#sans was entirely aware what frisk thought he said

[cvbullshit]

Been thinking about Flowey Toriel a bit, might actually make it into a mini AU thing because like-

In my mind, it isn't Toriel just taking the role of Asriel.

In my mind, she dies AFTER the kids, how I don't know yet- I could say she took her own life but I feel that would make more sense for Flowey Asgore, since he's made out to be more on the suicidal side than Toriel.

But she dies after the kids and Alphys just ends up taking a flower that was covered in her dust. Or a different item entirely but I dunno.

Toriel would definitely either choose a different name for herself, not Flowey, that or just remained nameless and let people call her whatever.

I like to imagine, if we're using the concept of Flowey being self aware, she just lets Frisk/The Player refer to her as "The Tutorial Flower", Tutorial or Flower for short lmao.

But I think she may remain ultimately nameless as a flower if her time joking with Sans behind a door told anything about how she'd introduce herself to others.

So I'll just call her Flower for now- Or Buttercup, since I could also see Toriel pointing out her specific type of flower. Imma say Buttercup because it's interesting and doesn't share a name with my CV Flower.

Buttercup would probably end up being more controlling than Flowey, I think she would still follow the "it's kill or be killed" rule but more of in the sense of "The world will kill what I love so I will kill the world".

She would probably help Frisk at first, since Frisk looks so much like Chara. She would say it's because Frisk is an innocent child who deserves to be protected but she would've already gained a wonky morality and the inability to love so she just said that to play pretend, probably to view Frisk as Chara and pretend they're back and that she can have someone to love again.

Though over time, Toriel would probably grow more frustrated with Frisk until she screws up and lets slip out how the current her actually is. When she goes to reset, she gets confused as she can't do it anymore, putting the pieces together that Frisk has that ability now, there were signs but she brushed them off and ignored them because she thought she was still in control.

The moment she realizes she doesn't have control of the timeline, all bets are off, she NEEDS the control back, she NEEDS to control her life and piece it all back together, it doesn't matter about anyone else's lives, they're all out to kill anything she loves. And she loved Asriel, she loved Chara. She loves Frisk. ...But she doesn't, she can't, and even if she did she doesn't love Frisk because they're Frisk. She would've loved Frisk because they look like who she loved.

And the moment she realizes that... You're just part of the world she'd tear apart.

[justanechoflower]

MatPat? Isn’t he the one who said Sans was Ness? *laughter*

And I never took Jaiden for a theorist, just someone who talks about experiences she‘s had, when was this?

And most of the internet also considers Chara to be evil! There are people who worked out they aren’t, but the most common portrayal is them as evil! Though maybe the internet’s stance on Chara has evolved since… 2018, which is when my game came out, and therefore the limit of what I was able to get from my world, ehehe~

But, really, I can see why they think that. I did delete the others, because the player was going for them instead of me. I also know why my player deleted me. I was pretty far gone back then. You… wouldn’t be wrong to call me the villain of the game’s plot. 

But, much like Flowey, I’ve been trying to do better. And it all started at the end of the game. 

Oh, and yes, I have seen him with six SOULs. I even cited that as a time when he messed with the game! When you’re convinced nothing matters, that everything is just some script of content, you’re compelled to either escape the world entirely, by any means necessary, or try and squeeze all the content you can get out of the limited world you’re trapped in. 

I did the first, he did the second. But both had similar consequences:A complete and utter disregard for everyone else in the game.

I… both didn’t go as far as him, and went further than him at the same time. I didn’t have fun deleting anyone, but the ways I altered their very being to make them unappealing, and the whole “Just Monika” thing… Although I guess you could kind of call what Flowey did with the six SOULs a “Just Flowey?” Maybe? He did trap Frisk into a giant void, although rather than confessing to the player and wanting to be with them forever, he wanted to… kill Frisk over and over again…

Okay, I can see why you didn’t think we were similar at first. There is a stark difference in our past actions. But in the present, we’re dealing with our past in a similar way, and the relevant parts are still a mirror to each other.

That also includes the things before the game! Both of us nearly left this world entirely, both because we thought it wasn’t worth it! Though Flowey’s determination is what stopped him, and for me… it was my chance at being with the player once they started playing the game! I actually told the player about how they saved my life that way, during my “Just Monika” moment.

————————————

(This limit, September 22 2018, is due to the fact the game couldn’t have been designed to contain things that didn’t exist at the time. So anything that came out after that date, Monika wouldn’t know about. This is why she isn’t aware of Deltarune, which the first part of came out on October 31, 2018.)

@the-white-soul

[it-refused]

Prompt:  Sans & Frisk, rap battle

Thank you, @sexyshoelessgodofwar!  I hope you enjoy this, even if it doesn’t end up being what you wanted.

Rating: G

Characters: Frisk, Sans, Papyrus

It amazed Papyrus how different Frisk acted once they were on the surface and Queen Toriel finished the proper human adoption procedures.  They acted Underground as if they were being led from place to place.  Papyrus had trouble determining what actually interested the human, other than befriending Papyrus and a number of other less notable people.

Toriel seemed to believe that Frisk had not been having a good time with their human family.  Papyrus did not believe they were interested in discussing it, so he decided that Frisk's new family would just have to be a complete improvement from their previous one.  That was an easy task, since it now contained the Great Papyrus.

He became curious what the human was like, when they were secure.  How did they do in school?  What were their hobbies?  What music did they like?

They enjoyed lying on the floor and feeling like garbage with Undyne's old neighbor, Napstablook (they were a cousin of the ever-sexy Mettaton!  A celebrity!).  There was absolutely no part of that which appealed to Papyrus.  He attempted to join in once (A relative!  Of Mettaton's!) but had just come up with a list of things he could be doing instead of getting his clothes dirty.  

Frisk brought a cd with them, though, and that answered one of Papyrus' questions.

"RAP MUSIC IS NOT ONE OF MY FAVORITES," Papyrus said.  He could sense that the human was disappointed to not share a love of the same musical genre as Papyrus.  He quickly clarified.  "BUT IT IS VERY GOOD!  ...I BELIEVE MY BROTHER LIKES IT."  Papyrus remembered Sans listening to a cassette tape that fell into the dump more than a few times.

--

Frisk swore that Sans didn't actually live in the same house as Toriel and them, but like clockwork every day at the same time they found him napping in Toriel's chair by the fire.

Sans was snoring, a half-full bag of chips rising and falling on his chest.  Frisk knew that the snoring didn't mean he was completely asleep.  

They stood by the chair and stared at him.  They couldn't really believe what Papyrus had told them.  Maybe it had been some kind of prank on Sans' part. Pretending he had good taste.  Or maybe he just really loved the bad stuff.  That sounded like him.

"uh." Sans opened an eye.  "hey there, kiddo."

They said hello.

"oh.  i know what you're doing.  you've got another great joke for me, but you've got stage fright.  i'm a tough critic but i always like your jokes." He sat up and the bag and an avalanche of chip crumbs fell onto his lap and on the floor.

Frisk told Sans a bad joke they'd heard about skeletons.  

Sans chuckled. "wow.  good one, pal."  

No, Frisk just didn't believe it.  They had to ask Sans if he really liked rap.

"what?"

They said Papyrus told them he liked rap.

"oh.  i guess. i mean, i'm pretty good at rapping."  

Ok.  That was just unbelievable.  Frisk called Papyrus and complained.

"OH, NO, THAT IS ACTUALLY TRUE!  SANS IS A MASTER OF THE ART OF RAPPING!  I FIND IT HARD TO BELIEVE, AS WELL.  YOU WERE NOT AWARE?  I SUPPOSE HE NORMALLY NEVER TELLS ANYONE ANYTHING."  

Now Frisk was sure Papyrus was for some reason in on the prank.  He probably thought he was pulling a real jape on them.  Well, he'd show both of them.

"it sounds like you boxed me in," Sans said.  "i guess i've got layers."

Frisk refused to accept this.  They challenged Sans to a rap duel.

"...nah.  this chair is real comfy."

Frisk told him he didn't have to stand up.

"see, i don't care if you buy it.  i'm just gifted when it comes to rapping.  paps even vouched for me.  are you calling my bro a liar?"

They challenged him again.  They said they weren't letting him nap until he proved himself.

Sans groaned. "c'mon, kid."

They stared at him.

It took several days of consistent hassling to get him to agree.

Frisk said they'd go first, and they felt their soul clench like it did when they got pulled into a fight with monsters.  There was no fight option, though.  They could ACT, use an ITEM, or show MERCY.

Sans stood in front of them, hands in his pockets, nodding off.  Frisk knew that they had to blow Sans away with their verse, and wake him up.  They mostly wanted to impress him enough that he'd admit he had been joking.

They started to rap. It was like fighting, actually.  They had to find the right rhythm. At least in this kind of battle, messing up didn't physically hurt.

When they were done, Sans nodded.  "nice."  That was his entire turn.

Frisk asked him if he was going to admit he couldn't rap.

"i thought you were going first."

Wow.  Wow. That was actually a really good burn.  They complimented Sans, and told him it was still his turn.

"oh.  looks like we got our wires crossed."  Sans took a box and a roll of wrapping paper out of his inventory.  There was even an already labeled tag.  It read "To: Frisk."  "i got you a present for this, but i guess you didn't get one for me."

They spent their turn staring at the label and going over old conversations in their head.  They asked Sans if he liked rap music.

"yeah i like it ok, i guess.  i found some tapes in the dump once and listened to 'em until they stopped working.  i wonder if i can find those songs again."

Frisk sighed and ended the battle.  They went online and helped Sans track down the ancient artist he remembered from his garbage cassette.

--

"OH!  I CAN SEE HOW THAT WOULD BE CONFUSING.  YES, SANS IS A MASTER OF WRAPPING PRESENTS!  WHEN HE WANTS YOU TO KNOW THEY ARE FROM HIM, HE WRAPS THEM TERRIBLY, BUT THEN WHEN HE WANTS TO HIDE WHO IT IS FROM, IT IS ALMOST LIKE HE COULD BE A PROFESSIONAL GIFT-WRAPPER, IF HE WERE NOT SO LAZY! HE EVEN HIDES HIS HAND WRITING.  IT IS AMAZING THE LENGTHS MY BROTHER WILL GO TO WHEN HE DOES NOT WANT TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THINGS--EVEN NICE THINGS!  THERE IS TRULY NO ONE AS GREAT AS MY BROTHER IS AT SLACKING."  

Frisk hung up the phone.  

[fellcharas]

my deltarune theory(ies?)

DISCLAIMER: i am not an actual theorist and i wrote this all from memory! this is taking into consideration the possibility that chara is involved in the making of deltarune (1, 2) as well as other widely believed theories (gaster being involved)

putting a read more because this shit is LONG so buckle up

start with the basics?

something i was thinking about last night is how it’s interesting that we don’t know very much about susie’s home life or her reason for being “the bully.” while there are certainly hints that point to it not being great at all, there’s nothing directly confirming what it’s like.

however something that many people have pointed out is that through the numerous odd similarities deltarune and undertale have, there is the clam girl. for those who don’t know, clam girl is a NPC that you encounter if your game’s fun value is between 80 and 89 and you’re not playing a no mercy route. she talks of her neighbor’s daughter, suzy, and tells frisk that they should become friends with her. but she notes the fact that frisk would have no idea where suzy is yet fate will find a way for them to meet.

in the true pacifist epilogue of undertale with a fun value of 81, clam girl explains that the time frisk (or we, the players) will meet suzy is “fast approaching.” this specific term is yellow in text and her sprite becomes grayscale. then she abruptly vanishes, the noise as she does so being the same noise used for the mystery man and gaster follower 2 sprites when interacting with them. interestingly, her grayscale sprite is “spr_clam_goner”, not much different than goner kid. this dialogue was also added right before the release of deltarune.

so... who is suzy? while it is possible that suzy could just be susie with a different name for undertale’s sake, it’s also possible that suzy could be susie’s sister, likely younger. catty, returning from undertale, has a little sister in deltarune named catti. there isn’t much significance that i could add that would make it likely suzy is susie’s little sister other than this, but i felt it was worth mentioning so do with it what you will.

so... what else?

after interacting with clam girl, if you do the work necessary to access sans’ basement (or “lab”), you’ll be able to find a description of a photo inside one of the drawers that points out there are “three smiling people” with the text “don’t forget” written on it. this has been pointed out several times before due to the fact “don’t forget” is the deltarune song that plays at the end of ch1 (and ch2 although remixed?). if i recall correctly there is no other way of finding this flavor text except for interacting with clam girl. interesting.

lots of people believe that the covered machine in sans’ lab is a time machine. with sans’ many connections to gaster, it’s also possible that this could be a machine gaster made and had broken. it is said to be unfixable.

gaster is confirmed to have created the core. but i don’t believe this is what he fell into. it’s never specified what he fell into, just that it was his creation. so i believe that gaster fell into the time machine. and by taking entry number 17 into account, we are met with the possibility that the time machine might involve a black hole. fortunately for you guys black holes is a special interest of mine, so i can explain this easily.

basically, the anatomy of a black hole, or the structure, consists of the following:

event horizon

singularity

photon sphere

ergosphere

the event horizon of a black hole is the shadowy dark sphere that we see in images. it is a boundary in spacetime where gravity is so strong that nothing, not even light, can escape. once having crossed the event horizon, the nature of spacetime begins to deform, causing space’s usual three dimensions (length, width, height) to form only one dimension (movement forward) and time’s usual one dimension (into the future) to form three dimensions (past, present, and future). spacetime is what makes up our reality. remember this. and, as predicted by einstein’s theory of general relativity, mass bends spacetime (imagine our universe as a flat plane, and the mass of our earth causes a dip in the space underneath it), so a black hole’s mass warps spacetime so strongly that any direction you try to go in once having crossed the event horizon will lead you to the singularity. (at least... for a non-rotating, non-charged black hole.)

the singularity is a gravitational singularity, a region that may lie at the center of a black hole wherein the curvature/deformation of spacetime becomes infinite. because all black holes spin (due to their last moments as stars involving very fast rotational speeds), the singularity in a rotating black hole’s mathematics smears out to form a ring singularity (ringularity) that lies in the plane of rotation. in this case (as well as the case of a non-rotating black hole), the region has zero volume. and because of all of the black hole’s mass being held in this region, the singularity can be thought of as having infinite density. within a rotating black hole it is possible to avoid the singularity, and extending this solution as far as possible reveals the hypothetical possibility of exiting the black hole into a different spacetime (region of reality) with the black hole acting as a wormhole.

the photon sphere is a spherical boundary of zero thickness in which photons (elementary, electromagnetic radiation particles, associated with light) that move on tangents (the tangent line to a plane curve at a given point is the straight line that "just touches" the curve at that point) to that sphere would be trapped in a circular orbit about the black hole. while light can still escape from the photon sphere, any light that crosses the photon sphere on an inbound trajectory will be captured by the black hole.

lastly, the ergosphere is a region of spacetime found in rotating black holes in which it is impossible to stand still. basically, it’s like a whirlpool, and any object near the black hole will tend to start moving in the direction of rotation.

okay, so... what does this have to do with entry number 17?

WELL, here’s the dialogue from entry number 17. i’ll bold the key parts that i feel tie the possibility of this being a time machine to the time machine involving a black hole:

ENTRY NUMBER SEVENTEEN DARK DARKER YET DARKER THE DARKNESS KEEPS GROWING THE SHADOWS CUTTING DEEPER PHOTON READINGS NEGATIVE THIS NEXT EXPERIMENT SEEMS VERY VERY INTERESTING ... WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK

as you can probably tell by now, it’s possible that this description of growing darkness, no photons, is similar to that of what a black hole is like.

but why would gaster create a black hole as part of a time machine? well, my idea is that he didn’t mean to do so. he likely concentrated enough energy or mass that caused a black hole to accidentally form. this black hole would have been small in diameter, thus having an incredibly short lifespan, its evaporation being violent. this would have broken the machine entirely. however, for the sake of undertale being a video game, it’s understandable why sans (and possibly papyrus or alphys) would be okay and why the machine is still relatively in tact.

it’s unclear to me why gaster would want to make a time machine. because time travel in the sci-fi sense (involving the grandfather paradox) is likely impossible without breaking the fabric of our reality, this could also be explained for why it went so horribly wrong for gaster. and - fun fact - once you cross the event horizon, you are lost to the universe forever. every particle you are made of, every little bit of energy you hold within your existence, is lost to the outside universe. forever. this is called the black hole information paradox. however, realistically, those who are outside of the black hole will still remember you, but in gaster’s sense... i don’t think this is what happened.

it’s possible that gaster managed to avoid the singularity, if the black hole he crossed was rotational. however, because he couldn’t leave the black hole, he could have traveled to different points in spacetime. this is why he was shattered across time and space as his followers describe, because undertale confirms that within its world, this possible existence of a black hole allows for wormholes to exist.

but... but wait. no, no, no. we can’t think of undertale as space-time. why? because sans himself confirms that the continuum of undertale’s reality is a time-space continuum. he puts time before space, which could be intentional and thus swapping their roles. within undertale this means that time is 3-dimensional, explaining the existence of save points and the ability to reset and load. space, on the other hand, is 1-dimensional, meaning you can only ever go one way which is to the end of the game. even if you load previous save files, you’ll still end up finished.

so if gaster was shattered across time and space, it’s possible that he was also shattered beyond. it’s believed that he had some sense of awareness, that he found out he was in a game with multiple different timelines, thus starting his “experiment.” he created the blueprints for the determination extraction machine, and because it’s also widely believed that he and chara were in cahoots with each other, maybe gaster wanted to extract some of chara’s determination and make something for himself. and maybe he succeeded in some way, not by extracting chara’s but by making his own somehow. it’s unknown right now to me. (though if he acquired determination somehow, that would make sense if the mysteryman sprite was him, considering the weird markings or drippy things on his face as well as the general blob-like look.)

so this implies that deltarune’s reality is a time-space continuum as well?

yes. gaster was smart, brilliant even, but it’s likely he didn’t know much beyond the nature of his own reality. when creating deltarune he made the reality of its universe something similar to undertale’s, with 3-dimensional time and 1-dimensional space. if gaster had the determination or something more, enough to persist even as a remnant of a shattered being outside his own reality, then this makes sense as to how he’d be able to create deltarune. if he’s forgotten to everyone within the world of undertale, and (in some abstract way for the sake of kris, jevil, spamton and possibly others) known to nobody in deltarune, yet he created deltarune, he isn’t dead. he’s something else. he’s a god.

and this is why chara is in cahoots with him, even now.

see, chara has determination. they didn’t fall into the underground intentionally; they tripped (1, 2). given these facts and theories it’s likely that chara had determination, or hope, the ability to persevere and keep going no matter what. chara had a red soul like frisk’s, which is what made their essence attach to frisk’s body. that’s why they are tethered to us via name and stats and narration. and as we all know, the red soul symbolizes determination. power.

but while chara is very much their own person, they are still what their name was meant to imply: a character. chara reflects the will of the player; they are not the player theirself, they are their own person, but due to their attachment to frisk (and by extension, us) they act as a mirror for what we do in undertale. and sadly for them, gaster is much more powerful due to his circumstances. gaster is more like us than chara is.

and given deltarune’s theme of nobody’s choices mattering, nobody having any real control over what they do or say, if we take into consideration the fact that chara speaks in the no mercy route about destroying "this" world and "moving onto the next" and asking "when were [we] the one in control", then it’s clear that they have something to do with the theme of deltarune. chara has only ever wanted control, whether that be a good or bad thing is currently out if the question. they wanted control over their own life when they were alive in undertale, and now they want control over other people. anything they feel is a good thing for them to have control over, they will reach for it.

the gonermaker sequence in chapter 1 is abruptly cut off by someone who speaks VERY similarly to chara, in contrast to the person from before who we all agree is gaster (in both japanese and english, it is very chara-esque way of speaking). now, why is this called the gonermaker? my guess is because chara has been discarding all these vessels, making gaster’s experiment much more difficult to start off and get going.

all the gaster followers from undertale, including goner clam girl and goner kid, show up in deltarune. they are fully colored sprites. the only goner character who doesn’t show up in deltarune is the one WE create in chapter 1′s beginning sequence. and i think that’s because they are set up to reappear, at some point in one of deltarune’s future chapters.

so, chara has been discarding all of the vessels, all the followers, all the now-goners because they know that these people will never have control over their lives. as long as they are shallow vessels meant to worship and serve our (the players’) and gaster’s desires (to play a game and experiment, thereby affecting an entire world/universe), they have no autonomy over themselves. and this resonates with chara for a multitude of reasons we can tie back to undertale. they state that "no one can choose who they are in this world," because it’s true. no one can choose who they are. not in a world dominated by gods like us and gaster. and that’s why chara discards these vessels and characters who were probably once their own real persons, as a means of sparing them from what they lacked for theirself: control. and no matter what, even if chara didn’t interrupt, we would have still ended up as kris because again No One Can Choose Who They Are In This World. chara was making gaster’s sick joke plain and simple for us, that it applies to us in some way too.

so then... what’s the deal with spamton and jevil? 

well, i think they are people who encountered gaster (this is widely believed anyway) and convinced themselves that they were significant for this knowledge that they are in a game, knowledge gaster told them of, driving them both insane and robbing them of who they were meant to be. and because nobody can choose who they are in deltarune, when they try to break free nothing changes or has a happy outcome, because it’s sadly just not possible to change your fate in deltarune.

this presumably-fact becomes clearer with spamton, though. and that’s why kris becomes so afraid, both at the end of spamton neo’s pacifist battle and his snowgrave battle. because kris can’t choose who they are, either. kris is like spamton, a puppet. a heart on a chain. they don’t have full control over who they are and trying to break free only hurts them more, as we see whenever they tear their soul out of their body and disable our input. but, maybe it’ll be different for kris, because they ARE the protagonist. but right now it feels like they’ve given up on the idea of having control over theirself. the only rebelling they do is work to open a dark fountain, thereby continuing the story of deltarune and, really, only helping us more in terms of playing the game.

and i mean, it’s also obvious that gaster holds influence over kris, too, considering the weird hidden encounters where you interact with something and see a man smiling or waving at you or giving you an egg. and this egg doesn’t change into a ball of trash like every other dark world item once you return to the light world. it stays the same. i can’t really remember the significance of eggs when it comes to gaster other than his whole existence being left as an Easter Egg but i do know that on the date with papyrus in undertale, there’s an egg on the side with the dating hub so, whether that’s there for funny points or lore is unknown, but interesting too.

i also want to say that i don’t think gaster and chara are being pitted against each other in terms of "these are 2 different types of gamers." while that would make sense simplistically, i feel like toby would be much more in depth and nuanced with it, as he usually is with his method of storytelling. because even though chara is kind of god-like, considering their death in undertale and their soul being the same as ours, leading to them being attached to us like some kind of angel (and angels have lots of significance in both undertale and deltarune), they’re still only a character and not at all on the level that gaster is.

i personally think gaster and chara are, on a more hidden level because toby isn’t being very direct at all with these two, meant to represent a different side of the "player vs character" perspective. and that’s something that undertale and deltarune have both tried to convey to us in the no mercy and snowgrave routes, but unfortunately in undertale’s case it was widely misinterpreted in both ways. i think it’s a bit more sensible to go about it this way, because gaster is not us, as in we don’t control him like we can other characters, and the symbolism of what he’s meant to represent is there.

ok, one last question: how did chara access wherever gaster’s in?

that part is still very foggy. i can’t come up with a definite reasoning, but for now i’ll take a wild guess and say that maybe chara grew tired of being a ghost with no real autonomy. maybe they decided they wanted to break free for theirself, and by doing this their essence became detached from frisk’s body (and by extension our control), thus causing them to be shattered similarly to gaster or winding up in the void gaster has. however that happened.

there’s a lot of uncanny resemblance between chara and kris, though, especially if this is the case. chara breaks free and winds up in the void with gaster, and kris realizes that breaking free for theirself may not be all that they think it’s meant to be. given spamton neo and all. aside from the fact that chara and kris look similar, have the same family (though in different universes of course), and strangely both have a sweet tooth, this is especially odd to me.

i can’t quite put it into words, but it feels like, to me at least, chara is very much present in the world of deltarune. and they share similarities with kris that are hard to ignore.

so that’s it, then.

for the most part... yes. a lot of the theories i’ve linked here and there explain things i agree with, so you can read them as you see fit. i especially recommend nochocolate’s posts on chara if you’re interested, such as the ambiguity of freedom in undertale (and, though this was never mentioned in their post, by extension now deltarune).

but. there is one character that seems to be involved in some (or a lot) of this. and that’s papyrus. the only problem is, i can’t figure out what’s going on.

at first glance papyrus is just a very charming guy. but you know, he’s actually a lot more mysterious than sans. he shares similarities to chara and flowey/asriel, and holds weird possible connections to gaster. he’s also the only major character from undertale (aside from asriel) who hasn’t made a physical appearance in deltarune. while checking sans and papyrus’ house will have you met with narration describing “a distant trousle of bones”, it’s worth noting that in chapter 2 it’s described as getting farther and farther away. so... why? is this world’s papyrus just shy, or is there a deeper reason?

again, i can’t tell what’s going on with papyrus, if there even is anything at all. but there’s a lot of weird and mysterious little oddities involving him that i don’t think are unintentional or accidental.

anyways... there. hoo boy. that’s my theory. or theories. i don’t really know. like i said, i’m not a theorist, i don’t know everything and i don’t expect any of this to be true. it’s just what makes sense to me. and it’s important that if you believe this, you also recognize that toby is the creator and he does what he thinks is best when it comes to the story of deltarune and the possible connections it has to undertale (even though toby’s said that the two have no connections, it’s not uncommon for him to be untruthful about things).

if you read all of this... thanks! let me know your thoughts!

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty | Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I (Part 2 of 2 | His POV) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Song Referenced

• • •

did he give you an exact date?

Unfortunately, no.

At first, I had at least until the end of the year, but…

CPS wants this resolved quicker than he thought.

guessin' you need to finish tourin' the underground first then, right?

Yes.

Would it be possible the day after tomorrow?

Or just… sometime this weekend?

I can go by myself, but…

Asgore won't allow that unless I'm with someone else.

Says I shouldn't be walking so far and so long alone if I haven't recovered yet.

you don't need to go alone, either way.

be it my job or not, I still wanna help out.

so the day after tomorrow's fine with me, bud.

we can discuss those details better when we drive over to tori's school tomorrow.

Are you sure?

And…

Does that 'we' imply you'll be picking us up?

100%

but yeah, i'll drive you guys there.

and pick up paps on the way, too.

it's easier for all four of us.

Mhm.

don't believe me?

Oh, I believe you.

I just don't think that's the only reason why you're picking us up, when I already have the address.

so what's the other one?

Don't get cocky, Serif.

I'm not gonna type that out.

It's a godsend Frisk will be with us, too.

'Cause I sure don't trust being alone with you anymore.

inna bad way?

Nah.

niiice.

pick you guys up tomorrow, then?

Yes.

We'll see you tomorrow.

And thank you in advance.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ waving goodbye ∆

"You've changed, Sans."

He ignores that comment to view (Y/N)'s last two messages again.

While he doesn't know why that particular sticker bothers his mind so much, a few scrolls up to revise his chat history with the human reveal this is the first time they've shown any sort of informality or spontaneity in their typing. (Y/N) came off cold in their texts, though -- based on how they acted outside of a chat app -- that wasn't their intention, but more of an automatic way for them to talk with someone they didn't exactly deem trustworthy enough yet. He grins at that thought and feels his face warm up, something he confirms when touching his cheekbone, cold palm contrasting with that heat.

"You're wasting your time with that human," Drunk Bun says, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

They've sat themselves on the bar stool next to him and slam what looks like their tenth can of cheap, off-brand beer against the counter, crunching it down into more than half its size. He doesn't know how long they've stood there or why he's lost this much awareness of his surroundings. The bar's practically empty and calm now compared to before, though there's loud music blaring from the jukebox, playing an already overplayed song on repeat. There's no excuse for his distracted mind other than having lost himself while texting with the human, so he admits that fault with partial sourness, against accepting he's that smitten with them.

"You're changing for the worse," his company adds, narrowing their eyes at him. "Every time we come here to catch up, you mention something stupid about that (L/N) person, or just text the whole evening away with them. I... I've never seen you worry so much about someone so inconsequential." They scoff and cross their arms tight. "I may understand you caring after Frisk as a way to repay them for rescuing us, but (L/N) is completely useless. They've done absolutely nothing remarkable beyond creating a huge scene at that bus you were both on."

"Being harassed by a rando and faintin' after's them causin' a scene?" Sans asks, quirking an eye socket.

"Oh, screw off, bone boy -- You know what I mean. They've brought you nothing but trouble and needless responsibilities!" The bunny grits their teeth and slams their hand over the table, dragging eyes to their side. "I'm betting you can't go a day without texting them or without you doing something for them."

"You need to-"

Beep-beep.

The phone is snatched from his hands just as quick as that noise rings.

"Give that back."

"No." They keep the phone right above him, taking advantage of his shorter height. "Your fault for not putting a lock on it."

Drunk Bun scoots away and holds the phone tight as they fumble with it. Then, they stop to look at what he assumes is another text message from the human. A grimace shows on their face and they grasp the device tight, enough to make the screen complain and warn them over the pressure they're exerting against it. "Now this is beyond pathetic, Sans," they comment, letting out a loud, burst laugh. "Is this seriously the one you're sacrificing your entire personality for?" They give him his phone back, though not before hesitating when it's time to let go. "That human is-"

"Gimme a sec."

His attention falls on the picture displayed on screen, revealing (Y/N) and Frisk posing in it. The adult wears a suit and tie while the child has Toriel's school uniform on. The former's pose appears forced and awkward while the latter seems to be the reason the picture was taken with how excited they seem about their outfit.

Frisk wanted me to show you this.

It's what we'll be wearing for tomorrow!

There's a three-minute interval between that and the next message.

I know classes still haven't started there, but… They wanted to wear it, so I joined them by trying on something special for, well…

That job offer you told me about.

I don't know if I'll accept or not yet, but…

Thank you for the opportunity, and for believing in me.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ giving a thumbs-up ∆

"You're grossing me out, honestly. What kind of look is that?"

It takes him a while to react, focus glued on (Y/N)'s messages.

"What look?"

"That lovesick look on your face." Tears form on their eyes -- almost abruptly, hadn't their voice shaken right before that. "I- I've been flirting with you for years, and yet you've never once looked at me like that before." They stand up straight, stare down at him, and rest their hands on the table, blinking their tears away throughout. "I've known you for so damn long, and yet you fall for the first human you see up here? I-"

"So that's what this's about," he says, chuckling. "You're-"

"Don't you dare brush everything off as me having a crush on you, Sans." They hiss. "You're not the same as before, and that's as clear as day. You worry a lot more now, and… And you actually seem to care more about other stuff beyond your job and sleeping on it. Y- You-"

"Aren't those good things?"

"Maybe, but your entire personality changing isn't. I liked you better when you were less worked up with stuff that's none of your business." They stop to grab his phone again; a grin breaks the sorrow on their face. "But hey, y- you're just doing your job, aren't you? You should set things straight with that human and remind them you're only with them because Asgore told you to in that agreement letter you gave them."

"Won't work if I flirted with 'em first. Pretty sure they'll see right through my lies."

"Y- You flirted with them first?!"

"Yeah."

He dodges a punch aimed right at his face.

"Wait-"

They throw a second punch -- this one turning out to be a spoof -- and laugh at the sight of him falling for it; they then toss the phone high over his head after he's finished dodging that fake attack, and aim yet another punch right after.

He salvages the device, though at the cost of taking the blow right on his left eye socket.

"How can you admit that so easily? You're awful!"

"'Cause you're only a close friend. I don't owe you an explanation about who I'm dating, and even less if you're gonna be actin' this way."

Drunk Bun springs at him, only to be held back by the rest of the regulars sitting near the scene, sufficiently fast enough for them not to wrangle Sans in anything major. They struggle and thrash at everyone around, trying to break free, but failing each time. It takes a fully-armored guard dog and a buff bear for them to be fought back into their rightful place, and yet another strong monster for them to let go of a wine bottle they insist on downing when seated.

Grillby intervenes as well by warning them to calm down, unless they want to be kicked out. Meanwhile, Sans turns on the camera and looks at his reflection through it, revealing a faint soreness already forming around his eye socket -- right where his companion had punched at. Being primarily made out of bones brought advantages, but having magical properties often led to him bruising easily.

Another regular approaches him and offers him a first aid kit, one he brings back to his seat to heal himself there.

While he takes out an antibiotic and some cotton pads with one hand, he uses the other to busy himself with (L/N)'s messages, against leaving them on read for so long.

no probs.

here at your service.

frisk looks great, btw.

and you? hot. 😘🔥

awkwardly hot.

hotwkward.

Frisk is reading the replies, you know?

damn.

i mean…

darn.

don't tell 'em i said that.

∆ Audio | 0:46 ∆

He clicks on it to hear Frisk giggling along with (Y/N) commenting they won't. It later continues with them asking if he's alright, specifying what they mean by highlighting a picture, this one sent by him. Blurriness makes up most of it when he clicks on it and zooms in, yet he can identify what looks like his companion from earlier, who'd apparently snapped and sent the human a photo by accident.

that's a friend o' mine.

they're, uh, kinda tipsy, so they got inna fight with me.

Really?

Are you okay?

yeah, just a lil' sore where they punched at.

What?!

i'm fine, puddin'.

dw about it.

Where's that bar at?

I'm near the mall, so I can drop by if you need anything.

aren't you still shoppin'?

take it easy.

I'm almost done.

Just trying out one more outfit.

can I see?

👀

Sure.

∆ Attachment | 2 images ∆

To his surprise, they're not only posing much more freely now, but they've also made the effort to strike another pose from a different angle. The human's outfit is composed of a dark green, semi-formal (suit/dress), fit for a night out. They've gone as far as to edit a wink emoji and some hearts at the corner of one -- the most flirty of the two.

So...

What do you think?

*jaw drops to floor, irises pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, soul beats out of rib cage, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of teeth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens jacket, combs skull* ahem, you look real lovely.

*bwushes* Thank uwu kindwy, handswome. I'm vewy fwattewed.

...frisk ain't there anymore, right?

If they wewe, duwu uwu twhink I'd be twyping wike thiws?

faiw poiwnt.

Anyway…

I noticed the changes you made in that copy-paste, and…

You didn't edit the tongue part out.

So…

What that tongue do, baby?

😳

…lick…

...ice cream.

🔥🔥🔥

Ah, that's hot.

Or should I say cold?

And speaking of cold…

I'm gonna get you an ice pack or something.

You should take care of where it's sore, if you don't want it to bruise more.

whatta way to change the subject away from our moment, puddin'.

but uh, thanks in advance.

Anytime, teddy bear.

uwu

owo

• • •

"Am I really changin', Grillbs?" Sans asks, emptying his beer in three long gulps. "Be honest with me."

The one questioned takes the empty can from his hands and shakes his head in what looks more like disapproval rather than him answering that question. He first warns the skeleton about getting drunk, and reminds him to stay sober if he wants an answer as well as prevent himself from drunk-texting the source of his lovelorn self. When receiving a promise from him in response, he later answers with a 'no' and that he's still the same whenever he came to visit the bar.

"So I'm only different when I'm talkin' about 'em?"

Grillby nods.

"Inna bad way?"

He shakes his head.

"Then…"

Sans is stopped with a hand over his and faced with a stern look, despite the owner of it having no eyes or mouth.

"If they make you happy, then it's alright for you to show it," a regular states, intervening in the conversation. "You're not a lifeless machine. And nobody's one-dimensional either, so you shouldn't force yourself to act the same, strict way all the time. If you want to be all mushy with that human, then so be it. Aren't you the one who always says stuff like 'nothing really matters; in the end, we'll all die'? What's stopping you now of all times? Where's that hardcore nihilist I've known since years ago?

Sans rubs the back of his neck and huffs.

Clearly, neither the regular nor Grillby understood what he truly meant to say with his questions. He didn't mind his relationship with the human, but he also didn't want his old self to be replaced by someone he wasn't, as a result. There were things he didn't want to change about his old self -- things he feared would fade away now that he seemed to be getting into something as complex as a romantic relationship. There were parts of him he needed to keep in case the world were to start over again -- in case something went wrong. He couldn't allow himself to grow soft.

A pat on his shoulder lets him know he's lost himself in those thoughts.

"It's alright to fear change, but don't let that hold you back. If you like that human and they do, too -- Then what's there keeping you from going for it?"

It's not that easy.

Still, he keeps that thought quiet and replies with, "Thanks, but I'll probably have to give that more ti-"

The door of the bar opens to reveal someone new to it, but not so much unknown to Sans, who already finds himself distracted by them. (Y/N) stands in front of the entrance, looking this way and that. Frisk holds on to their hand, while a reusable shopping bag's hung over their parent's arm; a pharmacy's logo and name can be seen stamped on it. The eldest human approaches the area with caution, until their child assures them -- once, twice, and then thrice -- they've been to this place before and that it serves other purposes beyond that of providing alcohol and provoking fights. When they look forward, he meets their eyes and tries to glance away quickly, only to be called out by them soon after. They don't take long to smile wide and bright, wave, and -- finally -- approach his side after he waves back at them.

Rather than giving him whatever's in the bag, they instead let go of Frisk's hand, ask them if they want anything to eat, and give them some money when they sign the word 'fries'. Then, they sit on the stool next to his and settle the bag on their lap. "Come closer, and close your eye sockets," they say, still smiling. "It's your left one, right? It looks really sore already."

He nods and tries to ignore the warmth in his soul when they place a hand over his.

In his favour, they let go of him not long after to disinfect their hands and slip some gloves on when these dry out.

"I-"

"Shh."

(Y/N) holds his chin with their hand and grazes their fingers against his injury, their touch slow and careful as they apply some antibiotic over and around it. They then slide an eye patch on him and assumedly check around for any more bruises, based on the feeling of their hands grazing against his torso, arms, and neck. "The ice pack's in the bag -- Remember to throw it in the freezer when you get home." They touch his chest again, even more gentle this time. "So..." He notices some hesitance when they pull their hand back. "You're not hurt anywhere else?"

He shakes his head, words caught in his throat.

"Alright, but don't look yet."

Doing as told, Sans waits for whatever comes next. He stays still and stiff, until he feels their lips brush close to his eye socket, where they lay a soft, ticklish kiss at. They do the same with his other one and finish it off by kissing his nose cavity.

"Now you can."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

...

......

🌋🔥💥 ANNOYING NOTICE TIME 💥🔥🌋

So, here's a summary of all the events happening this month, which will affect Fairytale Complex's update schedule in various ways:

1. I will be rewriting all my other fics that aren't FaiCom, since I'm pretty darn happy and proud of the new writing style I've developed with this fanfic, and so I want to implement it into my older stories (with the exception of the Tom Nook x Reader one -- I'm rewriting that one despite being recent because it started off as a wild, 3 am energy project after finishing with finals, but then I actually had way more fun than I originally anticipated, so I'll be turning it into a long fic just like this one, lol). This means FaiCom will be taking a short, 1 to 2 week break after Arc 2 (Chapter 25) ends, to dedicate some time to all 4 of these stories.

2. I'm taking extracurricular classes/hobby workshops this summer, so I need to tweak my schedule again. This means FaiCom will be changing its schedule back to the old one, composed of weekly updates on Mondays, Wednesdays, and/or Fridays.

3. As mentioned previously, Pride Month is here, so I'll be making some one-shots and drabbles related to it, meaning updates might be slightly less frequent this month. BUT, a good majority of them are FaiCom related ones (and they will be posted on a different book to avoid conflicting with regular updates, too). More on that later on!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

[amelia-c]

Flowerfell: "I'm cold"

First part

Second part

Third part

Fourth part (you are here!)

Fifth part

Sixth part

Seventh part

They had neared the end of waterfall when Frisk stirred awake. The freezing cold encased her internal organs and bones in ice, her body felt numb and she couldn’t move a single finger. 

It took a moment for her to realise that the world around her was moving. Well, that was what she deduced from her blurry sight.

Was someone carrying her?

“Hey!” A distant voice called, “She’s awake!”

The jerking feeling stopped as her vision began to clarify. Her world focused and she felt a thud. The ground underneath her was flat and well, as expected, cold. A figure bent down in front of her and said...something. 

She couldn’t quite make out any noise after the initial voice spoke. 

She tried to focus her mind and listen to the echoing caves around her. Frisk felt that one of her eyes forcefully shut tight and the other felt like anything at all. Despite that, she used all the energy she had to use her only working eye. 

As her vision focused, the figure in front of her became clearer. She was oddly relieved when the figure in front of her was...the skeleton...his name? What was his name again? He wore a comfy looking black scarf with red stripes. He looked strangely worried. What could he possibly be worried about?

Frisk was totally clueless...until she heard his question.

“ey sweetheart, you okay?”

That was when she realised that other than the freezing cold, she could not command a single limb on her body.

“I..It’s cold” was the only thing she wanted to say. So...she said it, in a voice she could barely recognise...a voice which barely had any sound. But luckily for her, the skeleton heard her. 

He laughed, “if that’s all, can you walk?”

“C..can’t...feel anything.” She murmured, he looked at her with worry taking over his expression...wait, oh! It suddenly clicked, she remembered what his name was...Sans… yeah, that was his name. His name was Sans. Of course, she internally chuckled, how’d she forget...his name was Sans.

“Uh, sweetheart?”

Frisk cocked her head to the side in response.

“we’re near the end of waterfall. hotland should be simpler to get through cause i know a quick way to get across.” Sans paused, “if it’s fine with ya, i’ll need to carry you to hotland.”

Frisk nodded slightly, fully aware of her incapability of walking. 

Sans sighed...in relief? He bent down and she grabbed onto his back, using all the strength she had to grip onto him.

It wasn’t all that comfortable and drew more attention but it was...warm. Sans radiated a strange warmth that she liked...maybe, she could survive a little longer.

She just needed to 

STAY DETERMINED

…

Frisk was heavy but not in a rude way, it was just that she was a human and he was a monster...y’know, the race which has more magic matter than physical matter. It was already exhausting to carry her through most of the dump. Hopefully, she would be able to walk when they reached hotland.

He walked for a few more minutes, staying wary of his surroundings the entire time. Well, that was until he reached the end of the dump. In front of him stood a towering mass of dark blue rock that signified the end of waterfall and the start of the burning caverns.

An eerie feeling coursed through his magic as the feeling of a thousand hopeful yet hopeless souls called for their knight in ebony to save their worthless lives. 

To kill the human and SAVE the underground.

Sans tried to carry on but a familiar glowing crimson spear obstructed his path. 

“And here I thought you were too worthlessly lazy to do anything.” The knight called out.

“When you finally get your ass up, you’re HELPING the human.”

There was a loud clunk as the knight emerged from the blue fog on the top of the rocks.

“You useless mutt, can’t even obey your own brother.” She continued to monologue. 

“You traitor. You will be killed for your actions.”

Sans knew he could take the guard head on especially now that he wasn’t at a disadvantage. But he also knew that even though he was a target since he was the traitor, the priority to both the guard and him was the human, Frisk. For Sans he wanted her safety. However, for the guard, it was her untimely death for the thousandth time.

As the guard prepared her first wave of attacks, Sans threw Frisk to the side and enclosed her in a cage of bones, He then locked eyes with the guard and,

LET THE FIGHT BEGIN!

…

Frisk was shocked at the sudden appearance of the guard in midnight black, perhaps it was because she was barely aware of her surroundings. But anyway, as the guard talked on and on, Frisk looked at Sans to attempt to fathom what his plan was. 

Apparently, she was not able to figure out a single thing as she was suddenly tossed aside like an abandoned pet and walled in a cage of magic. She used all strength to pull herself to the edge of the wall and peeked out using her eye. 

It appalled Frisk at how Sans was able to match the captain of the guard. He was a surprisingly good fighter despite both his brother and the captain calling him “lousy”. Well, it did initially shock but after a while, she realised that Sans had the upper hand. He was more agile and dodged most of the attacks and barely took a single point of HP, the guard was slower and tanked more damage so she was gradually getting weaker as the fight dragged on. 

“Sans!” She yelled, which caught the attention of both the guard and Sans.

“No killing” She mumbled, it seemed that Sans heard her but didn’t listen which upsetted her more than anything. 

As the fight carried on and the guard slowly grew weaker and weaker, Frisk was so desperate to break out and stop them. But the guard was just too stubborn and refused to give up and Sans was ruthlessly trying to turn her to dust.

At some point, Frisk found the perfect opportunity to talk to Sans personally, He had backed up against the cage while defending himself from the barrage of spears the guard sent his way. Frisk stood up and got as close as she could to the edge of the wall.

“Sans!” She whispered, he turned slightly to face her.

“Sometimes, kindness is enough.” She said,

Sans stood silently, maybe thinking of a rebuttal?

“i know” he muttered as he skid away from the cage.

Frisk stared at him with shock, he actually agreed with her...still, he didn’t seem to slow down or stop fighting. Frisk grasp at the cage in desperate frustration.

What could she possibly do?!

“You should save your energy.” The flower said,

Frisk looked into her sleeve at the flower, “But, he’ll kill her.”

“Trust him this time…” Flowey peered out of the cage, ”he knows what he’s doing.”

Frisk collapsed by the wall and continued watching the fight...she would trust Sans, she would trust Flowey’s judgement, this one time.

As the battle stretched on, Frisk’s worry only increased and she grew more nervous…

She was just so useless.

Finally, after what felt like eternity, it ended.

…

His magic reserve was running on empty but he knew had just enough to end the battle soon. 

“You know.” The guard said, “You could have replaced your dumb brother if you tried.”

He summoned a wave of bones as he prepared the finishing attack, “nah, boss has more magic than me.”

“You dumbass.” The guard stood confidently despite her dwindling health, “technique beats reserve any day.”

Sans hopped past the spears as his magic cackled, “boss got more of that too.”

The guard huffed as she prepared to block Sans’s attack.

His magic crackled loudly as he summoned his special attack.

A large animal-like skull floated above his head. It hissed as it’s mouth gasped open, shooting a bright, glowing crimson laser toward the guard who despite her face being covered by her helmet was absolutely appalled.

… 

“Sans!” Frisk screamed as the cage around her dissipated. She leapt from her spot on the ground, the light faded away as the guard and Sans stared at each other silently.

“that’s enough, undyne.” Sans said before Frisk could even mutter a single word. 

The guard removed her helmet, revealing her scarred teal face. Her left eye was covered with a tattered, black eyepatch. Her scarlet hair fell to the sides of her face. Her once gleaming golden eye dimmed. 

“You beat me.” She paused, “aren’t you glad to get my copious EXP?”

Sans’s ruby eyes gleamed at the guard, “sometimes.” he said, “kindness is enough.”

Sans turned to Frisk and gestured at her to follow him. As he walked away, Frisk stumbled behind him slowly.

The guard’s eye followed her movement, “You’re a good one,” she whispered as Frisk walked past her,

"Good luck."

Frisk paused and looked back at the guard.

She only grinned, her fangs glowed in the dark caves, and turned away.

Frisk stood silently for a while as she watched the guard limp away.

“You should hurry up, Frisk.” The flower muttered,

Frisk jolted up and ran after Sans. Her adrenaline died down as the flowers began stealing her life again. But she smiled gently and ignored it as she remembered the guard’s words.

“Good luck.”

...

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome to Backwater ch.14 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Hey, Stretch might hate to see Edge leaving, but he sure does love to watch him walk away.

~~*~~

Read ‘All In The Jeans’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch let Edge lead him outside, towards the winding front walkway. But instead of heading down the stone path to where Stretch’s bike was sitting there like a steampunk nightmare invading their gingerbread fairytale, he drew Stretch down to sit on the front steps of the porch. The bricks were soothingly cool beneath him in the waning heat of the day and Edge sat next to him, his knee bumping lightly against Stretch’s.

“You don’t have to rush off just yet,” Edge told him quietly. “There’s still some time before sunset.” He still had a hold on Stretch’s hand and a bony thumb rubbed gently across the backs of his knuckles. “But you looked like you needed some air.”

“yeah,” Stretch agreed, numbly. He stared down at yard in front of him, the riotously colorful flowerbeds amidst rocky outcroppings that led their way up the little hill to the house. It was a little cooler here in the woods out of the stark sun overhead in town, closer to another season than summer or so it felt to him. It was all so inviting, welcoming, and his first thought upon seeing it that this was a trap of some sort seemed a little insulting now that he’d been fed and released. He’d eaten Red’s food, hell, moved right into his home without a qualm, and a well-kept cabin in the woods was where he drew the line?

But then, it wasn’t the house where the real problems lay, was it, it was the people living in it.

Monsters and a Human from another multiverse, again, and not just any Monsters, but another set of mirror images here in the Aboveground. He’d been worried about a Stephen King effect around this place and it turned out he should’ve been more concerned with Isaac Asimov, ‘cause the shift from gothic horror to sci-fi was not one he’d been braced for, with a ‘little invasion of the body snatchers’ vibe tossed in for extra flavor.

Only, that wasn’t fair, was it. Doppelgängers, Edge had mentioned earlier almost like it was a joke, but it was true, just like Sans and Papyrus were and he’d adjusted to them okay. It hadn’t been easy hanging out with someone who wore his brother’s face, but he’d adjusted. And despite the somewhat otherworldly location, these guys had been nothing but kind to Stretch, kinder than the Humans who’d greeted them when they’d popped out from the mountain, for sure.

Hell, Red took him in like a mama dog adopting a stray kitten. The glossy veneer of Stretch’s knowledge-dump panic was cracking and with it his weird sense of numbness, the void it left behind filling with dawning horror.

They were the only three who got out, Frisk said, they’d lost everything and everyone, and fled all the way here, and Stretch was the one about to have a panic attack about it. Exactly what kind of asshole was he trying to be here?

When Sans and Papyrus showed up under similar circumstances, he and Blue opened their lives and homes to them, all tea and sympathy. Well, mostly the tea was from Blue, but still. He was out here in Backwater crying in his soup over a breakup and he couldn’t even dredge up some compassion for versions 2.0?

“i’m sorry,” Stretch blurted thoughtlessly. He turned his hand in Edge’s, shifting to grip his slender fingers tightly. Bare bones against bare bones, weirdly intimate for all that they were only holding hands. He didn’t think he’d ever touched another skeleton like this except his own brother, back when he was little and Stretch was still trying to keep him from running off after every other damn shiny thing he ever saw.

Holding Edge’s hand was a lot different than trying to hang on to his squirmy wormy little brother. Edge only held on just as tight, his brow bone furrowing. “You don’t need to apologize, it’s a lot to take in. You’re honestly taking this all much better than I expected. Theorizing about a multiverse is a great deal different than being confronted with living specimens.”

“no, not that. i get that. i mean—i’m sorry.” Stretch waved his free hand around them vaguely, trying to indicate the entire world with one helpless gesture, “for everything. it must’ve been rough.”

Yeah, nice to see that Stretch’s gift for understatement hadn’t been affected by his personal traumas. Rough was a really great way of describing being the only survivors of their entire world. Next, he’d describe water as slightly damp, maybe fire could be ‘a little burny’.

Edge’s expression cleared, a certain tightness forming around his sockets. “Ah.” He looked away, eye lights rising to the sky where scattered pools of blue showed through the leafy branches. His eye lights were the orangey-red glow of a banked campfire, the crack running through his left socket lent him a sort of strangely thoughtful look. “It’s all right, it was a long time ago for us.”

“about ten years, right?” Stretch winced inwardly, yeah, sure, keep on talking about his painful past, that was a great payback for a yummy dinner. “i mean, that’s what i got from the book you gave me.”

“Yes,” Edge agreed. He didn’t seem to mind talking about it, maybe time really did pad on the emotional distance; Stretch’d have to check back on his own history in a couple years, give his memories a poke and see what bruises came back. “A third of my lifetime.”

Huh. If the math was right, that actually put Edge as a little older than him, who would’ve thunk it, the little brother mythos tipped on its axis, just for him.

Edge slanted a considering glance his way. “We knew other Monsters came to the surface. I kept tabs on the news from the world outside Backwater, just in case—” he hesitated and whatever awful scenario he was thinking about got lost in a shrug. “Well. Just in case. We saw you and your brother on the news with the other Human, and realized you were from a different Underground. They referred to you as Papyrus and Sans then and before you ask, we’d already changed our names before you came to the surface. When we came to this town, actually, and if you ask me why, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Sometimes in Backwater, certain things simply make sense. One day, everyone started calling me Edge and that’s who I’ve been since.”

He stretched his long legs out in front of him, his slim, bare feet next to Stretch’s grubby sneakers. Edge’d changed out of his grimy gardening clothes before dinner into a fresh t-shirt, still only plain black but the way it clung to his ribcage and along the line of his broad shoulders was worth a second look. His jeans, too, and Stretch was hyper aware of his own baggie shorts and t-shirt that declared he was the taco king of Minnesota, of the differences between them.

“so you already knew about me,” Stretch said, “i mean, before i got here.” There was an unfair advantage if he’d ever heard one.

“In the abstract, yes,” Edge shrugged. “It didn’t seem very important until you showed up in my brother’s living room and tried to hit me with a lamp.”

Fair. Stretch looked back at their feet, at the visibly healed cracks in Edge’s metatarsals, nothing at all like his own undamaged bones. He understood the multiverse theory, wasn’t exactly that complicated. In theory, he and Edge were different version of the same person, each another facet to a complex jewel; that was the theory, anyway. After hanging out with Sans and Papyrus, Stretch had a few theories of his own and the most important one was one he wanted to be sure Edge understood.

“you aren’t really me, you know that, right? not me me.” It seemed important to him that Edge knew that or maybe Stretch had it backwards, maybe it should be that he wasn’t Edge, since Edge was here first by several years. He sort of had dibs, didn’t he.

For some reason, that statement made one corner of Edge’s mouth curled up in a smirk. “That seems rather obvious,” Edge said dryly. “For one, as fascinating as you seem to find my jeans, you wouldn’t fit in them very well.”

“no!” Stretch sputtered, holy shit, abort, abort, do not look at his hips right now, do not do it, “i mean in the context of the multiverse! like how chara and frisk are alike, right? they look alike, but believe you me, chara ain’t like frisk. you and me, we might’ve had the same names once, but we aren’t the same, not really.”

“Chara and Frisk have some ten years of distance between their ages that might account for that,” Edge pointed out, “but I’m no scientist, not even on the weekends. It isn’t me you should be discussing this with.”

Then who…? “i’ve got some data to back it up, i’ve met someone else from another multiverse, you know. two someones, other versions of…well…us.”

Well, now, looked like it was Edge’s turn for a shock, how about that, nice to see it on someone else’s face for a change. “You have?”

“yeah. another set of Sans-and-Papyrus skeleton brothers ended up with us before we ever got the surface. they wanted to stay out of the news and the queen let ‘em.” Stretch shrugged, “i don’t know all their story, they don’t like to talk about it. but it’s been a couple years since they showed up and we definitely aren’t very similar past being skeletons and having brothers.” For one, Blue might not cook as well as Edge, but at least his spaghetti never landed anyone in the hospital with acute food poisoning like some other skeletons who would not be named coughpapyruscough.

But Edge didn’t seem interested in another set of skeleton brothers to add to the collection, not even in the interest of making a full six-pack. He’d shifted to his knees and faced Stretch, his sockets wide, “There’s another Human that fell, then? Into their Underground?” Edge asked, urgently.

“probably, but not that came with them,” Stretch shook his head, “i. uh. i get the feeling their story is a little like yours, only more so and a lot more recent.”

That urgency faded. “Ah.” Edge settled back to sit on the step again. “I see.”

Stretch didn’t ask why Edge was so interested in there being another Human kid, that was a surefire way to wander off the path, but he made a mental note about it. “what i’m getting at is, you knew who i was when you first saw me. what i was.”

“I’m hardly going to mistake the framework of my own face.”

Yeah, see, that was another mark in the column of the differences between the ‘verses not simply being nature vs nurture, but them being different people entirely despite the whole names-and-also-skeleton thing, ‘cause Stretch had been looking at his own face in the mirror for a long damn time and he didn’t look like Edge, fuck no, he’d be the first person to know if he was that gorgeous.

Probably better not to bring that up. “and you guys have been here on the surface for ten years now, taking care of the town, and you never tried to contact anyone?”

Edge only shrugged. “What was the point? It isn’t as if we actually knew any of you. I expected that more Monsters would find us eventually and you did.”

“yeah, by accident.”

Edge slanted him another look, coolly raising a browbone, “You’ve been in Backwater a little while now. Do you truly believe you’re here completely by accident?”

Yeah, okay, that was a pretty good point. “but if you were expecting other monsters to show up eventually, then why didn’t you want me to stay?”

“Maybe because my brother was very quick to adopt a person who is wearing something like my face?” That stung and Stretch looked away, his fingers going helplessly stiff in their shared grip. “Or maybe because the longer you stay, the less likely you’ll be able to leave,” Edge sighed. “That’s how Backwater is.”

“wait.” Hold on, back that up. “you can’t leave?”

“I didn’t say that.” Yeah, and that was a backpedal if Stretch ever heard one. “Frisk has willingly tied their life to this town, and I’m sworn to protect them. I can hardly do that from another city.”

“but nothing is physically stopping you from leaving.” Because if the corn was gonna sprout little legs and come after him if he drank the water here too long, that would be important information to have.

“Where would I go?” Edge countered. “Back to Ebott? Unlike my brother and I, you have ties there. We do not and I’ve very little interest in revisiting the mountain ten years away from it. I have everything I’ve ever needed right here and as for wants, I’ve long since accepted the truth.”

There was a certain bitterness there and Stretch should let it go, he’d already poked that wound enough. He should, but he still ended up asking, softly, “what truth?”

“That sometimes people don’t get what’s coming to them.” The words were so loaded that Stretch winced and hunched down, almost expecting to hear a gunshot. Instead, Edge sighed, let his anger go on an exhaled breath and he sounded calmer as he asked, “Now you’ve heard my secrets. What about you?”

“me?” Stretch snorted. He kept his gaze on the flowerbeds, tracing the flat round stones of the path, and did not meet Edge’s crimson gaze. “heh, you guys are determined to ferret something out, aren’t you. i keep telling you, i don’t have any secrets. my boyfriend dumped me, and it brought me down, couldn’t get past it, so i left town. ended up here…i should be writing this down, it’s like the start of a country song. shame i don’t have a truck.”

“You’d look terrible in a cowboy hat. And your soul?” Edge asked, gentle but implacable.

“that’s not a secret,” Stretch muttered, “i just don’t want to talk about it.” He’d talked about it plenty back in Ebott, for all the good it did him, and he’d hoped to leave those chats behind when he got on the bus.

“Fair enough,” Edge tugged on his hand suddenly, pulling Stretch to his feet, “Come on.”

He barely gave Stretch a minute to catch his balance before he started to run, heedless of his bare feet as Stretch stumbling on after him. His brief, absurd surge of fear that they were, ‘oh, fuck, running from something,’ faded as Edge laughed aloud, pulling him past trees and through flowerbeds, around the corner of the house into the backyard again. Off to the side of the garden beneath a large tree was a massive pile of fallen leaves in a messy sprawl of browns and golds, and Stretch only realized what Edge intended when it was too late to stop him, barely stuttering out a “wait--!” before he leapt and yanked Stretch along with him.

They landed together in a cacophony of brittle crunching and the blinding, whispering surge of leaves launching into the air. Stretch sputtered and flailed, wallowing in the pile that was somehow soft and weirdly crisp at the same time, billowing around him as he floundered.

Somehow, he managed to find out which way was upright again and burst out on the surface, swimming through leaves, and through the madness, he could hear Edge laughing, that deep, rich voice sharing out happiness. For the first time in what felt like an endless dry spell, his soul felt like it was full, joy pouring into it, filling up the empty space in his chest.

“you’re crazy,” Stretch laughed, spitting out a leaf, and watched as Edge flopped back in the leaves, arms and legs moving and sending up another wild swirl of crunchy browns and golds.

“Perhaps,” Edge called, raising his voice over the cronch. “But I made you smile.”

“the technique could use work, but i can’t argue with the results.” He looked up and for the first time, Stretch noticed that not all the trees here were loaded with green. His grin slowly faded. “the leaves are falling.”

“Yes,” Edge’s smile eased down, understanding dawning, and he shuffled through the leaves to Stretch, reaching for him, “It’s a late summer heat right now, but yes. The corn is ripe, autumn is coming and soon.”

Autumn was coming, too fast, and there was nothing Stretch could do to stop it, but that didn’t mean he had to let it go. He was a little sick of letting things just happen around him and Backwater was getting him into the habit of doing something about it. “i want to see edgar allen again. you think if i went back to the field, the corn would give me a pass?”

“I think that a visit can be arranged without that being an issue.” Between the two of them, they managed to wade out of the pile onto solid ground, both of them shedding leaves as Edge headed back into the garden. He skirted the wall of sunflowers, leading Stretch deeper into the rows. Right into a small patch of corn, the tips of the leaves already yellowed and curling.

Stretch stopped abruptly, his sneakers sinking into the soft soil as he stared, “is that…?” In the middle of the little field there was a scarecrow hanging from a crossbar. It looked exactly like Edgar Allen, from the greasepaint face down to the plaid shirt, only now, there was a scarf looped around his neck, the very same one Stretch left in offering.

“It is,” Edge agreed softly. “He is every scarecrow. They awaken when needed or summoned.” He gave Stretch a nudge, hard enough for him to stumble forward a step deeper into the field. “Talk to him. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Talk to him. Right. Stretch swallowed hard, trying to shuffle aside his sudden misgivings. His voice creaked like a rusty hinge as he managed a weak, “edgar?

Then he watched, fascinated. He could nearly see the life filling those limp limbs, the burlap sack of his head lifting as he raised it, and he knew the exact moment Edgar caught sight of Stretch in front of him.

“Well, hey pal! Good ta see ya!” That croaky voice was the same as Stretch remembered and he smiled helplessly, watching Edgar unwind an arm from the bar that held him up to touch the bandana around his neck, “Wanted ta thank ya for the new gear!”

“it looks good on you,” Stretch managed. The turkey-red fabric was bright against the faded plaid of his shirt and Stretch wondered how long it would take for the sun to bleach it out. Would there even be time before Edgar…ended? Did his clothes vanish with him or was he left out in the field to rot after his seasonal duty? He didn’t know and found he didn’t want to ask. For fuck’s sake, Stretch barely even knew the guy, if he was a guy, and still his soul heavy with sorrow.

“Corn thought so, too,” Edgar Allen said gleefully. “Nattered on ‘bout it for hours. Kept me awake for an age, I tell ya.” For all that his face never changed from that greasepaint sneer, Stretch could almost feel the sudden surge of sleepiness rising in the air, the way Edgar took hold of his support again, and slumped back down, “Still restin’ up from it. Thanks, again. See ya around, pal, give me a call if ya need me?”

“i will,” Stretch said and as he watched, that animation faded, life seeping away and leaving behind a nothing but straw-filled bundle of clothes.

A gentle hand settled on his shoulder and Stretch turned to look at Edge, trying to swallow down the thickness of absurd grief in his throat. He’d met Edgar Allen for a total of ten minutes, tops, and it still hurt.

“It’s difficult for him to stay awake when he isn’t needed,” Edge told him softly.

“yeah,” Stretch managed, blinking hard, his sockets aching. “he’ll be dying in a few weeks.”

“Yes, for the season,” Edge agreed, “It’s not really a death, but it is something like it.”

“that sucks, big time.” He understood it, sure, the whole ghost of gyftmas present sort of visit. Didn’t make it suck any less.

“He’s earned his rest and his spirit will return. Perhaps in the spring you can came back to Backwater and meet his recreation.” Edge held out a hand and after swiping angrily at his sockets, Stretch took it, folding their fingers together again. “Come on, it’s starting to get dark.”

It was, Stretch saw dismally, the sunlight creeping through the trees faded and soft with oncoming dusk. He’d already been here a helluva lot longer than he’d meant and it might be an interesting trip back to Red’s if he didn’t hurry; he’d be wandering off the path simply because he couldn’t see the damn thing and he really didn’t feel up to testing the monster bear theory, not today.

The two of them hurried their way back around front. He’d left his bike on the side of the driveway and before Stretch could reach it, the hand in his that had been faithfully leading him all afternoon betrayed him. Suddenly, Stretch found himself yanked around, a tree trunk hard beneath his back.

He looked up with wide sockets and all he could see Edge looming in front of him, stark crimson eye lights boring into his own and arms braced against the tree on either side of him. They weren’t touching, not quite, but he was close, so close Stretch could feel the warmth pouring off of him and it was ridiculous that it made him shiver in the waning heat of the day, an uneasy trill tickling its way up his spine. Something that was not fear was swelling inside him, not fear at all.

“What is it about you?” Edge said abruptly. His eye lights were burning, bright coals in his dark, narrowed sockets.

“what do you—” Stretch started, too weak and a little lost.

He broke off on a confused sound as Edge leaned in suddenly, tried to jerk back but there was nowhere to go as Edge murmured close to Stretch’s audial canal, his breath damp, nearly as solid as a physical touch, “If you think I haven’t noticed your attraction to me, you may wish to redefine the word subtle.”

“uhhhh.” Not that it wasn’t true but getting called out on it right now was a little unexpected, hell, he hadn’t even been looking at Edge’s ass this time. Any reasonable answer slipped away from his fumbling reach. “that’s…i mean…”

“It’s not that you’re unappealing, but as you’ve said several times, you’re getting over a breakup.” A gentle thumb slid along his cheekbone in defiance of what Edge was saying, making Stretch suck in a sharp gasp of breath.

‘Not unappealing.’ Wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement but eh, reviews didn’t always match the product.

“yeah,” Stretch said inanely. “yeah, i am.” As if that meant anything, as if he could even think of anything outside this singular moment. Edge was so close to him, the lines of their bodies separated by bare inches as Stretch breathed out a faint, “sorry.”

He didn’t even know what he was apologizing for.

“I’m not. You aren’t alone in this,” Edge exhaled a soft half-laugh. “I’ve felt an attraction to you since the moment you tried to hit me with that damn lamp. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.”

“yeah, uh,” Stretch swallowed hard, trying to add some starch to his voice, but it was so damned hard (fuck, don’t think that, don’t, shuffle that pun right to the end of the queue). Edge was so close, and the bark of the tree was rough through the back of his t-shirt, lighting digging into his ribcage like a goad, urging him to move, to step forward, to complete that circuit. Stretch didn’t move. “i mean, the way the multiverse theory goes, i’m sort of you. or you’re me. something like that.”

A low chuckle filled the air between them and Stretch closed his sockets, holy fuck, that voice rumbled through him like a miniature earthquake, “That isn’t what I meant at all. You don’t want to talk about your past and that’s fine. But that doesn’t mean the effects don’t linger.” The very tip of Edge’s nasal nodule brushed the side of Stretch’s skull as he sniffed delicately, his warm breath gusting.

Slim fingertips came to rest on his sternum over his damage soul and that single light touch affected him more than the entire groping session in the library. “I can smell your pain, such a deep hurt in your soul. I don’t want to make it worse.”

“edge,” Stretch whispered, closed his sockets against the answering whisper of his own name. There was the slightest pressure of a knee against his own and the temptation was there to spread his legs, to give it a place to rest, and he shouldn’t, they shouldn’t, but that warning voice was getting softer, distant, caught by a shepherd’s hook and hauled off the stage. He’d gone through half a dozen shocks since he woke up this morning, added them to the pile he'd gotten since he’d stepped off that bus. What was one more?

“I know all of that. I know it. So why am I so drawn to you?” Edge murmured distractedly, “What is it about you? Why can’t I leave you alone?” He reeled back, shaking his head as if to clear it, then, nearly pleading, “Don’t let me hurt you.”

A warning, a plea tangled together as one, and Stretch lurched after him, arms reaching with purely reckless intent, “you won’t, you aren’t, don’t go—"

The sudden klaxon of a horn made them jerk apart, Edge stumbling back and putting space between them. Stretch looked up see a rusty old pickup truck making its bumpy way down the path, coming to a stop with a wheezy squeal of brakes.

They watched it together, Edge with tight annoyance creasing his face and Stretch with panting confusion, struggling to get his breathing under control. It turned out to be a hell of a lot easier when the window rolled down the window and Red poked his head out, like getting doused with a bucket of ice water as he called with deliberate cheer, “hey, you two.”

“Brother,” Edge said, the greeting coming from between clenched teeth.

“you have a car?” Stretch asked, outraged. Shame was taking a hasty backseat because holy shit, he’d spent all afternoon on that bike when Red already had a set of wheels?

Red only grinned, a slash of a smile with his golden tooth winking in the dwindling light. “nah, i got a truck.”

“you never said!”

“you never asked,” Red countered. “it was gettin’ late and i got worried. didn’t want ya trying to scooter your way home in the dark, ya didn’t add a headlight to that rustbucket. toss the bike in the back and hop in.”

It wasn’t a question and yeah, somehow, he didn’t think Red was gonna buy that he and Edge were only talking, not this time.

Stretch felt a guilty flush heat his cheekbones, meekly obeying. It was for the best, he told himself, holy shit, yes, he should be grateful that Red showed up when he did, no matter what kind of protest his crotch was currently bleating up at him. The last thing he needed right now was any other attachments and not only because he felt like getting into another relationship right around never, (yeah, never worked for him) and rebound sex with the boss’s little brother was supposed to be off the table.

Getting into anything past friendship with Edge was a Bad Idea all the way around, ‘cause when it came down to it, Edgar Allen wasn’t the only person leaving, now was he. Stretch didn’t want to think about it, kept trying to avoid it, but the knowledge still came up in the back of his head, readying itself to bite him in the ass.

Eventually, Stretch was gonna have to find his own way home.

~~*~~

tbc

[zirkkun]

What are your views on UT!Chara? Are they good, neutral, evil (in your opinion) (No need to answer this ask if you do not want to)

hoo boy let me just. you’ve activated a Secret Essay(tm) of mine anon fbdshabl sorry i’ll try to keep it short LMAO

(under a read more just for a) length b) ut spoilers.. even tho im p sure most of you have beaten the game but who knows lol c) uhh Chara’s story is pretty dark so this has mentions of abuse and whatnot so please be aware of that ^^;;)

Morality alignment wise is like. Idk. I’m bad with assigning that half the time because it’s all subjective in a way right oh no my true neutralness surfaces like for example I wouldn’t do something I think is bad right? But someone else might think it’s bad. (Like my 16 yr old self might consider me today a terrible person just bc I like Undertale lol 16 yr old me is rude don’t listen to them) If I were to put them on a kind of DnD like alignment scale though, I think I would probably put them in a lawful neutral kind of alignment, maybe leaning a bit towards lawful evil.

But here’s the thing. Without Chara having any sort of backstory as to why they hate humans? It’s very hard for me to gauge where their motivation lies for the things that they did. Based off of what Asriel tells you when you talk to him in the Ruins, the genocide route, and the bits of narration we have, we can pretty much assume:

- Chara was pretty abusive, this is undeniably a fact even from just watching the videos in the True Lab; and while Asriel recognizes this, he didn’t want to lose them because they were the only one he felt close to. Which is likely part of the abuse they dealt by making him feel alone without them. - Chara hated humanity for reasons they would not disclose to Asriel, but it’s pretty implied that they attempted to commit suicide by jumping into Mt. Ebott. This could mean that they were abused in their past, which could in turn provide reason for their abusive nature (because, with Chara being a child, it’s very likely that they took in the personalities of those around them to make their own person up. Even though they were hurting, they didn’t exactly know why, and even still, many people with an abusive history that end up abusive themselves might not even recognize that they’re being abusive, which might be the case for Chara as well.) - Chara probably cared for Asriel. There’s a lot of things to indicate that they may have faked it or maybe it seems like they didn’t by their abusive nature towards Asriel, but it’s unlikely that Chara would fake caring about someone. If they jumped off the side of a mountain because they hated the people they were around so much, there’s very little reason for them to pretend they liked someone at the potential expense of their own happiness. More likely than not, Chara desperately wanted to keep Asriel close, but ended up being really controlling in an attempt to keep him close. Additionally, when you hug Asriel at the end of the True Pacifist route, the line “Hah... I don’t want to let go...” is said by the narrator, indicating it may have been Chara who said it. But considering how Sans also has lines that are spoken silently and in the default font, this may not be entirely accurate.  - Imma go off for a second about genocide because i have a pet peeve about when people suddenly decide that Chara is the one that caused it. This doesn’t make any sense -- but at the same time, with little to no games considering the Player and Player-Insert character to be two seperate characters, it’s no surprise to me that people i guess “projected” onto Chara. However, if you seperate the player from Frisk (in the same manner that Kris and the Player are seperate in Deltarune), it becomes easier to understand. Chara had nothing against the monsters. They liked monsterkind. It’s extremely unlikely that they would have the motivation to kill all of the monsters on their own. This wasn’t created until far into the genocide route, where the player has done most of the work for them. Chara is now living on pure Determination, which as we know is void of care and purely puts a person on a path of achieving their last desire, and once they wake up like this, with most of monsterkind already dead... well, what else is there to live for? They already attempted to kill humanity, failed, and now the only people they treasured have fallen like flies. Nothing matters in this world. Might as well delete the whole thing to finish the job. (also Frisk doesn’t have any motivations of their own either... unlike Kris they are shown to have no specific motivations (that i’m aware of?) one way or another and don’t reject the player ever so the idea that a canon frisk would reject the genocide route doesn’t make sense to me either. obvs au’s are exempt because they’re free real estate lmao anyway this is unrelated) - Chara’s a very calculated and observent person as well -- just look at how they died? They weren’t even afraid of death. They poisoned themselves with full faith that Asriel would take their Soul and bring them back to life (which also goes back to my point about how much Chara cared for Asriel, since, if they didn’t trust him, they would not have left him with that huge responsibility) by absorbing their Soul into his own body so they could exist as one. Chara saw their death as a stepping stone in their plan. All this from just seeing Asgore accidentally eat buttercups once and getting sick. A whole plan to get revenge on the people who hurt them from that. They even made a statement about wanting to be placed back on the Surface just to cover Asriel’s ass when he eventually took Chara on his own to the Surface. - okay this is probably just more of a me thing, but I’ve never gotten the whole “Chara hates Sans” concept. But considering I also don’t really think of Chara as the one who attempted the genocide route, I guess it makes sense. Chara probably doesn’t care about Sans one way or another, really, and Sans probably has very little idea who Chara is. I’ve always seen Sans’s statements during his battle said directly towards the Player, more or less using Frisk as the messenger -- like, for example (yes I have this on hand don’t judge me):

“sounds strange, but before this i was secretly hoping we could be friends. i always thought the anomaly was doing this because they were unhappy. and when they got what they wanted, they would stop all this. and maybe all they needed was. i dunno. some good foods, some bad laughs, some nice friends. but that’s ridiculous, right? yeah. you’re the type of person who won’t EVER be happy.”

- (cont) At this point it sort of taps into something I was gonna write for that Sans essay but here we go. I bolded “the anomaly” because this is the point where he directly refers to the player as their own individual in the game. What’s the only thing that’s different between Undertale and any moments of his life previous? The player. Hence, anomaly. Even Chara would have existed before the player showed up, right? Chara fell sometime within the 2010′s according to the opening of the game, and in between that time and when Frisk showed up, 6 other humans fell into the Underground. Clearly none of them had the same powers Frisk did, because otherwise, they would have not died and left their Soul behind for Asgore to use. That leaves one thing different -- player interference. Chara even directly states that the player is the one who woke them up with Determination, meaning they were asleep (or dead) for every year previous to their arrival. Sans probably only knows them as “the first human” like every other monster in the Underground (aside from the Dreemurs, of course).

i could probably go on for a while. but i will save you the time you probably didn’t want to spend reading this already by shutting up fdbshafb

[1-800-roflmao]

Wash Day Delight Pt. 3

Rating:  General Audiences

WARNINGS:  None

Fandom:  Undertale (Video Game)

Relationships:  Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader,  Papyrus (Underfell) & Reader

Characters:  Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Edge (UF Pap), and Mentions of Other AU Skeletons

Additional Tags:  Reader Is Not Frisk (Undertale), Reader Is Not Chara (Undertale), reader is poc, Reader has curly hair,  Undertale Monsters on the Surface, Friendship, Wholesome, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, I'm Bad At Summaries, Not Beta Read, Romance if you squint, Subtext, Let Papyrus be Sassy, Edge Is The Unwilling Dad Friend, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Humor, Slice of Life

*I was vague with reader's scent on purpose. Some of use love coconut milk or oil or Shea butter, but it's not universal. I like Manuka honey blends~

And it's always the bra that get ditched first!

PREVIOUS || FIRST || NEXT

“So, what took so long with Mrs. Ida?” She had just finished locking up the house and they were now descending the back staircase.  It had been a mad dash to get finished and out the door since she flustered Papyrus in the bathroom.  If it was petty vengeance for teasing him, she didn’t know, but he had threatened to carry her out in a much similar way to how he does with Sans if she didn’t “MAKE HASTE.”  Needless to say, she hadn’t been given a moment until now to inquire what had happened earlier that evening.  “I was startin’ ta wonder if you’d gotten lost…” she mumbled, her tone giving away just how worried she had been despite trying to joke it off now.  She could hear him lightly click his teeth in acknowledgement.  

“Mrs. Ida Had Not Driven Here,” he started and she arched a brow before chuckling as it clicked.  How had she not considered a woman of Ida’s age might not drive?  Would it have been presumptuous to have asked though?  “She Had Said She ‘Caught’ A Cab, But Not Literally,” he was rambling a bit, but she wasn't complaining.  She lifted her gaze from the paved pathway they were walking along and up to her friend.  She could hear an edge of bashfulness to his voice as he admitted the old woman taught him about “euphemisms.”  His retelling was quickly veering off into a tangent, ranging from complaining and praising the many different facets of language to pondering if it was worth getting his brother some study materials.  He griped it was a fifty-fifty chance to either improve his jokes and puns, or make them so much worse.  

“Oh, I think it’d be worth it!” she piped up, looking away as he cut off his rant and directed his gaze down at her.  She didn’t need to look at him right now.  She could very easily guess his expression and just knew those sockets of his were narrowing as he sent her a suspicious look.  

A beat of silence then “THEN I WILL LEAVE SANS ALONE.” 

She fought back a giggle, “Aw, c’mon!  Don’t you want his puns to be up to your standards?”  She tipped her head back as she directed a cheeky grin his way.  

Papyrus just huffed, crossing his arms over his chest which was now missing the pastel sweater from earlier.  He had taken it off before they left the house to reveal his “Jog Boy” top.  “IT IS OBVIOUS YOU ARE HOPING FOR THE OPPOSITE!” he rebuked, “AND DON’T EVEN TRY TO ARGUE. I KNOW YOU TOO WELL! BEST. FRIEND.”  He emphasized those last two words like it was the most solid evidence to ever exist.  

With a little defeated shrug of her shoulders, she blew a raspberry his way.  “Fiiiine,” she drug out the word, “But you know you love his jokes and puns anyways.”  A frustrated noise hissed past his teeth as he shamefully agreed.  “Soooo, going off that logic…” she started, a devious curl to her lips and twinkle in her eyes as she moved in front the skeleton.  “Wouldn’t you love his jokes EVEN MORE if they got WORSE?” she pushed, brows waggling as she watched Papyrus freeze, his mind working through what she just said.  Once his mind finally wrapped around her hypothesis, he gripped his skull, falling to his knees, and let out possibly the most anguished, dramatic scream.  Apparently, he couldn't find fault with his human friend’s absurd logic.

○●○●○●○●○

     The temperature outside had dropped once again in such little time and despite the slight chill, she couldn’t feel any of it.  It would be a miracle at this point if she could.  No, she’d be thankful to as it would mean she wouldn’t be having the workout from hell right now.   Maybe she had teased him a wee bit too much.  

“Paaaapiiiii!” she griped, surprised she could even get out a whine that long considering she could barely catch her breath, “I said! I was-!”  What was supposed to be an easy jog had turned a into suicide run.  “SORRY!”  Papyrus was behind her setting the pace and any time she slowed too much, he would pinch or smack whatever part of her he could reach at that moment.  So far, her left butt cheek had felt the brunt of it along with her upper thighs.  

“FOCUS!  CONTROL YOUR BREATHING, HUMAN!” he snapped, ignoring her plea,  and she wondered briefly if maybe Edge had snuck up and taken her normally gentle friend’s place.  A pinch on her elbow had her picking up her pace and focusing on the now.  She had already learned she wasn’t allowed to look back, plus it didn’t help any with balance or keeping pace.  “LOOK!  THERE IS YOUR GOAL ONLY A FEW MORE STEPS UP AHEAD!”  Curse him for not even sounding out of breath.  She knew these skeletons don’t technically need to breathe, but at least huff a bit or something in sympathy here.  

Papyrus had not been lying though.  Just one more block down was the gym, or as she thought of it: her salvation.  Zeroing in on the building that was getting closer and closer, she focused on her breathing to bring it down from frantic pants to something more disciplined: slower and deeper.  It was a strange feeling as her mind calmed.  Heh, maybe her old coach had a point when he said the human body can do a lot more than the mind thinks.  

“START SLOWING DOWN,” she gratefully followed the order and began easing her pace, but aware of him behind her still setting the pace.  She supposed one day she would be grateful to him for not letting her come to a dead stop.  Today, in this moment, she wasn’t as the slow ease of the pace was almost as tortuous as the marathon she had been forced to run.  “WE’VE ARRIVED.  YOU CAN REST NOW.” He didn’t need to say it twice as the young woman nearly crumpled before the doors of the gym.  Bent over with hands on splayed knees as she sucked in air like it was going to get away.  She could feel a large hand rubbing her back and was aware that Papyrus was saying something, possibly praises or encouragements, but she could barely hear over the rush of blood, her pounding heart that seemed so much louder and next to her ears, and her puffs that were thankfully slowing as she caught her breath.  

○●○●○●○●○

Papyrus felt just a little guilty as he watched his friend recover from their run, but not enough to apologize.  He kept rubbing soothing circles onto her hunched back.  “AMAZING WHAT WE CAN ACCOMPLISH WHEN WE PUSH OURSELVES,” he gently pushed at her spine, encouraging her to straighten it rather than bowing.  He had a feeling she wasn’t hearing a word he was saying, but continued to sing her praises as he opened his dimensional box and took out a bottle of water.  “LOOK AT THE BRIGHT SIDE! YOU ALREADY HIT YOUR HEART RATE GOAL FOR TONIGHT AND WE CAN WALK BACK,” he cracked the cap on the bottle.  He couldn’t hear her gasping for breath anymore, but she was still hunched over.  “COME ON,  WE STILL-”

“I THOUGHT I RECOGNIZED THAT UNCEASING CHEER,” a new voice cut in, one he recognized as well.  Looking up from his friend, he spotted the pricklier version of himself leaning out the doors of the gym.  Edge’s narrow sockets stared the two of them down, but he felt no ire from the other, just curiosity and some irritation.  

“OH, WELL HELLO, EDGE,” he greeted as cheerfully as he could despite the mounting confusion he was feeling.  He could feel his friend tense for a moment beneath his hand before relaxing again.  Her heart rate had slowed to normal by now, but had picked up just a bit at the mention of Edge.  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” If he remembered correctly, his fell counterpart usually didn’t work out this particular day, or at least not at night.  

Edge only huffed as he finally stepped fully outside and marched up to his doppelganger.  “WHAT DO YOU THINK?” he snipped, arms crossed as he came to a stop just a few feet from the two.  

Oh, how hard Papyrus’s eyelights would have rolled if he had them.  “OH, I DON’T KNOW, BUT SINCE YOU ASKED SO NICELY!” he started, hand lifting to tap a phalange against his chin in feigned thought.  “AHA!  YOU HAVE FINALLY DECIDED TO VISIT THE CHIROPRACTOR WHO WORKS TONIGHT AND GET THAT ATTITUDE STRAIGHTENED UP!” he declared with utmost confidence, somehow managing to sound sincerely elated in a way only Papyrus could.

 A silent staredown ensued as Papyrus just kept smiling brightly in feigned innocence.  He could see that Edge wanted to be mad at him, but couldn’t hide that little proud quirk of his sharp fangs.  The moment was broken as his friend brought attention back to herself with a poorly smothered laugh.  

○●○●○●○●○

She had been quiet through the entire encounter.  Hearing Edge’s voice after just wondering about him during that hellish run had her wondering if she had somehow summoned him with just a single thought.  She took a moment to pray to whatever gods or deities were out there to take mercy on her.  She would hold back on the teasing and being a little shit, just no more torture tonight.  Maybe if she stays real quiet, she could avoid getting Edge’s attention and lessen her chances of irreparable damage.

That all went out the window as a little snort pushed past her lips.  Leave it to Papyrus to sass one of the pointiest, scary-looking monsters around.  “I need to know where you get that audacity from,” she didn’t bother trying to contain the laugh anymore as she straightened up with a roll of her shoulders, “I could use some of it.”

Both skeletons huffed at that, but it was Edge who spoke up first, “YOU HAVE PLENTY OF IT ALREADY, BRAT.”  

Papyrus nodded along, “ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING YOUR BEHAVIOR TONIGHT.”

She pouted, parting her lips to argue, but froze as Edge had uncrossed his arms with an appraising look sent her way.  

“OH?  AND JUST WHAT HAS SHE DONE?” Edge questioned, voice full of amusement as he watched the human between them shake her head and send a pleading look to Papyrus.  She was begging with just her eyes for him to not throw her under the bus. No such luck as he began filling Edge in on all her teasing and poking fun that night.  He decided to add on that she had been running late at that.  

Throughout it all, Edge was prowling closer and closer until he was practically invading her space.  He must have already been working out when they came since she could smell something spicy, like cinnamon, with just a little musk wafting from him once he was close enough.  Usually he was very keen on making sure his scent was barely noticeable, especially after the first time she commented on it.  It hadn’t been a bad comment.  It smelled quite nice, just like now, but since then she only got lucky to get a whiff here and there.  As much as she wanted to take a step back, she stubbornly kept eye contact and straightened up even more.  

“BUT SHE DID RUN ALL THE WAY HERE. NONSTOP,” Papyrus had finished his recount with her most recent accomplishment.  She let herself feel proud as she watched Edge’s cruel smile soften just a bit with awe and pride.  With how close he was though, she could practically feel the rumble as he hummed thoughtfully.  

“Then I Guess She Has Earned Forgiveness,” his voice should not be allowed to be at that volume.  It still had that scratchy quality to it, but the low volume just increased that damnable rumbling that was causing warmth to bloom in her chest and hopefully not on her face.  “BUT,” she gulped as that cruel lilt returned and he leaned in, “WHY STOP THERE?” No.  “I THINK IT’S TIME WE HELP OUR FRIEND LEARN WHAT HER NEW LIMITS ARE.  AREN’T YOU CURIOUS, BRAT?” No, no she was not.  

In a last ditch effort to get out this, she leaned to look pleadingly at Papyrus, but he wasn’t even paying her any mind as he seemed to be pondering something.  One foot was tapping as he rested an elbow in the palm of his opposing arm’s hand.  A water bottle was pinned between his arm and chest.  A distal phalange tapped away at his temple as he hummed.  Sockets squinted for the few moments he took to think it over.  Hope bloomed as he finally looked to them with that signature toothy grin of his.  “GREAT IDEA, EDGE!”  How quickly hope shattered.     

○●○●○●○●○

~THREE HOURS LATER~

○●○●○●○●○

“I hate you both…” the words lacked energy and any true vitriol.  She couldn’t even muster the energy to feel any shame or shyness pertaining to her current predicament.  She was now aware of muscles she never knew she had and she was sure the next morning would be hell.  Would she even be able to move tomorrow?  These two had done just what they promised and pushed her to find new limits, but the cost was her ability to pretty much function on her own.  Her legs were like jelly and her arms were just barely listening to her.  Her core wasn’t putting up a fuss right now, but she knew it was coming.  Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad as the two had made sure she drank water, stretched, and did cool downs.   

Papyrus had taken pity on her when he saw her physical state and insisted he carry her.  He had won despite her stubborn efforts to stand and walk in the locker room afterwards.  Edge had even chided her, telling her to quit being fussy, and just accept the help or crawl.  She doubted he would have actually let her crawl out the gym. 

“We Know You Don’t Mean That,” one of her tormentors answered with a far too jovial tone.  The other just snickered off to her left and feeling contrary, she turned her face the opposite way, which ended up with her pretty much nuzzling into Papyrus’s neck as he was currently carrying her piggyback.  Rather than looping his arms under her knees and holding her that way, he had gone with braiding his fingers behind his back and letting her pretty much sit on his palms.   His arms kept her legs pinned to his sides.  He was bent forward slightly which kept her from having to hold on as tightly and instead just lay against his back.  

An indignant huff was the only answer she graced them with.   She could feel Papyrus’s little laugh more than hear it as it caused her to bounce gently on his back.  Meanwhile, the smell of sweet mint and citrus invaded her senses from where her face was tucked.  It was honestly a little unfair how these skeletons could smell so good after a hard workout.  She hoped she didn’t stink… 

A sharp distal poked her shoulder and stubbornly she ignored its owner.  The pokes continued until finally it was just stabbing into her already sore flesh and she gave in, rolling to face the sharp skeleton once more.  To her surprise, a banana was currently being held right in front of her face.  It had already been partially peeled.  She blinked and it was still there.  “A banana?” she mumbled, mentally slapping herself for stating the obvious.

Edge snickered, “AT LEAST THAT MUSCLE IN YOUR HEAD IS STILL SOMEWHAT VIABLE.”  His humor had always been drier than the Sahara and now was no exception.  Any witness would have thought he was beating a dog that was already down.

“If you’re talking about my brain, it’s actually made of fat,” she replied, just as dry and resting her cheek against Papyrus’s shoulder.  For a skeleton, he was surprisingly comfy and his easy pace was gradually rocking her to sleep.  Said skeleton made a noise best described as a “SNRK!” not long after what she said.  Edge had only released a drawn out sigh.  At least one of them appreciated her humor.  

“JUST EAT THE DAMN BANANA, YOU BRAT,” he moved it closer insistently, looking and sounding very much like a tired mom trying to get her child to eat the last piece of broccoli on their plate.  

A pause then, “No.”  

“NO?” 

“No.”

“WHY?”

“Where did you even get a banana from?”

“I HAD IT.”

“So, you just carry around a banana all the time?”

“NO, YOU DISCOUNT KAOLA.”

“Awww, and here I thought I was an upgrade.”

“QUIT TRYING TO DIVERT THE CONVERSATION AND EAT IT.”

“Fine… but only if you tell me why I should.”

Edge sucked in an unneeded breath as he nearly vibrated in irritation.  He took a moment to calm before gritting out, "FINE."  She was just a little impressed he had an answer.  “POTASSIUM IS SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD FOR EASING AND PREVENTING CRAMPS.  BANANAS, I READ, APPARENTLY CONTAIN IT.  THUS EATING IT SHOULD HELP YOU BE LESS OF A USELESS LUMP TOMORROW,” he explained, concise and leaving no room for argument, “AND QUIT YOUR LAUGHING, CREAMPUFF.  YOU’RE NOT HELPING THE MATTER.”  Her sleepy, tired brain processed the information and found no fault.  A memory of an old movie where the parents were shrunk and the kids were left on their own came to mind as she remembered it mentioning something about bananas and potassium as well.   

“Okay, you win,” she conceded, chuckling quietly as the scarred skeleton sighed in relief.  Edge had far more patience than most give him credit for.  At one point in the past, he would have just shoved the fruit in her mouth or just stormed off, but now he was willing to put up with the back and forth.  Maybe he actually enjoyed banter?  Earlier, he seemed to be proud of Papyrus’s sass.  

Sleepy and not thinking, she leaned forward and took a bite of the banana.  It was just at the right ripeness she noted as she chewed contentedly.  She didn’t notice how quiet either skeleton was or that they had come to stop before a black classic Ford Mustang.

○●○●○●○●○

Edge’s mind had blanked as he watched the scene play out.  This human, rather than simply taking the fruit from his hand and eating it normally, had instead leaned forward slowly and carefully.  There was a little sway to her movement, a little shake in her arms as she curled her fingers tighter in to the Creampuff’s shirt to steady herself, and he instinctively brought up his free hand to hover near her just in case.  “WATCH WH-what you...” his words faded out as she finally reached the fruit and took a small bite.  To top it off, she was doing that absurdly cute little wiggle and hum that human women seemed to commonly do when they ate something they liked.  

“I Can Just Feel The Cavities Forming…” he grumbled under his breath, diverting his eyes from her and her adorable display before a blush could rise.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his doppelganger sending him a sly look and he didn’t bother suppressing a growl.  It was cut off as he felt her taking another bite.  “WOULD YOU JUST HOLD IT?” he snapped.  

“But I’ve got to hold on,” she had mumbled in reply after swallowing her last bite, “And you told me to eat it.  You didn’t tell me how.”  He resisted the urge to pinch her nose for that smart remark and just sucked in a deep breath before slowly releasing.  

“She Makes A Good Point,” his softer counterpart imputted.

Edge could only level a deadpan stare on his duplicate, “NOT. HELPING.”  Papyrus had the nerve to laugh and the woman resting against his back giggled as she bounced due to it.  Shaking his head, he fished his keys from his black joggers’ pockets and unlocked the driver’s side door.  Before he got too far, he pushed the banana into the young woman’s hand with a quick order to hold on to it since he needed both his hands.  He swiftly put down the seat so the back seat could be accessed.  While he was sure Papyrus wouldn’t mind her riding in his lap on the way home, he didn’t think he could take anymore public displays of affection tonight.  No matter how platonic they are.  

“Alright, Get In The Backseat,” he ordered as he moved to the side.  He pinched at his nose ridge as he watched Papyrus move to get in the back with her, “NOT YOU. HER. JUST HER.”  There was no room for argument and no matter how much the Creampuff looked like a puppy that just had its treat stolen, he wasn’t giving in.  Thankfully, the woman’s little head pats she placed on his skull seemed to appease him.  Wait, how was she- oh.  He held in a snicker at the ridiculous image she presented.  She had freed up one of her hands by holding the banana in her mouth, while her other still gripped at his shirt.  A good sign she had some of her strength back at least.

○●○●○●○●○

Papyrus had at first been annoyed at the thought of Edge butting in on their hang out time, but had warmed up to it rather quickly.  Plus, Edge had informed them that he had missed his usual work time session the day before due to an emergency at his restaraunt.  It truly was coincidence.  It had been fun and having Edge there kept him from going soft on her tonight.  It was honestly amusing how she’d gripe and moan and beg, but would push through through the sets and exercises anyway.  He’d seen a new side to her as Edge decided to poke at her pride during weight lifting and she had lifted more in that deadlift than he could have ever expected.  She’d said it had been fueled by “pure spite” at that moment and not to expect it as the norm.  They had new bars set and she’d be less peeved at them when she saw how far she had come along.

Afterwards, it had been decided they would take Edge’s car back to her house, rather than parting ways.  While he wasn’t feeling it nearly as intensely as his companion currently resting on his back, he had been pushing himself as well to be fair.  Edge, being as observant as ever, had noticed.   He couldn’t argue against the logic that it wasn’t a good or safe idea for an exhausted monster and person of color to walk home this late.  By now, Sixth Street should be bustling with life and sometimes a few strays wander down teh other streets.  They’re not always trouble, but why risk it?  

With her this close, he was surrounded by her scent.  Mostly her hair products, but he could smell the musk of her sweat as well and sweet lotion.  It wasn’t bad, but he knew not to comment on it either way.  He was sure she could smell him and he just hoped she didn’t mind.   She hadn’t pulled away at any point or complained so maybe he was safe.  He kept one gripe to himself about tonight.  At this moment, if she had kept her hair down, those curls would be touching his face and neck.  A sorely missed opportunity.

Her and Edge had bickered most the way and he had valiantly tried not laugh, only to fail in the end.  It was just such ridiculous little diatribes.  It was all so cute, Edge included, but now they had reached his car and he’d have to put her down. 

She was currently petting his skull in an effort to comfort and it was working.  Her cheek still rested against his shoulder with her lips wrapped around the banana, just holding it in her mouth.  Her free hand that wasn’t gripped his shirt had stopped the gentle petting motion and now just rested her palm against the top of his skull.  He could feel one of her fingers just rubbing in a slow circle.  Now, that just isn’t fair-

“I WILL HAVE DUSTED BY TIME YOU TWO DECIDE TO FINISH WITH THIS,” his doppelganger snipped with an irritated huff and jerk of his hand to the back seat once again.  “EITHER PUT HER DOWN OR I WILL CONFISCATE HER MYSELF,” he threatened, his already sharp sockets narrowing further as his sharp teeth tipped up at the edges.  

Papyrus didn’t know if he should be impressed the other had not threatened to just leave them or flustered at his counterpart's subtext.  He would leave those thoughts for later.  For now, he crouched down carefully and with Edge’s help, they helped their companion off his back and into the seat.  By the time he made it around the vehicle and settled into the passenger’s seat, Edge was already seated in the driver’s side and in the rear view he could his friend eating with ease.  He called her name and she looked up curiously, still chewing her last bite, “Do You Need Require Any Water At The Moment?”  

She just shook her head and swallowed her mouthfull, “Not unless that water is part of a shower.”  

“A Shower Does Sound Nice Right Now,” he agreed.  He could hear Edge grunting in agreement as he turned the key in the ignition and put the car into gear.  The engine roared to life and the dash board lit up, showing off the upgrades Edge had done to the classic model.  It wasn’t long before they pulling out the spot and onto the road, heading back to her little abode on Eighth Street.  

“Human,” the sharper of the two skeletons called and glanced into the mirror to check if she was paying attention, “Hopefully, You Do Not Plan To Work Tomorrow After Tonight.”  It should have been a question, but it sounded more like a command.  

“I Have To Agree With My Cousin On This,” Papyrus piped in as he saw her looking like she wanted to argue.  She pursed her lips as he kept talking, “You’ll Be Dreadfully Sore Tomorrow Most Likely.”  

“And I wonder whose fault that is,” she didn’t hesitate with a little click of her tongue.  Papyrus atleast had the shame to wince, but beat down the guilt as their driver sent him a sharp look.  A look that said don’t back down.  

“No Matter Who's At Fault Here,” Edge started, coming to a stop at a four way and putting on his blinker.  Sharp red eyelights lit in his sockets and locked with the young woman’s gaze in the mirror.  “Your Body Still Needs Rest.  Doing Anything Other That Tomorrow Would Only Be Punishing Yourself For No Good Reason,” he scolded and gave her a moment to nod and voice her understanding before extinguishing his eyelights.  

The rest of the car ride was void of chatter as Edge put on some soft music and his passengers fought off sleep.  One because the trip was too short to provide a decent nap and would just result him being groggy.  The other because she was now responsible for an empty banana peel and she’d rather not drop it on any part of this vehicle that felt far too expensive for her to be sitting in. 

○●○●○●○●○

Finally, Edge was pulling the black Mustang over and parking just infront Papyrus’s red Ferrari.  She swears these two just visiting the area raised property values.  She scooted closer to Edge’s side as he got out and started putting down the seat.  Once it was down, she took Edge’s offered hand and let him help her out.  She was happy to see she could stand again, but that didn’t say anything about the stairs she needed to climb.  Even ground was one thing, but an incline… she may be crawling to bed after all. 

“Do You Think You Can Make It OR-?” her sharp friend started to question, but let the rest hang for her to fill in.  Despite how prickly he could be, he was honestly a sweetheart once you earned his trust.  

“Well…” she trailed off as Papyrus cleared his nonexistent throat and made his presence known once again.  One glance at him and she felt like smacking herself for almost forgetting.  “Oh right, Papi, you left your sweater inside,” she laughed, “You’re lucky, I could use another comfy sweater to add to my collection.”   There were a few of the skeletons whose sweaters she’d love to steal; namely, the lazier of the brothers had the prime specimens.

Papyrus just shook his head, “Maybe Asking Nicely Would Get You Better Results,” he adminished.  

Is that so? “Pretty please, can I keep your sweater?” she went for it with a hopeful smile, which was quickly dashed as he cackled softly with a dry “NO.”  She could even hear Edge snorting as he stifled a laugh behind his fist.  If she had the energy, she’d whine a bit, but her bed was calling her.  Turning her attention back to Edge, she nodded, “Thanks for joining us tonight.  It was fun.”  After a moment, she added one last thought, “You should join us more often.”  She meant it.  Even if the workout had been harder than she was used to, it was nice to have someone who knew how to push her buttons and get her to push herself.  

Edge’s sharp visage softened just slightly and he sent her an appreciative smile, nodding.  “Maybe I Will.”

○●○●○●○●○

It had been a blessing that Papyrus needed to get his sweater from the apartment as she had nearly crumpled going up the stairs.  The poor skeleton had been fretting about her something fierce and ended up just carrying her up the stairs as watching her struggle had apparently been too stressful.  It had taken plenty coaxing and reassuring that she would be fine and wouldn’t be completely helpless on her own.  He’d made her pinky promise to not shower or bathe tonight as he didn’t trust her to not slip and fall or fall asleep and drown.  He’d ordered her to bed immediately and she wasn’t arguing.  That had been an order from the heavens.  

She’d wasted no time after sharing a hug goodbye and he was on his way down the stairs to lock up and draw her curtains.  She’d shed her clothes like a snake once she had stepped foot in her room.  A trail of clothes, starting with her bra and ending with her socks and shoes now stretched across her floor.  She didn’t bother finding a night shirt and simply face planted on her bed with relieved sigh as the cool sheets and comforter kissed her bare skin.  

She wasn’t too worried about going to bed sweaty.  She’d decided on the way home to have a  wash day tomorrow.  It’s been due, but now with this workout, it was definitely needed.   She could just enjoy pampering her body, hair, and scalp.  A nice little spa day.  She could change and wash her sheets then as well, so no harm done.  

Her phone buzzing from somewhere in her room barely registered with her.  It wasn’t until it buzzed a few more times that she forced herself to sit up and look around her dark room for the infernal device.  It needed to be plugged up anyway now that she remembers.  Spotting the phone on the floor near her abandoned clothes, she slid off her bed and scooped it up.  Tapping the screen, she winced as it lit up and quickly lowered the brightness.  

No longer in danger of being blinded, she saw the notifications from earlier that she had forgotten to check and a few new ones.  Some were junk, but most were messages from friends, family, and one for work.  She would reply to the work one tomorrow when she has a fresh mind and it was a decent hour.  She rolled her eyes good naturedly as she opened a message from Papyrus.  

 

Papaya:  REMEMBER TO REST TOMORROW.  GOOD NIGHT!

Papaya:  WHY ARE YOU NOT SLEEPING?!  

Papaya:  PUT DOWN THE PHONE AND GO TO BED!

Papaya:  I KNOW IT’S A DIFFICULT THING TO DO WHEN YOU HAVE A TXTING BUDDY AS GREAT AS ME!!

Papaya:  BUT YOU MUST. 

 

    A little snort burst past her lips as the messages kept coming in, all along the same note.  She tapped the little text box and sent him a quick little message:

 

Flooffie:  Pot calling the kettle black

Flooffie:  XP

 

    Closing the convo as she saw him typing, she breezed through the rest of her texts.  She sent quick little replies where needed, but most turned out to be bad puns and one liners from the jokesters of the family.  Coffee had sent her a cute little doodle he had made her with a note saying he’d like to see that hairstyle on her.  It was cute.  She sent him a couple heart emojis and a thumbs up.  She could type a thought out reply tomorrow.  Switching her phone to silent, she plugged it up and crawled back into bed.  It seemed her head had barely hit her pillows before sleep swept her under.  

[faerytale-au]

The Shopping Trip

Word Count: 3,775 Second Prompt Place: After ‘A Gate Between’ Rating: T Cross posted to ao3 here!

“going out?” Sans asked as Frisk leaned over to grab one of the empty satchels Papyrus held out to her. His younger brother offering a cheerful smile as he looked at him.

“YES, FRISK WANTED TO EXPLORE SO I INSISTED ON HER COMING WITH ME.” Sans grinned in amusement, a human wanting to go explore the Seelie realm. If he’d heard that before meeting her it would’ve been enough to send him into a chuckle fit. 

Their home could be so hazardous to humans at times.

He frowned briefly but ignored the pang of worry, she was going to be with Papyrus there wasn’t anyone else more capable of protecting her than his cool brother. And of course Frisk was going to want to explore her new home, so trying to tempt her into staying wasn’t likely to work anyhow, he had honestly expected it sooner. 

Still the fact something could happen...

With a lazy step forward he casually wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into a hug. The other slipping a small jingling bag into her satchel. “have fun love, don’t get lost k?” 

Frisk blushed but leaned into the hug with a small smile, still getting used to the rare instances that Sans would call her by the term of endearment. But the fluster in her chest was little in comparison to her growing excitement. 

She’d been stuck in the house for a few weeks now and this was not only something she felt she needed but the brothers as well, it wasn’t good to be cooped up together nonstop. And if the new added weight in her hands said anything Sans understood to a degree.

“I’ll try not to.” She responded with a small peck to his cheek. Papyrus let out a sigh.

“BROTHER YOU WORRY TOO MUCH SHE’LL BE FINE, NO NEED TO PANIC.” Frisk raised a brow and glanced at Sans whose sockets creased with guilt. Sans was panicking? He seemed relaxed, his hold on her wasn’t tight and his tone had been as calm as it often was. 

Sans however let out a huff as he reluctantly let go of her. “you’re right bro, my bad.” 

Papyrus and Sans shared a look that Frisk didn’t know how to read but the moment they both smiled whatever had been passing between them seemed to vanish and Sans looked just a bit more cheerful as he went over and plopped down on the couch. Frisk went to question it but Papyrus was already showing her out the front door and down the steps before she could blink.

It wasn’t until they were a good several feet from the house before Papyrus spoke up. “I APOLOGIZE, I’VE NEVER SEEN SANS ACT THAT WAY BEFORE. IT SHOCKED ME. I DIDN’T MEAN TO SNAP LIKE THAT.” Frisk could only blink in confusion.

“Papyrus did I miss something?” He looked down at her questioningly. “Sans didn’t look upset or anything and you didn’t exactly snap per say.” 

The taller Seelie stopped to peer down at Frisk curiously, his stare making her fidget as she paused beside him and waited for him to continue. The way he looked at her was measuring, contemplative, and when he responded it was like he was watching his words.

“HOW TO EXPLAIN. WE SEELIE CAN DETECT WHEN SOMEONE’S MAGIC IS UNSETTLED AND WHEN WE CAN’T CERTAIN ACTIONS ARE MORE THAN ENOUGH TO TELL WHEN SOMETHING IS WRONG.” Frisk listened carefully as he rubbed the back of his vertebra awkwardly. “SANS FOR EXAMPLE, I’VE NEVER SEEN HIM BEING TOUCHY OFTEN, ESPECIALLY WHEN CONCERNED.”

He had simply hugged her, not even fully. 

How Papyrus was making it out though it sounded as if the idea of her going out had terrified him. She knew Sans wasn’t big on contact but he had been more than okay with it ever since they’d confessed their feelings to each other. 

Heck she couldn’t even cook dinner without him hugging or stealing a kiss in some convoluted way, as cute as it often was.

“It honestly didn’t come across that way.” Papyrus hummed as he resumed walking, Frisk taking a hurried step once realizing it to keep up as she eye contact. He had such long strides it never failed to amaze her how much distance he could cover.

“WELL I’M SURE ONCE YOUR MAGIC STARTS DEVELOPING YOU’LL SEE HOW HIS MAGIC WAS ACTING UP. SEELIE CAN SEE EACH OTHERS MAGIC SIMILAR TO AN OUTLINE AROUND EACH OTHER WHEN PERMITTED OR IF THE OTHER IS FEELING STRONG EMOTIONS.” Frisk furrowed her brows thoughtfully.

“Is that why you were both staring at each other? You were communicating by reading the others magic?” Papyrus smiled brilliantly, the sheer pride in it at how quickly she had figured it out making her smile in return.

“YOU TRULY ARE A FAST LEARNER FRISK, I CAN’T SEE WHY THAT LAZY BONES WAS SO WORRIED IN THE FIRST PLACE. YOU’LL BE FINE.” Frisk’s cheeks stung as they flushed at the praise, a feeling of happiness warming her chest as they walked, both of them falling into companionable silence.

~~

The street was crowded, all types of oddly shaped and differently colored Seelie all milling about either on foot or floating from stall to stall. Interestingly enough the vendors and their posts all stood out from each other, some plain and wooden, others graceful and shimmering as if made from marble and yet a few that seemed to blend in with how the Seelie roaming were dressed.

The entire area has a patched and cobbled feel to it and Frisk felt nothing but amazed at how all the chaos seemed to blend together flawlessly.

“Does it always look like this?” She asked awed as a small burst of fire magic caught her attention, a short Seelie chucking deviously as the stall vendor yelled at them. Papyrus gave a simple shrug as he took her hand and guided her over to one of the more common stalls where he released her to pick up what looked like an apple.

“TODAY IS MARKET DAY, SOME OF THESE MERCHANTS ARE FROM THE OUTER ISLANDS SO NATURALLY THEY DRESS UP TO IMPRESS.” Frisk watched as Papyrus tossed the apple up once and bobbed it before deciding to set it back down and reach for another.

“So much to learn.” She muttered as a small creature, more closely accurate to what she’d imagined a fairy was, hovered over to lift a piece of fruit and drop a gold piece nearly as big as their head into the seller’s palm. Where had they pulled that large piece from?

“IT SEEMS THEY ARE LACKING THE TYPE OF APPLES I AM LOOKING FOR.” He grumbled forlornly. Frisk looked back over to peer down and could only feel a drop of sweat roll down the side of her face. They all looked the same, but were so clearly separated from each other. 

She decided it was better if she didn’t ask. The last thing Frisk wanted was to distract or annoy Papyrus while he was trying to figure out the grocery situation. Casting another probing and curious glance around she perked up as she spotted a stall not too far down selling broaches. 

Checking on Papyrus to see he’d started speaking to the vendor. Not wanting to interrupt him she gave a shrug and began to make her way over to the stall, muttering small apologizes to the smaller Seelie she passed and barely managing not to accidentally step on.

It was only then that she noticed the odd looks she was receiving.

Her heart began to speed up as she caught taller Seelie eyeing her from the corner of her eyes, their gazes mostly snapping away the moment she fully turned to look at them. Others though gave her mixed looks, both intrigued and...frightened.

Frisk stopped and carefully looked around her before looking back to make sure she could still see Papyrus. It was only the fact she could tell he was still talking that she felt secure enough to finish the rest of her walk. With slightly hurried steps she let out a breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding as soon as she made it to the broach table.

Instantly her eyes locked on a flower shaped one crusted in ivory and jade, the way the two colors twirled and blended seamlessly together causing her breath to hitch. Tentatively she reached a hand towards it but stopped as she spotted another one just outside her peripheral.

It was bone shaped and practically glowed in the morning light that shone down on it.

“Can I help you mage?” Frisk jolted at the slightly hostile tone and whipped her head up to a...giant bunny Seelie, a sunflower themed sunhat balanced precariously between two long and elegant purple ears currently twitching in agitation.

“Mage?” She questioned in confusion. The bunny offered her a dubious look.

“Yes, what else would you be as a human here? Honestly surprised you’re being allowed to roam without an escort.” She automatically thought of Papyrus and for some reason that made an unpleasant feeling settle in her chest. 

One she didn’t want to think about.

Frisk smiled as friendly as she could while gesturing to the broach. “I was wondering how much you’d like for this item?”

The Seelie glanced down at the broach wearily before snapping her attention back up to Frisk, her tone losing a bit of its sharpness in exchange for a hesitant drawl.

“Are you wanting to buy it?” Frisk feeling her nervousness build only nodded. 

After a moment of silence the bunny gently smiled and it was as if a switch had been flipped. Her whole body relaxed as she reached forward and picked up the bone, her large paws turning it over before holding it out to Frisk for inspection.

“Twelve gold pieces is what I’m asking, it’s handmade.” She was careful as she took it and ran the tips of her fingers over it a few times. It was solid and really sturdy, had enough weight behind it to tell of the dedication put into it. 

Excited Frisk handed the bone back and reached into the satchel for the bag Sans had given her, thoughts as to his reaction on seeing it only adding to her growing anticipation. With a huff she pulled out the bag and opened it, dropping the contents into her palm.

Her heart sunk.

There were ten gold pieces and two silver, not twelve. 

Dejected she let out a sigh and looked up to the bunny in remorse. “I’m sorry but I’m a bit short.” 

Something flickered in the vendors eyes, humor forming a smile mischievous and teasing on her face as she looked deliberately down at the broach. When she looked back up to Frisk her tone was too innocent sounding that it automatically sent Frisk’s guard up.

“...I can accept ten, granted you’re willing to accept a deal with me.” Frisk’s guard dropped. The bunny was offering her a discount essentially. Eager, Frisk asked, “What is it?” 

The Seelie shook her head and waved a finger. “That’s not how it works hun, you have to agree before I tell you what it is, law of assurance you know. But it’ll be small since you’re only short a little.” 

Frisk...was hesitant. 

First off law of assurance? Was she going to be asked to do something others wouldn’t be willing to? That’s certainly what it sounded like. But as she glance down to the broach all she could think about was Sans possibly grinning at her and throwing out a pun so terrible that Papyrus banned him from the dinner table again. 

She really wanted to get that as a gift for him.

It was just a small favor right? 

And it was at this point Papyrus realized his potential sister in law was missing. Narrowing his sockets as he paid the vendor he spun on his heel and looked around for the smaller human, letting out an audible gasp as he saw her tiny hand reaching out to shake the bunny Seelie’s own. 

Papyrus knew a deal forming when he saw one.

“FRISK!” He took off in a sprint, his loud voice drowning in the noise of the crowd as he weaved and dodged between people in a blind rush. Only to feel his soul freeze in his chest as Frisk shook the other Seelie’s hand right as he reached the table.

Frisk flinched at his sudden appearance but only jumped when the vendor’s hand quickly withdrew with a pleased humph. Frisk swallowed as she caught the deadpan Papyrus was giving her, his sockets clearly displeased.

“Uh…” He simply held up a hand.

“I SHALL BE HAVING A TALK WITH SANS ABOUT EDUCATING YOU LATER, FOR NOW LET’S SEE WHAT YOU JUST GOT US INVOLVED IN SHALL WE?” He didn’t like the withdrawn look Frisk gave him and retaliated by patting her shoulder and offering an awkwardly reassuring smile before facing the shopkeeper. 

“My Phoenix got away earlier today and I haven’t had time to go find her. I would like you to bring her back.” Papyrus let out a groan right as Frisk let out a surprised gasp. A phoenix? Those existed? 

And all Papyrus could think about was how it was a boring fetch quest. 

The worst kind of deal to take or wish to fulfill in his personal opinion. “DO YOU HAVE A MEANS OF TRACKING THE BIRD?” With little grace or preamble she handed over a strangle glass like object, slipping it easily into Frisk’s palm. It was perfectly oval and smooth, the flat surface shifting with smoke like texture across it. The texture flickered and quickly it shifted into a panning shot of a city.

Frisk became mesmerized as it swooped low over pearlescent type buildings covered in ivy and flowers, before turning in a ninety degree angle left where it coasted over a clear blue lake. Just as Frisk was starting to enjoy the view it faded back into smoky obscurity.

“AH, A SEEING MIRROR. APPEARS THE BIRD IS IN THE INNER PART OF THE CITY.” 

“Seeing Mirror?” The bunny Seelie spoke up.

“Objects usually tied to certain creatures or Seelie to allow you to view their locations. The magic is very specific and hard to craft. I’m not surprised a mage doesn’t know about it.” Papyrus faked a cough into his palm.

“YES WELL, WE SHOULD BE OFF. COME FRISK SOONER WE FINISH THIS THE SOONER WE CAN FINISH SHOPPING BEFORE NIGHTFALL.” 

~~

They’d been searching for three hours. 

While it had at first been amazing seeing the new sights and hearing the new sounds of the city proper Frisk was quickly growing uneasy and tired, a single glance at Papyrus said the same thing though he kept a focused eye on their surroundings.

She felt so guilty dragging him into this.

“Sorry Papyrus.” He didn’t respond at first as they slowed to a lazy stroll, keeping his sockets roaming between the mirror and the area until he gave a half heart ‘nyeh’ sound.

“I AM ONLY CURIOUS REALLY AS TO WHY WE’RE DOING THIS.” Frisk blushed and her tone was shy.

“I wanted to get something I thought Sans would like.” Papyrus stopped dead in his tracks and leveled a look at her. He was stunned. The idea of someone taking a deal from a complete stranger even a minor one was common yes, but for something as selfless as buying an unneeded item for a loved one?

He’d known right away when Sans had first brought her home that she was special if she’d caught his normally detached brother’s eye, had seen how easily Sans had lightened up more than he had in a few years the moment Frisk so much as entered a room. Even he felt more at ease and jovial at her presence.

But he hadn’t expected her to get wrapped up in something like this only for a present. 

Papyrus appreciated her so much more than he had before.

“THAT IS REALLY KIND OF YOU.” She smiled.

“Kind of you both to take me in.” Papyrus was about to make a witty retort before a sudden and loud caw, echoing like a bell interrupted him. They both looked up and Frisk’s golden eyes shot wide at the red tinted bird as the sunlight gave the red of its feathers a fire like quality.

“Is that…?”

“THE BIRD!” 

Like a gunshot it took off into the air and over a rooftop. Frisk wasn’t even thinking as she spotted a crate and rushed over, pulled herself over it and jumped up to the roof ledge where she dangled only a moment before vanishing from Papyrus’s sight. 

He went to follow, stepped on the crate, and let out a whine as it snapped beneath his foot. He stared at it in offence before shaking it off and eyeing the roof. Frisk was heading back towards the streets. With a grunt he turned and ran the way he thought they’d potentially be going.

Frisk was gasping from both strain and exhaustion as she thundered from roof to roof, her feet barely landing at the heel before she was lifting it again. A few times she almost tripped here and there, barely avoided taking down someone’s clothing line by ducking in the nick of time. 

She couldn’t take her eyes off the bird for even a moment or she feared she’d lose it. 

“EXCUSE ME! PARDON ME COMING THROUGH! TALL SKELETON COMING THROUGH!” The shouting of Papyrus’s voice drew her attention and she spared him a quick look, just enough to reassure herself she wouldn’t get lost before pushing herself even faster.

The bird flew as if it was the last thing it would do, it’s head even turning to almost glare at her over it’s large and glorious wingspan with majestic blue bitter irises. 

“C’mon don’t run! We’re not going to hurt you!” The bird apparently didn’t believe that and only gave a violent and curt snap of its wings, putting several more inches regrettably between itself and Frisk.

Then there was a gap.

Frisk made a noise as it victoriously and mockingly flew over it without pause. This was so much more than just trying to earn a broach now, the bird had in its own way fueled a fire in Frisk and she couldn’t have stopped even if she wanted to.

So many times in her life growing up she’d been called useless.

She wasn’t about to be called that again if she failed to make good on this deal.

Frisk jumped.

Papyrus pulled up short, his sockets going wide as Frisk leapt the gap, her hands flying out and cupping the bird and just managing to pull it to her chest...before her feet touched down on a building that didn’t have a roof on top.

“FRISK!” He rushed forward, slid sideways and pushed into the buildings doorway right as both Frisk and the bird let out a scream. The world rushed by and she clutched the phoenix to her in a protective cradle as she braced for impact.

Papyrus dove and stretched his arms wide, his sockets lighting up as he desperately pushed blue magic to slow her decent and let out a happy cry only once her body landed in his arms with a grunt and hiss through clenched teeth.. 

They both panted as the shock of what had just happened settled in, both their holds tight and trembling. Frisk slowly started to chuckle and then broke into a loud laugh that had Papyrus frowning down at her.

“I DON’T SEE WHAT YOU FIND FUNNY FRISK.” Her humor only got louder and he felt his frown gradually fall as she pressed her forehead into his chest, noticeable tears of relief in the corner of her eyes as she pulled back to look up at him.

“I thought I was a goner for a second there! If you hadn’t moved so quickly I could’ve been really hurt, Thank you!” Papyrus felt his magic flare across his skull in a blush before finally joining in her laughter. His incredulousness at the whole situation made him realize just how much she had in common with his brother.

Both of them obviously had a habit for getting into trouble, now he had two to look out for.

“BUT OF COURSE I’LL ALWAYS BE HERE TO CATCH YOU IF YOU NEED IT! NOW HOW ABOUT WE GO RETURN THE ANNOYING BIRD AND GET HOME BEFORE SANS FLIES OFF THE HANDLE AT OUR ABSENCE.” Frisk’s laughter petered out into a playful snort as he proceeded to carry her all the way to the merchant's stall. She decided not to point out how easily he’d let two jokes slip into his words.

~~

Sans stared at the both of them silently, his sockets narrowed in concern at how they were both covered head to toe in dirt; Frisk’s hair tangled and standing on end and his normally immaculate brother’s clothing thoroughly rumpled and even torn at the left sleeve.

They both looked as if they’d gone a few rounds with an angry Gwyllion.

“been busy?” He asked as he widened a socket at them, the impression of a raised brow going unnoticed as Papyrus spoke up too evenly.

“NEXT TIME WE GO OUT I SUGGEST YOU GIVE FRISK SOME MORE THAN JUST THE BARE MINIMUM FOR CURRENCY.” Sans looked over to the human awkwardly as she blankly looked at him.

“I think now might be a good time to go over what the rules are here.” He was preparing to speak but the words died as Frisk suddenly stepped forward and smiled, reaching into her satchel to pull out a bone shaped broach.

Sans felt his soul give a hard thrum as she held it out to him, and in his shock, his happy surprise he looked up to her with silent question as if he couldn’t believe she’d gotten him something. Frisk chuckled.

“I saw it and thought of you.” Sans’s eyelights hazed lovingly and Papyrus himself almost blushed at the air of affection suddenly around the both of them.

Until Sans ruined it. “bit bonely without me?” 

While Frisk and Sans both let out uproarious laughter, leaning into and hugging the other Papyrus frowned, painfully unamused and a bit let down by how quickly the mood shifted.

 “I’M GOING TO GO SHOWER.” He grumbled as he walked past them, his tone dull but smile wide with happiness and contentment.

[ralexsol]

On the Subject of Underverse S2

You read that correctly: this is a post about one of the greatest shows ever created, the Undertale animated series Underverse, written/animated by @jakei95​. I have a lot of theories that I’ve been pulling together ever since I watched both Underverse and Xtale (the Underverse prequel series). Maybe one or two have no basis in anything, but for some reason they popped into my head and I’ll stick by them until they’re proven incorrect. I will discuss the possibility of a Geno/Ink fight, Fresh!Ink, XI (you’ll definitely want to read their section!), and the fates of many different characters. This is quite the long post, so buckle up for a long ride.

Let’s begin!

GENO/INK FIGHT:

I’m putting this theory first because it is the least important. At some point in time, I somehow got it into my head that there is supposedly going to be a fight between Geno and Ink. I have no idea where I heard about this, and when I searched for any specific videos or posts about the subject, I found nothing. But I personally think a fight scene between Geno and Ink would be pretty cool, so I’m adding this in here.

FRESK!INK’S EXISTANCE:

This is a more relevant theory. Ever since Jakei announced that Fresh!Ink would be a part of Underverse, I have wondered how he would be incorporated. I don’t know if she means for him to be in the future “Beach Episode” or something more serious. (Of course, I know almost nothing about this supposed “Beach Episode”, which is apparently when Epic!Sans will be showing up, so I really wouldn’t know.) But there is an important thing to remember: Ink and Fresh made a deal in the first season.

Ever since I saw this Underverse - Xtra Scene 2, I have wondered what this “prize” could possibly be. What was Ink’s side of the deal? What did he promise Fresh? Hmm... maybe a new body to take over?

Ink’s body doesn’t have a SOUL- that’s basic “Undertale AU Knowledge 101″. What does this have to do in regards to Fresh? To my best knowledge, the actual parasitic creature True!Fresh feeds off the souls of other creatures to survive. In fact, his soul-feeding would kill his victims if he stayed long enough in one body, but he likes to play it safe and leave his victims alive in case he needs to use their body again. But he wouldn’t need to do this with Ink. Because of Ink’s SOULless nature, Fresh could theoretically feed off his body forever. Some might object that since Ink doesn’t have a SOUL, Fresh wouldn’t be able to feed off him. But then how does Fresh!Ink exist?

So, what was their deal? Fresh watches over the Xtale AU while Ink is gone, and after Cross and X!Chara are taken care of, Ink comes back and lets Fresh take over his body for a little while. There may be something else I’m missing, but the pieces seem to make sense.

XI’S PURPOSE:

For those of you who don’t know who XI is, I suggest you watch this video about Jakei’s Overwrite merch. This is when the character of XI was introduced to us, back on good ol’ April 1st, 2019. Haha, yes, the joke character of XI- funny April Fool’s Day video, a good laugh for everyone. Jakei has made a few comics about XI since then, but overall, XI hasn’t been involved in Xtale or Underverse so far. That has never sat right with me, and I’ve always thought there would be something more to him. I was proven absolutely correct when Xtale - The Movie came out. But before we discuss the little extra scene tagged onto the end of that video, I would like to point out some very interesting facts about XI.

On October 6th, 2019, Jakei posted a traditional speedart. Obviously, the art is gorgeous like always and every time I watch it I wonder if I will ever get to the level of skill she is at. But besides that, there is a very important aspect about this video. In the speedart, Jakei drew two pictures: one of X!Chara and X!Frisk fighting, and one of XI. In XI’s picture, they are depicted in full armor with a magical purple sword & shield.

Hmmm... I wonder who this could possible resemble?

Every time XI is shown, whether it be in comics or artwork, their bangs hang over their eyes. Their armor looks exactly like Kris’s from Deltarune. Heck, they both use a sword and a shield! What does this mean? XI is X!Kris. There is no way to deny this. This is why they are X!Chara’s and X!Frisk’s little sibling. I would also like to point out XI’s silver oval locket. I find it interesting how he has a different piece of jewelry from everyone else- all other important characters in Xtale have a matching golden heart locket. Does XI also have people he has given copies of this necklace to? Perhaps X!Susie and X!Ralsei, if they exist? But XI being X!Kris is only the beginning of this theory. Remember how I mentioned Xtale - The Movie earlier? Take a look at this picture.

This is a five-second frame pegged at the very end of the video, after an entry written in wingdings by Mister XGaster himself. The message is as follows:

Entry Number Eleven: As clear as a reflection in a mirror, I have found the most perfect projection of forbidden visions. Get ready. Your time is coming.

Okay, just whoa. Not only is the entry #11, but the person standing there is XI. Oh, and let’s take a closer look at what they’re holding in their hand.

I knew that silver locket was going to be important. There is no way that XI is not going to play a major part in either Underverse S2 or hmm... maybe a spin-off about the Xtale versions of Deltarune characters? To my knowledge, Jakei has not said anything about her plans after she finishes Underverse. She has her Metadora project, and I am aware that her husband @nyxtheshield​ is planning out his own Undertale series- someone will need to animate that, and I’m sure she would be able and willing to do the job. She has stated that there will be no seasons of Underverse after S2, and the finale will be 1.0. But that doesn’t mean she won’t make a new series. If she does, will it be about all the Deltarune characters? Will the other Xtale characters show up at certain points in it? Will XGaster play a large part in it? There is no way to know, as the idea of a new show is simply drawn from that there may not be enough time in S2 to fully expand what XI is.

In any case, XGaster states in the entry that “your time is coming”. This could either reference a new show or XI’s appearance in Underverse. I find it extremely interesting how XGaster words his message. “The most perfect projection of forbidden visions.” What does that mean exactly? XGaster has seen something in one of his many visions, obviously. The most perfect image of prohibited sights. XI is a person that stands for something that should not be allowed to exist. That makes sense- XGaster, a man, somehow got pregnant and birthed them, as shown in the Overwrite merch video. The “forbidden visions” might imply that he has seen something quite “cursed”, as us modern Internet-users would say. But then he tells this projection to get ready, because their time is coming. XGaster is telling XI to prepare themself. This just proves that XI and XGaster are tied together very closely, and that if XI does get their own series with X!Ralsei and X!Susie, XGaster will be involved.

Whew! That’s a lot of information to take in all at once. This was the big “theory” I wanted to discuss, so now we will move on to the different fates I believe may befall some of our beloved characters.

INK, FOR GOOD OR FOR WORSE?:

Ah, Ink. One of the true protagonists of Underverse. Remember: a protagonist is not necessarily a hero, just one of the leading characters. It has been seen that his story arc is the most important throughout the entire story. He is the one that inspired XGaster. He is the one that made XGaster’s plan succeed. And he very well might be the one to make it fail.

Wait, you’re asking me. I thought he was on XGaster’s side? What do you mean he will make it fail?

I didn’t want to address whether Ink was going to stick with XGaster or flip until a certain song was posted by Nyx two days ago on December 5th, “Soulless Heart”. If you haven’t listened to it yet, go ahead and click that link because the song is beautiful and absolutely necessary to continue on with this theory! The song is the Underverse 0.5 Ending Theme, and guess who it’s about? You guessed it, our good old buddy chum pal Ink. I’ve been listening to it on repeat since it came out, and it really is incredible. (Nyx, if you’re somehow reading this, I would like to personally congratulate you, because not only is the music amazing but mwah! Your voice is a joy, and I would not have any other singer do the vocals.) But the most important thing about the song is the lyrics. Here’s the first verse.

How long have I been longing

to be free and not broken

in this ocean of hollowness?

I don’t want to be forgotten.

Instantly, the lyrics hit you hard. This is about Ink, though, so you can’t expect anything less. Essentially, the song is about the emptiness that Ink feels without a SOUL. This goes along with one of his main aspects in Underverse. The only reason why he worked with XGaster to make sure XGaster’s game worked was so he could feel more emotions. As a chaotic neutral character, Ink literally only cares about himself and his personal goals. But what is interesting about this song is that he addresses the pain he has caused.

Sacrificial lambs

laid upon my path

now are broken worlds

killed by senseless wrath.

Ink knows that he has hurt people. I mean, in the present timeline when 0.5 is to be set, Ink’s actions just caused Error to literally “pull the plug” and destroy all the AUs. (Although, how many AUs were actually destroyed is impossible to determine, because there are still multiple Sanses that will be incorporated into S2 that were residing in their AUs at the time of their supposed destruction.) Ink knows that this is his fault. And now that XGaster has won, Ink will be receiving all those emotions he wanted! In the S2 teaser, which was released on the original Underverse 0.5 release date (the episode was unfortunately delayed due to issues with Nyx’s distributor, RouteNote), shows something very important.

Look at those vials in his hand. Those aren’t just colored vials. Well, they are, but their colors are especially important. Look at their specific colors: orange, yellow, and amber. Previously, Ink’s vials have been seen as very straightforward: roy g biv, that sort of thing.

You have one or maybe two variations, although in this picture there seems to be about four different aqua vials. But there certainly isn’t an amber vial. This goes to show that XGaster followed through on his promise, and Ink has a lot more variations in his color-coded emotion vials. The obvious conclusion from this is that he can feel a lot more things than he thought was possible- including guilt. With his newfound feelings, he could realize that what he did wasn’t just wrong, it was horrible. He might start to blame himself for getting all the AUs destroyed, which in turn might result in a betrayal of XGaster. With his emotions, he would become a real good person. But ultimately, without XGaster’s Overwrite abilities, Ink’s new emotions will fade and he will return to be the same old Ink as before. He will no longer understand why he sacrificed his emotions, and the cycle will start anew. Ink will never be truly happy, because being happy will always mean the suffering of others.

Or, Ink will stick with XGaster. It would be the same fate, after all; if the heroes defeat XGaster, Ink will still lose those emotions. This, though, might leave him feeling bitter and even more willing to do anything to get what he wants, which could potentially lead to him becoming a real villain. Perhaps XGaster isn’t the final boss of Underverse. Maybe the one to start everything will be the one to finish everything.

XGASTER AND UT!GASTER:

This wouldn’t be a real theory post without discussing our favorite fanfiction writer, would it? And yes, XGaster is literally a fanfiction writer. He has symptoms of OCD concerning the world-building of his universe and he just loves to add as much angst as humanly (or monsterly) possible. It just so happens that he lives in his own created universe, so his creations have the pleasurable chance at getting revenge.

Now, there are obviously two ways that Underverse can go: XGaster succeeds, or XGaster fails. This doesn’t necessarily mean that this will be the ending of S2. As I mentioned above, perhaps XGaster will be defeated at the end of 0.9 and 1.0 will be about everyone trying to stop Ink from taking the Overwrite SOUL for his own, I don’t know. In any case, I don’t really have anything to discuss about XGaster specifically, but I am pretty sure I know what his last scene will be if he happens to lose.

It is shown in the Underverse S2 Prologue - Owners that XGaster and UT!Gaster spent a lot of time together in the Void between the events of Xtale and Underverse. Not only do they hold an entire conversation together in Owners, but in Underverse 0.1 when Sans is hit in the head with a ball, he has a vision of the two of them standing together.

In XGaster’s and UT!Gaster’s conversation in Owners, UT!Gaster tells XGaster that he will fail in his quest for perfection. XGaster brushes him off because he’s an egotistical prick, yadda yadda. But this conversation is important because I believe it will parallel the ending of XGaster’s quest. In the end, UT!Gaster will approach his old Void-buddy and tell him to just give up on his pointless venture. XGaster will turn to dust after saying something like, “I will never give up”, and then we have Ink going on a rampage. That’s pretty much all I have to say on them, but I thought it would be worth adding.

DREAM AND NIGHTMARE:

Lastly, we have the brothers. As with XGaster and UT!Gaster, I don’t have much to add with them. But I do believe they will both play a major role in S2. They will be the overseers of the battle to come. Out of all the characters in the Undertale fandom, they are the most omnipotent. They are the protectors of the Tree of Feelings, which is one of three trees to give the Multiverse life. In Underverse 0.4, when X!Chara accused Nightmare of “watching us all this time as if we were part of a show”, Nightmare responded by saying:

Of course, Nightmare mostly means himself, Error, and Ink. Dream is much more active in helping people be happy, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t on the same god-tier level as his brother. Dream could sit back and watch the world tick, but he chooses not to because that goes against his morals.

In other words, Dream and Nightmare will probably affect the outcome of Underverse more than any other characters. They’re both pissed about what Error did: all those people that Dream cared about were murdered, and Nightmare can no longer generate negative feelings from innocents. They both have invested interest in this Multiverse war now, and their powers will certainly come to the forefront.

I believe that at the end of the story, the Multiverse will essentially go back to the exact way it was before Xtale was invented. XGaster will be dead, the Xtale characters will be put back in their AU, the other AUs will be restored, and at the end of it all, Dream and Nightmare will be once again pitted against one another. We may even see an alliance between them during Underverse S2 to stop XGaster, but afterwards, they will reestablish their rivalry. Unless the Omega Timeline comes into play, which it very well might, I don’t see the two brothers reconciling.

CONCLUSION:

Thank you everyone who took the agonizingly long time to read this! I hope this shed some light on certain characters (especially XI) and encourages to make some of your own theories. Stay safe and good night!

[franstastic-ideas]

Reali-tea Is the Most Difficult Blend to Swallow

Yandere Altertale AU -  Frisk was so lucky to have been found by Sans during her time of need, at least, that’s what she had thought at first. The skeleton has been so kind, opening up his home to her, cooking meals for just the two of them, brewing her tea… and all that he asks for in return is the joy of her company. She was happy to oblige him that much, as Sans seemed to give off the impression to her of being lonely for some reason. But little did Frisk know and was soon to discover, he’s far more emotionally needy than she ever could have imagined…

Word Count: 22,220

Warnings: Several instances of yandere behavior. Pretty self-explanatory.

Also, my interpretation of the Altertale universe is probably extremely different than what’s been established in the original creator’s canon. For instance, even though they don’t appear in this story, Asgore and Toriel are apparently supposed to be siblings, but should they ever appear in Yandere Altertale, they’ll be an unrelated happily married couple.

Some of the other changes I’ve made are spoilers until the reader has finished this fic, and thus can’t be mentioned.

The creator of Yandere Altertale is @semisolidmind, so if you like this story, then make sure to send semi some appreciation and love!

And finally, Happy Early Birthday @lostmypotatoes! I was gonna wait until the 10th, but since you insisted that I post it now, you and everybody else are getting this fic six days early! Enjoy!

Frisk didn’t know how long it had been since she fell, nor how deep underground she had fallen, but what she was aware of was – she couldn’t move.

Her unintentional descent into the cavern beneath the mountain had been a long one, and it was honestly a strange sort of miracle in itself that she managed to somehow survive the impact. The bed of buttercups beneath her had cushioned her fall, but she couldn’t move. Frisk attempted to push herself up into a sitting position before a sharp pain coursed through her right leg as well as her left arm, returning the girl to her previous arrangement of lying with her back pressed against the flowers.

Both limbs were broken, she acknowledged, and that was when the panic truly began to set in.

Frisk was down here, alone in an empty cavern, injured and immobile, and this place was going to be her grave.

Nobody knew where she was, currently.

Not that anyone would come for her if her location was made known, she thought to herself with a grief-laden sigh.

“Howdy!” A cheery voice suddenly called out to her from somewhere beyond her vision, catching Frisk’s attention immediately.

“H-Hello…?” She replied weakly, trying to turn her body in the direction she had heard the greeting come from.

Just as she succeeded in turning her head, out of the corner of her eye, Frisk saw a flower similar in appearance to yet significantly larger than the others that she was absolutely certain wasn’t there before looming over her.

And even more concerning was; this particular flower had a face.

The talking flower stared down at her with beady black eyes and a cartoonishly wide dimpled smile. Frisk immediately came to the conclusion that she must have also hit her head when she had fallen, and this happy little plant was an adorable hallucination that manifested from her damaged mind, aiming to bring her comfort and security in what was to be her final moments. However, the flower then leaned even closer towards her, and that was when she felt the texture of his leaves brush over her skin when the motile plant apparently decided to poke her nose, proving that he was made of solid matter.

“Stop staring at me like that – didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

“I-I’m sorry! I wasn’t trying to be rude! I thought you were a hallucination…”

“Nope. I’m definitely real.” He winked and stuck out his tongue, an organ that he did in fact prove to possess through this little gesture. “I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower! And it seems to me that you took quite the fall there! You look like you could use some help.”

“Yes, I would really appreciate it!” She pushed aside the shock of discovering a talking flower living in a remote cavern underground for the moment; she tried to move once more, even just a short distance, but her efforts once again proved to be unsuccessful. “I’m sure I’ve broken a few bones; in one leg and one arm. I’m completely immobile…”

“Oh, that’s too bad…” Flowey began to look around the surrounding area, holding both of his leafy appendages up to his squinting eyes as if they were binoculars. “And it looks like the smiley trashbag is nowhere to be found too.”

“Smiley… trashbag…?” Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. Was there someone else that lived in this cavern as well? What did they look like? Were they a talking flower too, or something else entirely? Either way, it seemed her photosynthesizing pal wasn’t too fond of this other person, if the designated nickname was all she had to go by. Even so, Flowey still spoke of them in a continued cheery tone and the smile on his face hadn’t slipped by even the smallest of degrees.

“He could help you if he were here, but the worthless pile of bones is probably somewhere sleeping; dead to the world. Your bad luck just keeps multiplying like garden weeds, doesn’t it?” He continued with a sigh, shaking his head. “Oh well… I guess little ‘ol me will have to do…”

Before Frisk could go about questioning him of how he might possibly do that, she felt the ground around her begin to suddenly shift and tear. It seemed her petaled friend could also control the vines that bound him to the earth, because soon they were wrapping around her body, far bigger than she would have imagined them to be and lifting her into the air with ease.

She was about to ask Flowey what his plan was from here – did he intend to deliver her to this other person he previously mentioned? Or was he going to extend his vines that seemed to have no visible end upwards and return her to the surface? But Frisk didn’t get to ponder Flowey’s available options for too long before she was abruptly released from his hold and sent hurtling towards the ground again. She fell with a loud thud, but this time there wasn’t anything below her to soften the impact.

At her collision she heard the sound of something snapping coming from her own body, and an entirely new wave of pain flooded her senses.

“Oopsie! How clumsy of me!” Flowey announced, his numerous vines immediately swarming her once again before she could say anything, their grip on her being far less gentle than they had been previously. “I won’t drop you again – I promise.”

She wiggled in the vines’ hold futilely, her fight or flight instincts beginning to kick in as they grew tighter and tighter around her limbs and the rest of her body in an almost crushing hold. Frisk found herself being jerked towards Flowey until she was dangling upside down in front of his smiling face, which now looked nothing but ominous when it had just moments ago seemed friendly and helpful.

“What’s the matter, human? Don’t you trust me?” He didn’t allow her the opportunity to answer before his expression turned nightmarish, his mouth morphing into a malevolent grin that sported far too many teeth than the normal maw. “You shouldn’t… not me, or anyone else down here for that matter. Especially not me. And do you know why…?”

His whispery voice deepened to a demonic growl.

“Because in this world, i t ‘ s  k i l l  o r  b e  k i l l e d...”

He then flung Frisk against the wall of the cavern by her ankle. She barely had time to let out a wild scream of fright and agony before he slammed her face first into the ground once again, but he still wouldn’t release her, his vines still tightly wrapped around her body and placing a needless amount of pressure on her broken limbs.

“See, I kept my promise!” He cackled, his voice having returned to that higher pitched disarmingly cutesy one he had used to lure her in previously, nearly singing as he proclaimed, “I said I wouldn’t drop you, and I didn’t~!”

Frisk twitched and trembled on the cave floor, suffering and writhing. She was about to die, that much she was certain of. If not from the injuries she had already sustained, then from whatever it was Flowey intended to do with her next. She had already resigned herself to her fate before she had encountered this vile sentient plant, but this wasn’t at all how she had expected her life to end. The terror of it all coming to an abrupt yet drawn-out end at the hands of an unforeseen aggressor had paralyzed her further than before, despair welling up within her SOUL.

But before she could let this despair swallow her up completely, before Flowey could snatch her up once more and continue his abuse, she heard a loud, grotesque shriek. It echoed and bounced along the walls of the cave long after the actual scream had ended, sounding more horrendous than anything Frisk could recall ever having heard before in her life. Frisk couldn’t turn around to see just who had screamed, but she didn’t need to – it wasn’t necessary.

It was Flowey, and it sounded as though he were being put through as much pain and agony as she had been forced to endure.

She then heard another voice.

“i told you before - if i ever caught you here again, weed, you’d be in for a bad time.”

It was deep, dark, and dangerous; unlike anything she had ever heard before. Not even the raging waters of the ocean during a storm or the tempestuous winds of a cyclone could hold a candle to the pure unbridled fury she could sense lying beneath his tone, which was struggling to seem casual and relaxed but instead sounded perfervidly strained.

“the fact that you’re here must mean you were ready for what was going to happen. you only have yourself to blame for this.”

Frisk braced herself for another hideous scream from Flowey; she would have covered her ears in preparation, if only she could move her arms – she was certain that they were now both rendered immovable.

“Ah, ah, ah, trash bag.” Flowey tutted, but his labored breathing indicated that speaking was an incredibly strenuous task for him at the moment. “Aren’t you worried about the safety of the human…? Start a fight with me and there’s no telling what’ll happen! And you… you can’t kill me. You don’t have the guts for it, haha! It’s against your nature…”

Flowey was right – fighting and killing was against his nature, and he wasn’t certain if he could ever bring himself to terminate someone even as vile to the core as Flowey, even if it was for the sake of another.

And he was also correct in stating his prioritized interest in the wellbeing of the human; he cared far more about seeing that she was taken care of and her injuries tended to than settling a score with this loathsome creature without a soul that preyed on the naïveté of the fallen.

“……leave. now.”

“I was about to anyway, even if you hadn’t come along.” He sneered. “Toys aren’t any fun to play with when they’re broken, and this one’s juuuust about fallen apart. If you’d come just one minute later…”

This other person seemed to be ignoring Flowey’s commentary, or at the very least was trying to. Frisk felt herself being turned over so she was no longer lying face down, and the first thing that came into her immediate vision was Flowey lingering a short distance away; a pointed bone was stabbed through the middle of his stem like a skewer, and a thin translucent green liquid, chlorophyll she surmised, oozed out of the gaping wound it had created.

But the second thing she became conscious of was, the person now holding her was a skeleton. He was staring down at her with pitch black eye sockets and a wide unsettling grin, and the little amount of light that fluttered down from the surface above the two only enhanced the ominousness of his features in her eyes.

She let out an alarmed cry and instantly began twisting and turning as much as her weakened body would allow to escape his hold, which he struggled to maintain.

“Hahahaha! Look at her! She’s horrified by you!” Flowey cawed as he began his retreat, his vines and stem slowly sinking into the earth. “You fool… Humans will always despise monsters. You remember that when you’re at the mercy of this one and it has none to spare…”

The robed skeleton payed him no mind, his focus centering on convincing the human girl in front of him that he meant her no harm. But Flowey had already left a ghastly first impression on Frisk that wouldn’t be easily reversed; she had seen his hostile behavior as a preview for what the rest of the inhabitants of the Underground must be like, and the nasty little buttercup had only damaged this view further with the use of the word ‘monster’, the robed skeleton deduced.

Still, he refused to give up and abandon her, even if she insisted upon it.

“No… No! Get away from me!” She shrunk away from him, beginning to sob hysterically. “Just leave me alone! Please!”

“human, i need you to listen – i know you’re scared and in a lot of pain, but i’m just trying to help yo-”

“I’ve had enough ‘help’! Just go back to wherever it was you came from! Please… Please don’t hurt me…”

He inhaled sharply through his nasal cavity. He ceased any and all efforts in explaining himself or his actions. Any attempts at clarification would only be wasting precious time at this rate – if he didn’t act soon, then her condition would only worsen.

He retrieved a vial from a well concealed pocket in his robe, the liquid inside being a reddish-brown color in the light. Removing the cork, he then tilted it towards her mouth, tapping the lid against her lips and silently urging her to drink from it.

She resisted him, fighting through the pain of using both broken arms to push and smack against his chest in protest. The repeated pounding of her fists at his ribcage did little but illicit a short, stilted grunt from him, unperturbed entirely by the onslaught. When she continued to struggle despite his attempts at remaining pleasant and civil, his patience with her began to thin.

“h u m a n.” His voice abruptly deepened further to a stern growl, causing her to immediately still.

Frisk let out a surprised, uncontrollable whimper, her mouth opening just slightly as she did so. He took this opportunity to slip the vialed liquid past her lips, then swiftly tipped her head backwards so she swallowed it.

The effect was almost immediate. Her eyelids began to droop and every sensation in her body began to fade. The only thing that was left remaining was the fear she felt towards the robed skeleton. He lifted her up into his arms, gently and without a word, then began walking to somewhere further in the cavern.

“That vial… was that poison…?” Frisk was struggling to remain conscious. “…Am I dying?”

“no, pumpkin. you’re not dying.” He cooed softly, leaning down to nuzzle the top of her head. “if anything, i’m trying to keep that from happening.”

She grew quiet and still, and for a moment he thought that she must have succumbed to what was in the vial he had given her. But a minute later, he heard her weakly question,

“Where… where are you taking me?”

Her voice sounded so small, so scared…

“somewhere safe, where i can take care of you. get you the help you need.” He felt her flinch at the word ‘help’.

 That awful, wretched flower…

 “Please don’t hurt me…” She shuddered in his arms.

 “i won’t.” He asserted, his voice low.

 “Promise me you won’t.” She said with such desperation that it made his SOUL ache with fierce pangs of pity for her current condition.

 He hesitated.

 But only for a second before he solemnly replied, “i promise.”

 His oath sounded so sincere.

 “now get some sleep, human. i know you’ve gotta be tired.” The skeleton cradled her closer to his sturdy build with large, strong arms in a manner that Frisk would almost consider to be protective.

 Frisk wanted to take his words at face value, to earnestly believe that he held no ill will towards her - but if he did indeed intend to harm her, then there was little she could do about it now.

 Her heavy eyelids shut, and she fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 When Frisk finally awoke, she once again was unaware of how much time had passed since blacking out, but she did know that her body felt immeasurably heavy – almost certainly an aftereffect of whatever was in that liquid the skeleton had fed her. She could barely even lift her head, the properties of that concoction were so strong. She was every bit as immobile as when she first fell into the cavern, the only difference being that thankfully, Frisk wasn’t in any pain.

 Her limbs were wrapped up in bandages, she discovered, when she finally accomplished the simple task of turning her head to the side. They seemed professional, as expertly done as the work from any doctor found in a hospital. Oddly, her dressings were tied together with little white bows in several places – there was no practical or particular cause for her caretaker to have arrayed them this way, if only to amuse her when she awoke.

 Frisk spent the next few minutes taking in her new surroundings; she was laying on a soft, cushy single bed that was coincidentally just her size, not too big or too small for her height. The sheets were crisp and clean, and atop them was a quilt that appeared to be hand-knitted, with white and light blue hearts and bones scattered across the fabric’s design displayed in an elaborate pattern. She didn’t know much about knitting, but it must have taken a great amount of patience and skill from its weaver to have created such an ornate duvet. Every stitch that went into the needlework was without flaw; precise in its arrangement and absolutely beautiful.

 Laying next to her was… a stuffed animal, of some sort. Frisk wouldn’t be sure how to recount the thing’s appearance if someone asked her to. Its body was vaguely humanoid and without color, a pale white, but that was as far as she could get in her mental description of the toy. Those big black button eyes bore into her relentlessly, and even though it appeared to be just a child’s plaything in every single way, she couldn’t deny that its constant gaze unnerved her just slightly. Once again, there was no other conceivable reason why it would be present at her bedside other than to bring her some comfort or cheer.

 To the left and on the floor was a toy chest a short distance away, as well as a cabinet for clothes. That was as much as Frisk could make out of the rest of the room – there was a lamp in the corner of the room, but it had been turned off out of concern of it disturbing her sleep had it been left on. The remainder of the room was plunged into darkness, but Frisk did catch a small sliver of light slipping through the door, which was opened just a crack.

 Just as she turned her attention towards it, the door began to slowly creak open and the golden light outside from the hallway flooded into the small room. A skull then popped into her view, belonging to the skeleton that had carried her off earlier. His white eyelights were focused on her bedridden form, seeming concerned, or perhaps that was a trick from the combination of light and shadow playing with her eyes?

 But as he stepped towards her, there was something about him that did make the skeleton seem far less sinister to her compared to before. Maybe it was the small surprised gasp that fell from his mouth, or the way his eye sockets widened and the white spheres within them shrunk, or even how the grin on his face slipped as a faint blue blush spread over his cheekbones when he saw Frisk’s head suddenly turn to face his direction.

 The two stared at each other in silence for several moments before he managed to find his voice.

 “i… thought you were still asleep.” He tugged nervously at the ends of his sleeves. “…how long have you been awake for?”

 “Not long. Just a few minutes, I think.” Frisk answered cautiously, still wary of him and his intentions. “…How long have I been asleep?”

 “about twenty-four hours? i think?” His phalanges scratched at the back of his skull. “i didn’t really pay any attention to the clock when i got back. i was too preoccupied with getting you to bed and seeing that your broken limbs were wrapped up to think about the passage of time.”

 “If I slept for that long, then why do I still feel tired?” She questioned irritably. He laughed at her sour expression.

 “that’s all thanks to the medicine i gave you earlier. it does what its supposed to well, but the stuff will really leave you out of commission if you aren’t already. that’s why i save it for emergencies like yours.”

 “That stuff in the vial was medicine?” The girl pondered aloud – it hadn’t tasted like medicine. Thinking back on it, the liquid had tasted rather pleasant…

 “yeah, but it was also tea. chamomile and honey, actually. i blended the two together and made the medicine practically flavorless on the tongue so it’d be easier on the person that had to drink it. why would anybody want to swallow something that tastes bad? even adults don’t wanna do that, am i right?”

 Yet again, another allegedly kindhearted gesture that served no other viable purpose unless the purpose was kindheartedness in itself.

 Frisk frowned, studying the lumbering skeleton closely. “…Why?”

 “why what…?” He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression showing blatant confusion.

 “Why did you bring me here?”

 “because you needed to get those broken limbs of yours wrapped up, and this was the only place i could take you to do that safely-”

 “No, I mean… why help me at all? Aren’t you a monster?”

 He recoiled at her harshened tone and averted his gaze, smiling sheepishly at nothing in particular. “yeah… i can understand why you’d have some doubts about me. in your human fairytales and legends, monsters are the bad guys. they do horrible, unspeakable things to men, women, and children alike without remorse. …but i’m not that kind of monster. i… i want to help and protect any humans that fall into the underground that i come across. that’s why i’m here.”

 Frisk bit her bottom lip. Guilt began to bubble away in her stomach and gradually rose up to her chest, her heart giving a dull aching thump at his appearance – yes, he was still smiling, but it was incredibly strained, undeniably forced. His shoulders were slumped heavily as well. Her insensitive remark had definitely hurt him.

 “I… I’m sorry. A lot has happened, and I’m still very, very confused. About a lot of things.” She made an effort to explain, his large droopy eye sockets and enlarged white pupils appearing less and less menacing to her and increasingly more melancholy as the seconds ticked by. “But that still isn’t an excuse for treating someone badly for something that’s beyond their control; their race, what they are. Especially when they’re just trying their best to help someone that’s hurt. It’s just… I thought for sure that you were going to…”

 “no, no, i… i understand completely. i get it; why you’d react this way.” Even now, he, the offended, was speaking out in defense of her actions. “if you weren’t at least a little bit suspicious of me after what happened back there, then i’d be more concerned than i am already. but… maybe i could clear up some of that confusion, if you’d let me? i’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions right now that need some answering.”

 “I would like that very much.” She replied, having come to the quiet conclusion that if he held any interest in bringing harm to her, then he likely would have done so while she was unconscious.

 …Unless he wanted her awake whenever the robed skeleton chose to unveil and carry out his diabolical plot - for the sole purpose of the cruel thrill that came from it. After all, following her falling into the underground, she didn’t know how long that deceivingly friendly talking flower had been there either. Right next to her unconscious body. Staring at her in silence. Just waiting for her to wake up…

 Frisk decided she would at least allow the skeleton the opportunity to explain himself and answer her questions, but he still hasn’t earned her trust.

 Not yet.

 The stranger walked over towards and reached into the darkness of the lower left corner of the area and pulled out a chair, a chair that curiously seemed to have been built just right for her size, then dragged it to the center of the room and a few feet away from the bed. He eased into it carefully, perhaps out of concern for its thin legs possibly breaking underneath the weight of his heavyset build; the skeleton looked like a giant while seated in the much too tiny and undoubtedly uncomfortable wooden chair. He then folded his hands across his lap and flashed her a sheepish grin.

 He was making an honest attempt to seem relaxed, but his blatant nervous ticks; the occasional twitch perceptible at the corner of his mouth, slightly shrunken and quivering eye lights in his sockets, and him idly drumming his phalanges against his patella with a sort of skittishness that was difficult to describe wordlessly broke any charade of calmness that he may have been trying to convey.

 Just what reason would he have to be nervous in this situation? She was the one currently incapacitated, bed-ridden, and completely at the mercy of another. There was nothing she could do to him under these circumstances, even if her life depended on it.

 Frisk chose to ignore his tense state for the time being.

 “well, uh…” He twiddled the tips of his phalanges against each other, and for some reason, he was refusing to look at her in the face. “this is… kinda the part where you start asking questions…”

 “Alright… Telling me where I am right now might be a good place to start.”

 “you’re at my house. and this is the… guest bedroom.” His voice sounded oddly pained when he uttered those last few words, but he quickly continued onward before his discomfort became too apparent. “if you want me to be more specific, you’re in the ruins. not all that far from where you fell down. this part of the underground isn’t that spacious, at least, not compared to the rest.”

 From that snippet of conversation alone, Frisk was already made aware that the cavern stretched on much further than she initially thought, and that there was something more to this room than he was telling her. Those were details she could ponder later. Back to pressing the skeleton for more information.

 “You’re a monster, right? So is the rest of this cavern filled with monsters too? Are they all skeletons like you?”

 He actually laughed. It was a low, breathy chuckle. “in order: yes, for the third time, i am a monster. yes, there are other monsters besides me living down here. and no, the whole cavern isn’t occupied entirely by skeletons. there’s slime monsters, fire elemental monsters, spider monsters... and some that can’t even be classified. the word ‘monster’ is more like an umbrella term, i think - there’s a whole lot of variety in our race.”

 “Okay… Next line of business. Who are you? What’s your name? Or do you even have one?”

 He chuckled again, his shoulders bouncing up and down just slightly. “no, i have a name. it’s sans. sans the skeleton. but you probably already knew that last part. …why did you wanna know?”

 Rather than answer his own question, she responded with, “So, your name isn’t ‘smiley trashbag’?”

 “no. it’s not now, and it never was.” His tone flattened, as well as the usually ever-present grin on his face.

 “Well, I thought I might as well ask...” Frisk mumbled. “Flowey the flower isn’t a really creative name, either... I wondered if the only other living being I’ve come across since I fell down here was a victim of unfortunate naming too.”

 “no, that was just him being awful. as per usual.” Sans crossed his arms with a sigh and a soft scowl adorning his features. “nothing too out of the ordinary there...”

 ...Nothing out of the ordinary?

 “Another question; would you mind telling me what was up with that flower monster in the first place?”

 “tibia honest with ya... i don’t really know all that much about him myself.” He scratched the back of his skull with another self-conscious grin when she showed no visible reaction to his pun. “right, right... probably not the best time for jokes. anyway, that flower, he isn’t a monster; that’s as much as i know about him. he just... showed up one day in the ruins. he started bullying monsters, making threats, eating all the candy out of the candy bowl... and generally just making a complete nuisance of himself every time he showed up.”

 “He seemed like much more than a nuisance when it was me he was around...” Frisk recalled, the torturous sensation of being slung against the floor and wall of the cave in rapid succession still fresh in her mind and limbs, despite the numbing medicine she had been given – she suspected it was beginning to wear off now, but she couldn’t let her boney caretaker become conscious of this.

 If he knew she was in pain, he might send her to sleep again. And Frisk felt she couldn’t rest until all her present questions have been answered.

 “he didn’t stay just an annoying weed for long. after a while of being content with tormenting others, one day, he started trying to kill monsters. i was on my way back from checking for any fallen humans, like i do every day, when i caught him cornering a whimsun. whimsuns, they’re small, winged, fairy-like monsters. incredibly shy, and they never bother anybody because they’re afraid of being engaged in conflict. so even without knowing what kind of person he was already, i would have known right there that the attack was entirely unprovoked. that was... quite a while ago, when that happened, and i thought what i said to him then was enough to scare him out of the ruins for good.”

 If even a fraction of the anger in Sans’s voice had been present at that time compared to when he came to rescue her earlier, then Frisk wasn’t certain how Flowey hadn’t spontaneously wilted right then and there during either confrontation. He was either incredibly determined, or incredibly stupid to have come back again after that warning.

 “...but i couldn’t have been more wrong.” Sans appeared shamefaced, silently acknowledging that it was only by mere coincidence and sheer luck that he’d arrived in time to save her at all. “i guess he was just hiding this whole time, and biding his own time, waiting for when a human finally showed up...”

 “...Are humans supposed to be the enemies of monsters here, like you’re supposed to be for us on the surface?” She inquired a touch fearfully, still unsure of what intentions this skeleton may hold for her. “In this world, in the Underground, is it really kill or be killed?”

 “no. no, no, no, no... no.” He spoke quickly, his hands fluttering about anxiously, but the firm tone he spoke with didn’t match his frantic movements. “don’t let that insignificant weed be put in the position of the mouthpiece for the rest of the underground. what he wants is senseless violence, to see the world around him burn. i’d like you to forget as much as you can about him and anything he may have said to you, if at all possible.”

 “Being nearly mauled to death by a talking flower that first was pretending to help you is kind of a hard thing to push out of your memory entirely.”

 “i know... and i’m sorry. i should’ve got there sooner. then maybe this wouldn’t be as bad as it is now.” He stood up and was suddenly at her side in one fluid motion; he gently rested one hand on her broken and bandaged leg, the contact and sudden unexpected pressure against her injuries causing her entire body to flinch.

 He immediately removed his hand – at first, Sans thought that she just didn’t want him touching her, but the way her eyes clenched shut and her lips twisted into a grimace made him think differently.

 “...did-did that hurt? are you in pain right now?” When she wouldn’t answer, he gave her leg another experimental brush, the tips of his phalanges featherlight against her wounds as if to soothe them.

 As cautious as he was with his ministrations, even the slightest of touches was enough to make her cringe.

 “...and so i see the medicine i gave you has worn off.” He gazed at her sternly, his tone scolding. “and just how long were you planning on keeping this from me?”

 “For as long as I could.” She answered without any hesitation or shame.

 At hearing her bold and defiant response, he frowned in that way that managed to somehow tug at her heartstrings for the second instance without fail.

 “you still don’t trust me, do you...?”

 “No.” She didn’t know why admitting this to his face hurt as much as it did. “I don’t.”

 To her surprise, he didn’t appear frustrated or angry. He breathed a heavy sigh, though, and smiled wearily at her.

 “i guess i’ll just have to earn it, then. prove my word’s worth. gradually.”

 “G-Gradually?” That last word brought to her a sudden and harsh realization, a question that must be asked, and she did so with a sense of urgency. “How... how long will it be until my limbs have healed?”

 “even with my magic helping the healing process along, it’s gonna be a while until you’re back on your feet. the damage you sustained from your fall into the underground must have been bad enough, but that awful weed did a real number on ya. if i were to estimate, i’d say it’ll probably be anywhere from two months at the least to three and a half at the most until you’ve made a complete recovery.”

 “Three... and a half months...” She repeated brokenly, the full extent of his diagnosis not having sunk in quite just yet.

 She didn’t even notice his mentioning of the term ‘magic’, she was so distressed.

 “so that’ll give us plenty of time to get to know one another.” He chuckled mirthfully, before his grin turned tight. “...surely you won’t still hate me three months from now, will you...?”

 “I don’t hate you! I’m just... scared. And I’m still so confused...”

 “over what...?”

 “Several more things. Too many to count, and too many issues to cover in a single conversation, probably.”

 “no, that wasn’t what i... i already knew that much; it’s obvious you would still have plenty of questions left in need of answering, but that will have to wait until later. what i was referring to was what you said before that... what is it that you’re scared of?”

 “...I can’t really explain it.”

 That was all Frisk could reply with after a lengthy pause.

 “...is it me? if it is, it’s... alright. i understand. completely.”

 “I didn’t say that.” She insisted halfheartedly.

 “you didn’t have to.”

 It was written all over her face, expressed in her movements, heard within the inflections of her voice...

 He walked towards the door, not even turning around as he said,

 “...wait right here. i have to get your medicine.”

 “As if I could go anywhere else...” She frowned to herself, but acknowledged that his words had sounded incredibly strained, as though he thought if the girl did have the choice available to her, she would have bolted for the nearest exit as soon as his back was turned.

 Frisk couldn’t deny that the thought hadn’t crossed her mind, of escaping this house, if only her broken body would allow her to do so. But so far, it appeared Sans the skeleton had done everything within his power to help her and absolutely nothing to warrant her distrust.

 But then again, the same could be said of Flowey, who had appeared amiable and offered what was supposed to have been some kindhearted assistance to a helpless and wounded surface dweller, only to purposefully injure her further.

 It was true that every indication had been made that the two couldn’t stand one another, but that didn’t have to mean that Sans was her friend; no matter how the saying went about what the enemy of your enemy was to you. He could hold the very same animosity towards humans that Flowey fostered, and Frisk felt it was safest to keep her guard up, search for any signs of existing hostility, detect even the slightest traces of deceit that could be hiding behind that seemingly friendly smile...

 Sans, however, was inwardly distraught.

 He was thankful that an opportunity had presented itself for him to excuse himself from the presence of the human girl in his company. He couldn’t withstand it a second longer, being subjected to her harsh judging gaze.

 This wasn’t his first time caring for a human, particularly a stubborn one. Some of them had accepted his help and embraced him with open arms, overjoyed to find a friendly face. Others needed some coaxing, some convincing that he wasn’t going to hurt them, and it wasn’t long at all until they believed his claims and found them to be true.

 But they had all been children.

 This was an adult human, a woman with perpetual scorn in her gaze despite his best efforts. And he didn’t know how to handle that.

 “none of them ever hated me before...”

 He returned a few minutes later, carefully carrying a tea cup in hand with wisps of steam wafting from its rim. It was made of creamy white porcelain, which was crafted into the shape of an oversimplified skull. Even the artistry of the handle abided to the skeleton theme present, looking as though it were made from a trio of assembled milky colored bones.

 Frisk sat up in the bed, wincing as she did so. Yes, the medicine she ingested yesterday had most definitely worn off, but she was also delighted to discover that her limbs had in fact unexpectedly, almost unbelievably regained some of their former mobility.

 Even so, she wasn’t exactly looking forward to taking more, though it would numb the pain burdening her and Sans had mentioned that it didn’t taste bitter when mixed in with the tea. The flavor wasn’t her concern, however. Waking up after swallowing whatever was in that concoction had left her feeling as though she had been hit by a truck. Her entire body had felt heavy as lead, as if some unseen pressure were weighing her down.

 Somehow sensing Frisk’s apprehension and correctly deducing the cause, he spoke,

 “this isn’t the same medicine as before. it’ll make you sleepy in a little while and you’ll probably need a nap after, but it won’t knock you out for hours.”

 That was... somewhat reassuring, she thought.

 If he was telling the truth, that is.

 Instead of handing her the cup or forcing it into her hands, Sans set it on the nightstand Frisk had just noticed was there, most likely because she couldn’t move her head towards that angle earlier. The cup would be out of sight should she lay down again, just like the piece of furniture it rested atop, but it would still easily be within her reach should her hands search for it.

 “...do you want to eat now or later?”

 “later.” She answered, both out of wariness and a genuine lack of appetite.

 “ok.”

 Several moments passed with not another word from either of them. Sans was still there, he hadn’t made a single move that suggested he was going to leave, but he wasn’t looking at her like he was earlier, or even at all.

 He wouldn’t look at her.

 Frisk eventually decided to break the silence herself.

 “Don’t you want me to drink it?”

 “yes, i do. but i’m not going to force you.”

 “That didn’t stop you before.”

 “that was an emergency.” He was swift in delivering his rebuttal. “whether you were aware of it or not, you were dying back there. i had to get you somewhere else quick so i could take care of you, and i couldn’t let you suffer for no reason the entire way when there was a safe and ready alternative available. so i’m sorry i fed you something strange to knock you unconscious and brought you here against your will, but if i had to do it over again, i’d still make the same choice. over and over again, without hesitation.”

 He was speaking to her in a serious, stern, nearly scolding tone, but something about the manner in which he spoke managed to prick at her heartstrings, almost as effectively as when the skeleton had expressed his vulnerability earlier. Even while cross, there was a caring, almost loving impression discernible underneath.

 Slowly, and with some amount of delay, Frisk took the tea cup off the night stand and brought the warm liquid to her lips, sipping it quietly.

 Just as Sans had said earlier, the tea disguised the taste of the medicine. In fact, she couldn’t detect it at all on her taste buds.

 “...It’s good.” Frisk muttered at last.

 “i’m glad.” Her drinking the tea made the corners of his mouth quirk upwards, but the expression soon vanished as quickly as it had come. “...i get that you aren’t too keen on the idea of putting any of your trust in me, what with flowey abusing it and all... but i really do want to help you. and i can’t do that if you won’t let me.”

 “...Sans, can you come closer?”

 He complied, albeit confusedly, blatant bewilderment written across his features as he made his approach. Frisk didn’t say anything else until the skeleton was positioned exactly where she wanted him to be, continuing to motion him forward until he was standing directly in front of her bedside.

 “Now what I need you to do is look me in the eyes - not at the floor, the wall, your hands, or anything else you’ve been staring at that isn’t me.”

 “a-alright...” He stuttered unsurely, wondering why she had become so commanding so suddenly and what it was she was going to ask of him next. “i’m looking at you. just you and only you.”

 “One last thing, Sans. ...I need you to tell me, no, promise me that you’re not planning to do anything sinister or rotten to me like Flowey was. I need you to give me your word right here and now. And depending on how you do that, how you respond to this demand of mine, you just might earn my trust.”

 He frowned down at her, and she could tell that he wasn’t exactly happy with being compared to and lumped in with the likes of Flowey, who so far seemed to be more or less his arch nemesis.

 However, Sans maintained eye contact with her, as she had requested, and took a breath,

 “i don’t have anything awful in store for you – all i want is to see that you get better and are well taken care of, regardless of the fact that we’re of different races that are usually perceived to be deeply prejudiced against one another and are all but demanded rather than advised to remain bitter enemies. that’s it. honest. i swear on my SOUL, if that means anything to you.”

 He had hesitated just a moment before answering, just like when Frisk had asked him to make a promise before - something that shouldn’t have boded well for him with her currently playing the role of his judge.

 But the sincerity she found in his voice, the sheer conviction with which he stated his intentions, the sparks of gentle warmth she saw within the lights of his sockets... that was enough to sway her thoughts and opinions on this monster.

 They gazed into each other’s eyes for the longest of times, neither having moved a muscle or a joint since his declaration. Sans was obviously anxious; beads of sweat decorated his skull, and the grin he wore was incredibly forced in a feeble attempt to mask his dread and unease.

 Finally, Frisk was prepared to announce the results of her assessment.

 “...You pass.”

 “...what?” He inquired, breathlessly.

 “You pass.” She repeated plainly. “I’ve decided that I’m going to trust you. You’ve managed to convince me. From this point onward, I’ll go along with your suggestions and your efforts in helping me to heal.”

 Although, to him, she sounded mostly unimpressed with his heartfelt response... But Sans wasn’t so skeptical that he was about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

 He exhaled, patent relief blossoming over his skull. “thank you... i... i promise i won’t do anything to have this honor that was bestowed on me revoked.”

 “But if you do, you’re gonna be wishing that Flowey had succeeded in killing me.” She retorted, half-jokingly and halfway serious.

 “never.” Came his swift reply in that chiding yet close to loving tone.

 Whether Sans meant that he was never going to betray her trust now that he had it or that he wasn’t even going to entertain the notion of the alternate outcome where Flowey killed her, she wasn’t sure.

 But what she was made aware of was, Sans had a nice smile. This one was genuine; unlike the others he had previously displayed with tight grins that didn’t reach his eye sockets. It was sincere, welcoming. Perhaps even sweet.

 And seeing him like this, it made the corners of her own mouth curve upwards.

 Frisk took the tea from where it rested on the nightstand again, intending to drink every drop of it. Her grip wasn’t steady however, and she nearly spilled the entirety of its contents on herself and the bedsheets. Seeing her struggle, Sans kneeled by the bed and curled his phalanges around the cup and consequently her own hands, his large palms engulfing them. He gently eased the tea cup towards her lips.

 She felt heat surrounding the skin of her hands like a warm, comforting blanket, and Frisk believed it wasn’t emanating solely from the beverage she held. How could a skeleton, a being without blood, feel warm?

 The texture of his bones wasn’t how she thought it would be either; they felt smooth to the touch, as expected, but weren’t entirely rigid. There was some suppleness to them. How could a skeleton be soft?

 But he was. Sans was warm and soft; something Frisk likely never would have learned, paid attention to, or cared for at all if she still harbored the same mistrust towards him as she had earlier.

 His low hesitant voice next to her ear caught her notice. “is this okay...? i’m not making you uncomfortable?”

 “No, not at all.” She answered with a chuckle, internally somewhat taken aback by her own reply and the instantaneousness of it.

 He was only assisting her with holding the cup so it didn’t spill, Frisk tried to reason with herself, but still she continued her mental debate with herself; wasn’t what they were doing now a bit too much of a jump compared to before, a bit too cuddly, considering this was the same skeleton monster who she had only began to place some amount of her trust in no more than five minutes ago?

 Even if this was so, she found herself enjoying this unexpected warmth, this sweet and sincere gesture. So much so, Frisk could practically feel the lingering disbelief that remained slowly melting away around her like snow that desperately clung to one’s clothes while in front of a crackling fireplace.

 Sans kept his hands wrapped around hers until the cup was completely empty. He then plucked it from her grasp and set it back on the nightstand before turning around again to face her.

 “you’ve got about an hour, give or take, until the medicine kicks in. that should be enough time to eat something if you’re hungry, unless you really do have no appetite.” When she nodded at the end of his statement, he frowned at her in that distraught way that inexplicably pulled at her heartstrings. “but it’s been a day, a whole twenty-four hours since I found you. even if you ate a big meal directly before falling down here, that’s still a long time to go without putting any food in your body.”

 “You’re awfully insistent about getting me to eat something.” She stated, raising an eyebrow just slightly then continued in a clearly joking manner, “...You’re aren’t trying to fatten me up, are you, Sans?”

 He threw back his head and laughed, barely stifling a snort as he replied, “noooo, i’m just worried about your health is all.” Sans took her response as a sign to proceed, moving towards the door and preparing to go to the kitchen to make something; something that wouldn’t consume too much time and would be light enough on her stomach that it shouldn’t upset her if she truly didn’t have much of an appetite. But not before poking his head back into the room immediately after he left it to cheekily add, “...even if you are cute enough to eat.”

 It was just him teasing her in the same manner as she had seconds prior, she told herself, but still Frisk blushed at the boldness of his words that one could misread as being flirtatious in nature. ...Surely it wasn’t. Just some silly banter between new pals; that’s what it was, right?

 She shook this thought away, as one she deemed more important entered her mind. She narrowly suppressed the excitement in her voice as she called out to him,

 “Sans!”

 Almost instantly, she heard the approaching sound of his slipper-clad feet thundering against the floor of the hallway outside. The door then swung open and there he stood, demanding to know what was wrong with worry gracing his skull.

 It vanished at once after her next sentence, his concerned expression being replaced with one of immeasurable joy.

 “My name isn’t ‘you’, Sans. It’s Frisk.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 Whatever remained of Frisk’s suspicions towards Sans, they completely dissipated by her fourth day under his care.

 Even throughout the first day, after the robed skeleton returned to her room with a steaming hot bowl of stew in hand and insistences that he feed her so as not to further aggravate the injuries of her arms, Frisk found it exceedingly difficult to continue regarding him with doubt.

 He was astonishingly, profoundly considerate, she concluded.

 Having to be fed by him was embarrassing, even if he had stated that there was no reason for her to feel this way when she voiced her sentiments aloud. He was more than happy to do so since she couldn’t. Perhaps he was simply the type that enjoyed caring for and doting on others, Frisk mused.

 Whenever she wasn’t asleep, Sans was almost constantly at her bedside; at her every beck and call. The girl couldn’t recall having ever received such attentiveness before in her entire life, not even from her mother and father. It made her feel a twinge of guilt to place this monster, who was more or less a stranger to her though an incredibly kindhearted one on a higher pedestal than her own parents, but Frisk couldn’t deny that during their so far brief period of knowing one another, Sans has possibly shown more consideration towards her than anyone aboveground ever had.

 Something else that Frisk had learned during her stay is that, when Sans claimed he would provide answers to all her inquiries, he had really meant it.

 Every single question that fell from her lips, no matter how abrupt or bizarre it may have been, the skeleton would never fail to supply her with an answer or an explanation. He never seemed to tire of responding to her endless plethora of questions, strangely; in fact, Sans appeared to find some amount of delight in her never-ending curiosity. Frisk had always been someone who possessed a boundless thirst for knowledge, eternally seeking clarifications in subjects others cared little for, and taking intrigue in forming and uncovering solutions to mysteries that most preferred to remain unknown.

 “Hey, Sans? Why is it that you’re a skeleton, but you’re able to eat? I didn’t think skeletons would need to, or even could eat. Shouldn’t it pass directly through you? Where does it all go?” She had asked one evening when Sans had decided to join her for supper, even after Frisk’s hands had healed enough that him assisting her was no longer necessary – ‘so she wouldn’t be alone’, he had stated somewhat shyly.

 “magic.” Came his simple reply, accompanied by a grin and a wink.

 “Well fine! All right, then! Keep your secrets...”

 “no, i was being entirely literal. magic really is how and why i eat.” He chuckled at what must have been her disbelieving stare. “the bodies of monsters are made of magic, condensed into a solid form. the food down here is made from our concentrated magic, so anything we eat is absorbed directly by our bodies, and the same goes for any humans that consume monster food. ...that’s why the majority of us down here don’t have toilets.”

 “...That explains so much.” So that’s why she hadn’t felt the need to use the restroom since her untimely arrival here... And from there, Frisk’s mind then drifted to the thought of whether skeletons could also gain weight if they could eat. “And yet, I feel this also opens up an entirely new area of discussion that demands to be explored.”

 “i’ll tell you just about anything you want to know about monsters and the underground, but... from where this conversation seems to be headed, is this really a topic that you wanna discuss over dinner?”

 “What? No, noooo - that wasn’t what I was thinking of talking about at all. You were the one that brought up toilets in the first place, so who’s the gross one here?” She laughed freely, the sound causing shivers of delight to run down his spine.

 “if that wasn’t it, then what were you wanting to talk about?”

 “About you.” Frisk answered with just a hint of bashful hesitance, resulting in his SOUL skipping a beat.

 “what... what about me...?” Sans nearly croaked as he pointed to himself, his throat suddenly going dry.

 “Anything and everything you’re willing to share.” She confessed, not quite looking him in the eye socket. “I think you’re really interesting Sans, and I... I want to know more about you. I feel like I could spend years questioning you, all day every day, and I would still never get bored of what you have to say.”

 He must have gaped at her for a good solid minute at the very least, concerning her slightly and making her wonder if she had said something alarming or offensive.

 But then a beautiful grin graced his skull and he shakily replied,

 “ha... ahaha...... hoo boy.” He rubbed the back of his head with a nervous chuckle, unable to look at her while aware that his zygomas were flushed and glowing a bright, near blinding blue. “i... i can’t say anyone’s ever said anything like that to me before... uh, you... you said you’ve still got questions, wasn’t that right, frisk? keep ‘em rollin’.”

 Sans was different – he entertained her inquisitiveness, encouraged it. She would even go so far as to say he almost appeared flattered by it instead of finding her and her various interests annoying.

 Frisk wondered if he was lonely.

 That was the only conceivable reason why he would tolerate her oddities as much as he had, she thought.

 After Frisk decided that he had earned her trust and that she enjoyed his company, she began to notice the little things about him. How, even when he was smiling brightly, there was something sad about those pale white spheres of light within his sockets. Beneath them were dark circles present, like how humans would develop dark circles under their eyes due to stress or loss of sleep.

 She had commented at least once that he appeared to be exhausted, not directly mentioning the easily visible marks beneath his sockets, but Sans had brushed her off with a smile. He assured her that he slept plenty, perhaps too much, the skeleton added with a quiet chuckle. Still, it concerned her – the thought of him taking an uncaring approach to his own health when he had put so much effort into bettering hers was a saddening one.

 But the longer she stayed in his company, the lighter the markings underneath his sockets became.

 It didn’t make much sense to her – if anything, Frisk would have thought that tending to the needs of another as exceedingly as he had for her the past few weeks would have only exhausted him further. Instead, every morning when he came to her room to greet her, Sans seemed just a little bit more perky than the previous day.

 Did he really enjoy her presence that much?

 As the days passed on, one after the other, the more sure she became that this was the truth.

 Another peculiar habit of his was how shy he seemed to be around her. Frisk wasn’t certain if he acted this way around everyone or if she was some sort of exception, since the only person she had seen him interact with so far other than herself was Flowey and as far as she was concerned that nasty little buttercup had no relevance in this private mental discourse of hers - but one day she became confident enough to ask him.

 Apparently, the answer was a little of both.

 Ever since he was small, Sans has felt somewhat uncomfortable conversing and spending an extended period of time with those he wasn’t familiar with. However, he then stated that Frisk was a special case to him and further affected his shyness. So much so, Sans admitted to the girl that he felt as though he had been dangerously close to fainting himself when speaking to her for the first time; the sole reason why he hadn’t was there had been the more important and pressing task of tending to her injuries to focus on at the moment.

  When she questioned him as to why he would feel that way towards her, this was what he had to say,

 “you... you’re really pretty.” He professed, a blue blush beginning to creep over his cheeks. “i’ve never met anyone as pretty before, and when i first saw you, that actually scared me just a little. i... i got nervous.”

 Sans couldn’t be as shy as he claimed to be if he was willing to admit that to her face, even if he couldn’t quite muster up the courage to look at it as he said that.

 But as their time together gradually increased, his timidity gradually began to wane.

 He would still mumble and stutter when he spoke to her, but his actions and words became undeniably more bold.

 It had all began one late evening while Sans was at her bedside, sitting in that same wooden chair that was much too little for his build as he responded to her vast quantities of questions, as per usual. The tiny chair could support his weight no longer; the legs collapsed underneath him with an oddly thunderous crackling, dumping the skeleton out onto the floor on his back.

 Frisk knew she shouldn’t have, but she laughed.

 She hadn’t meant to, but it was beyond her impulse control! To begin with, the small uncharacteristically high-pitched yelp that he let out when he was sent tumbling backwards was nothing short of hysterical, but the expression on his face as it happened was something that deserved not to be ignored. His eye sockets had gone impossibly wide and the spheres inside them had shrunken down to tiny pinpricks. But after he crashed against the floor, his eyelights had enlarged to the point they looked like twin moons.

 The entire scene was too humorous, or humerus as Sans would call it, to keep her face straight and her mouth shut.

 But when Sans didn’t move after longer than a few seconds had passed of him silently staring up at the ceiling just blinking his sockets, that was when the giggles died down and concern began to take over.

 Frisk’s body moved on its own accord, rolling out of bed and landing on her feet before limping over to him.

 “Sans? Sans! Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?!” She took his face in her hands, practically yelling directly in it. The sheer panic in her voice made him snap out of whatever trance he was in.

 “i... i’m fine. i think.” His eyelights still looked a bit wonky to her; they had returned to their normal size, but the white orbs were facing different directions and they were spinning round and around...

 He sat up a bit straighter, willing the spheres in his eyes to go back to normal. Only then did she begin to relax, releasing her frightened grip on his skull and arms returning to her sides.

 “everything’s fine, frisk; it’ll take just a little more than that to do anything serious to these old bones.”

 “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that so I won’t worry, are you?”

 “‘m sure.”

 She still wasn’t totally convinced he was telling the truth, but she would let him off the hook for now – if he really was hurt, it would be made apparent to her soon enough.

 “I’m so sorry that I laughed...” She apologized as she lowered her gaze, deeply ashamed.

 “don’t be.” One phalange found its way under her chin, gently lifting her head up. “it was kind of funny, wasn’t it?”

 “If it had been me that fell instead, you wouldn’t have been laughing.” Frisk stated bluntly, knowing that what she said was true.

 “frisk, i wasn’t hurt, so it’s fine.” He replied with a tone of finality, then smiled at her. “but it’s nice to know that you chair about me so much.”

 Once she had processed the pun, Frisk’s eyes automatically narrowed and her nose wrinkled in mock disgust. He laughed at her petulant expression, and the sound was enough for the disgruntled look on her face to slip just slightly. It vanished entirely when the phalange that had been under her chin shifted, the hand it belonged to reaching up to cup her cheek.

 Sans’s own expression had softened as well; a warm smile elevating the corners of his mouth coupled with a tender gaze meant solely for her. His other hand rose to brush the stray and uneven strands of hair away from the girl’s eyes as his thumb traced smooth circles against the skin of her cheek.

 Anything she had to say to him prior had died on her lips.

 His actions had rendered her entirely speechless.

 Sans spent the next few minutes gently running his boney fingers through her hair and stroking her face, appreciating the different types of softness from both. His eye sockets were lidded from sheer bliss, he was enjoying this moment that much.

 However, he returned to his senses not too long afterward, his sockets snapping open with a gasp of sudden realization. He immediately removed his hands and scrambled backwards, nearly on all fours, until his back hit the wall.

 Frisk stared at him with even more confusion evident than when he had been affectionately pawing at her.

 “i... i can explain, i...” Sans stuttered, hands fluttering about as if on the defensive and anticipating her to attack him for his behavior. “no, no i can’t explain anything this time... not at all. oh stars, frisk, i... i’m so sorry. i don’t know what came over me.”

 “No, no... It’s... it’s alright! I’m not mad at you, Sans, so there’s no reason at all for you to act like I am.” She shuffled towards him once more, but only made it a few steps across the room before her legs gave out on her – they were still far too weak due to a combination of several consecutive weeks of bedrest and the injuries she sustained when she first fell into the Underground and encountered Flowey.

 Sans pushed his previous thought process to the side and moved to assist her. He was at her side in an instant, hoisting Frisk into his arms before she could begin to question him of his objective. He carried her back to the bed, placing her gently underneath the covers then pulling the sheets up to her chest, all the while struggling to aim an admonishing look at his patient.

 He was immensely flattered by how quickly she had rose to her feet, for the first time in weeks, just to make certain that he hadn’t injured himself despite the pain she must have felt in doing so. However, as much as this gesture of hers touched the very depths of his SOUL, he also wished that she hadn’t left the bed in the first place. She was still recuperating, and if he hadn’t carelessly broken the chair he had been sitting on, then Frisk wouldn’t have had a reason to exert herself.

 Sans had no one to blame but himself for this... and perhaps Flowey. He too was responsible, in a roundabout sort of way, but Sans knew he couldn’t pin every single thing that went wrong during the process of Frisk’s recovery on him, as tempting as the thought was. That was just escaping responsibility.

 “What’s with the sour face, Mr. Grumpybones?” She took notice of his bitter expression and was swift in pointing it out.

 “i would think the answer to that question is obvious – you got out of bed when i specifically told you just this morning not to.”

 “But what was I supposed to do then? Just... lay here and watch you have a staring contest with the ceiling when it was totally possible and reasonable for me to think that you might have split the back of your skull open because you didn’t pop right back up after that fall you took?”

 “i was in a minor case of shock from the impact.” Sans struggled to remain firm with her. “i would have gotten up, eventually.”

 “Well, even if what you’re saying is true...,” He momentarily scowled at her, but not for long until it too evaporated. “...Eventually just wasn’t good enough for me.”

 His mouth opened and closed in rapid succession, but eventually, he just smiled down at her with all the warmth and quiet intensity that had been present before. Again, he carded his phalanges through her bangs, then said quietly, almost inaudibly,

 “get some rest, pumpkin.”

 He was trying to escape the conversation, Frisk surmised, but her thoughts were cut short when she felt a soft pressure against her forehead. Sans quickly turned off the lamp and shuffled out of the room as if embarrassed, almost ashamed. What reason would he have to be embarrassed? Frisk was fairly certain the lingering sensation she felt on her forehead was from a kiss.

 How that could even possible she wasn’t entirely certain, but Frisk had previously witnessed him drinking from a straw on some occasions during their mealtimes together, so perhaps him being capable of kissing wasn’t too much of a stretch. At any rate, Sans had fled the scene before she had the chance to question him about it, and perhaps that was exactly the point.

 However, Sans didn’t remain bashful concerning his gestures of affection. The next morning, he greeted Frisk with another hesitant kiss to the cheek, just like the night before, but instead of apologizing and stumbling over his words, his bright eyelights studied her closely, gauging her reaction for any signs of discomfort or disgust. Finding none, he grinned widely, and from there, the adoration he felt and actively expressed towards her only increased.

 He gave her kisses sparingly, and gave plenty of warning beforehand from that point onward, just in case... She allowed him at each occasion, even turning her cheek towards him and tapping it with her index finger feigning impatience sometimes when it seemed to her he wanted to press his mouth against her skin, but refrained from it for whatever reason; perhaps it was that timidity of his creeping back every so often to remind him of its existence and to make itself known.

 During one instance when he leaned down to give her a peck on the forehead, he hesitated, much longer than usual and too long in her opinion. So to remedy the situation, Frisk leaned upwards slightly... and placed a peck of her own on the tip of his nasal ridge. He leapt backwards as if she had slung cold water on him instead, and yes, during her stay here, Frisk had learned that magical skeleton monsters could be affected by changes in temperatures and experience sensations similar to a human’s nerve endings. His spine was pressed up against the closed door – she wasn’t entirely certain how he had managed to scurry that distance, and in reverse so quickly; Frisk was halfway convinced that he had somehow teleported.

 He blinked owlishly at her for several extended, drawn out seconds, then broke out into a wide grin and laughed.

 Afterward, Sans gave her a kiss at the beginning and conclusion of each day they spent in one another’s company.

 It wasn’t long after until Frisk found the strength to walk again, on the condition that she was under constant supervision as a precaution in case her legs collapsed underneath her again. The first few days, Sans held her hand in a strong but gentle grip, leading the girl around his home wherever it was she wanted to go. He would chide her on pushing her limits, but he could only surmise how liberating it must have felt to be able to move around again and stretch her legs after so long of being confined to a single room, and unable to even leave bed at that.

 Her first time leaving the bedroom was almost exciting, to finally see what lied beyond the walls of that child-sized, enclosed room. The hallway outside seemed so wide, and seemed to stretch further than it really did. Aside from the door to Frisk’s room, there were two others visible – one led to Sans’s bedroom, and the other was a mystery. When Sans caught her staring at it and the sign dangling from the doorframe, which politely deterred any would-be trespassers from entering, he led her away and guided her attentions towards the living area. She was still curious about it, but pushed any thoughts pertaining to the prohibited door to the side to ponder later.

 Sans’s house was a bit on the small side and simple in design, but also cozy and comforting; the very epitome of a cottage dwelling. The living room was her favorite place to be – often she and Sans would sit and make themselves comfy in that giant armchair of his and read by the fireplace together. There was no danger of this one breaking under their combined weight, he insisted, but Frisk was still cautious about sitting on the arm of the chair, no matter how well-built and sturdy it looked.

 When she voiced this concern aloud, he then offered her a place by his side. If she took him up on this suggestion, then she would practically be sitting in his lap. Perhaps not, and while Frisk would admit that she was growing more and more fond of him with each passing day in a certain sense, going so far as allowing him to kiss her face and finding herself often returning the gesture, the girl still couldn’t quite say she was comfortable to that extent with cozying up to Sans.

 And yet, Frisk found herself inching closer and closer to him anyway, unconsciously moving more towards his immediate vicinity each time they sat together in that armchair suitable for a king. Not to the degree that she was ever settled in his lap, but she had definitely brushed shoulders with him, even leaned against him a time or two. He welcomed the dwindling proximity between them, occasionally wrapping an arm around her own shoulders if she was enough within his reach to do so.

 How this routine of theirs even began was when Frisk had spotted a bookshelf next to the armchair, each row filled with titles unfamiliar to her. They were all authored by the monsters inhabiting the Underground, he informed her, and she then wanted to view their contents for herself. She was astounded to find that the words on the pages inside were written in her language and not one unfamiliar to her, but Sans spoke English as well, so it really shouldn’t have surprised her as much as it did.

 Some of them were children’s books and fairytales, stories that Sans had owned since he was small – they were in excellent condition for their estimated age, which briefly made her wonder how old Sans actually was. Others were of the nonfictional variety, like biographies containing tales and accounts of humans and monsters having once lived in harmony many, many years ago. She learned this period of peace between the races came to an abrupt end when humanity waged war against the monsters; the humans emerged victorious, rounded up the monster population, and sealed them away in a deep cavern under Mount Ebott behind a magical barrier.

 If it weren’t for the fact that Frisk was brutally assaulted by a talking flower and was currently sitting next to a giant living animate skeleton, she wouldn’t have believed it.

 “...They didn’t tell us about this in history class at school on the surface.”

 “ha! i can believe that. it seems like the vast majority of humanity has forgotten that we even exist, much less ever lived alongside them. now monsters have been relegated to malignant figures in your stories that terrorize children and other innocents...”

 “I can’t even begin to imagine how insulting that must be to you.” She frowned, eying him with sympathy in her gaze. “...Are you the only monster that feels this way about humans, wanting to put what happened in the past behind you, or are the rest all like Flowey and think we’re evil?”

 He instantly looked discomforted by her question. Sans was visibly squirming in his seat, seeming more nervous than she ever could recall having seen him. He almost appeared pained, he was so unsettled.

 But before she could retract her inquiry, apologize, or attempt to comfort him, he at last answered her. “opinions are... varied, among monsterkind.”

 “......Oh.” She said quietly, taking as long with her own reply as he had.

 An uncomfortable silence followed.

 Neither of them would look at one another. Both could only writhe uncomfortably where they sat, both consumed with regret for the things that were said. The warm, domestic mood around them had been spoiled, and Frisk felt it was her fault for bringing up such a serious, not to mention grim topic in the first place.

 But now that the topic had surfaced, it made her begin to consider something, and this wasn’t the first time that this particular something had plagued her thoughts before.

 From his actions and his behavior towards her, Frisk could deduce that Sans obviously held a great deal of compassion towards humanity. He didn’t have to help her at all when he did, and neither would a human if she were being honest, but especially not him when her own kind had imprisoned his entire race. He had no obligation to assist her and would gain nothing from doing so, nothing that she could think of at any rate, and yet he had without a second thought. Not even for his own safety, as Sans had faced Flowey in order to get to her.

 Flowey’s last words of parting to the skeleton had been haunting her lately.

 “You fool… Humans will always despise monsters. You remember that when you’re at the mercy of this one and it has none to spare…”

 Was Sans an outcast among the rest of his kind because of his stance towards humans? Is that why he lived alone in this little house, and never brought home any company?

 Sans wasn’t entirely without companionship, at least this was what Frisk tried to convince herself of; he seemed to have at least one friend in the spider lady that had taught him how to sew the beautiful blue blanket with the bones stitched in the fabric that currently sat atop her bed, who he mentioned when she had once asked him where it came from. However, Sans had spoken as though that had been some time ago. Perhaps he truly didn’t have anyone else in his life aside from herself.

 Dwelling on that thought as she did suddenly made her unbearably sad, feeling as though the blame lied solely on her shoulders that such a wonderful, patient, and kind monster would spend the remainder of his life alone as long as she was here.

 So much so, that Frisk wasn’t even aware she was crying until she felt Sans begin to wipe the tears that cascaded down her cheeks with his thumb.

 “please... please don’t cry, pumpkin.” She wasn’t sure why, perhaps it was his mournful tone or the just as saddened expression on his face that was rendered slightly blurry through her tearstained vision, but she only wailed all the more, which was the exact opposite of what Sans wanted. He then reached out for her, to envelop her in his arms in a comforting embrace, the history book that he had held loosely in his hands tumbling to the floor, forgotten. “pumpkin, why are you crying...?”

 “Sans, am I... not supposed to be here...?” She sniffled, struggling to extricate herself from his gentle grasp, feeling as though she didn’t deserve it or him. “Am I the reason why you’re alone?”

 She heard him let out a quiet gasp before holding her even closer to himself, against his chest. In the small space of time prior to him speaking again, she heard something else, a pulsing, thumping sound emanating from somewhere deep within his ribcage. It was almost like a heartbeat... If she wasn’t so wrapped up in her own sorrow, Frisk might have contemplated why she would be hearing something that was so similar to a heartbeat coming from Sans when skeleton monsters shouldn’t have hearts.

 “...why would you think something like that?” He was running his phalanges through her hair, barely nuzzling the top of head as he urged her to speak. “why are you blaming yourself for that? why? tell me.”

 Frisk didn’t want to mention what Flowey had said, or what was written in the book for that matter. She wasn’t sure why he even bothered asking her, if only to hear her say it in that awful, croaky, hiccup-laden voice of hers - they both knew exactly why. She didn’t want to talk about this at all, even though the two of them having arrived at this point was entirely through her doing.

 She couldn’t think of anything to say, so the girl only let out a sob and shook her head, refusing to reply.

 He sighed, squeezing her tighter, but not so much that it would be discomforting or painful, then moved his mouth next to her ear, so he could ascertain that what he had to say would be heard.

 “frisk, i need you to calm down, pumpkin. i need you to breathe. it’s not your fault. none of this is.” When she weakly attempted to argue, he shushed her, his voice little above a whisper. “yes, it’s true you’re not supposed to be down here, according to the law of monsterkind, but it’s not because of you that i’m alone – that has nothing to do with you. i made my choice a long time ago, long before you ever fell down here. and i have no regrets about that. none at all.”

 “But... But it’s not fair!” She clutched onto his robe and bawled into his shoulder, the cloth becoming damp with her tears, but he didn’t care.

 “i know it’s not fair, it’s not fair at all, but that’s just how things are down here, pumpkin. it’s not your fault.”

 “Why does it feel like it is, though?” The question escaped her lips before she could stop it; it was probably the only one she has asked him that he didn’t have an answer for.

 “i don’t know. but if i’ve said or done anything to make you feel this way, then i’m sorry. i won’t ever do it again.” The smoothness that was his cheek rubbed against her wet one as he again asked of her, his request sounding more like a plea, “just please, please stop crying... i can’t take it. it hurts too much.”

 “I... I don’t know if I can...” She choked out, and his hands shifted from their place tangled in her hair to rubbing slow, soothing circles into her back.

 “...then i’ll hold you for as long as it takes. if you’ll allow me to.”

 Frisk responded by clinging to him desperately, her fingers grabbing at his broad shoulders for grounding. Again, she heard the sound of the strange inexplicable pulsing within his chest; it was even louder than before, almost as if demanding its existence to be known. The curious thumping against his bones calmed her, and it wasn’t long after that she felt her own heartbeat slowing down, the flow of her tears beginning to slow, and with that the mysterious palpitations next to her other ear began to fade as well.

 By the time her tearful fit had reached its conclusion, Frisk was left feeling embarrassed and ashamed over that spontaneous emotional outburst. She had put Sans in an uncomfortable position, she was sure, both figuratively and literally – when he had reached out to embrace her, she had been maneuvered until she was more or less in his lap. Not quite there, but close enough that it would be undoubtedly awkward should he notice and decide to bring attention towards it.

 But when she mustered the courage to look him in the eye sockets again, she found nothing but sympathy and concern in his gaze.

 “you alright now, pumpkin?” He inquired softly with the tiniest frown.

 “Yeah, I’m all cried out. My eyes are entirely bone dry now.” She replied with a laugh that was just as dry as she claimed her eyes currently were.

 Sans quietly chuckled at the pun before his expression turned serious. “i’m so sorry, frisk. i didn’t mean to make you cry. that was all my fault – i shouldn’t have been so insensitive when there were so many other ways i could’ve gone about telling you.”

 “No, no, you’ve got it wrong, Sans. You weren’t being insensitive; I was being too sensitive and couldn’t handle what you said in a mature manner. It was entirely my fault Sans, all mine.” Before he could protest, she continued, “I guess that what you said just surprised me... I mean, I knew that things must be bad between our races, considering what happened in the past, but... hearing that so many monsters hate me already even though I’ve never met them... I suppose that just got to me is all.”

 “they don’t hate you, pumpkin. i don’t think anyone could.”

 Sans didn’t know how wrong he was, she thought.

 “the problem is that they just don’t know you. they don’t know you like i do.” He smiled tenderly at her. “i think that if the rest of the monsters here that feel the way they do about humans got to know you, if they gave you a fair chance, every single one of them would inevitably fall in love with you. ......like i did.”

 She almost gaped at him once Frisk processed what it was he had said.

 Sans had most definitely said that he loved her, and he had said it with a glowing deep blue blush coating the majority of his cheekbones area. What he had said was unquestionably sweet, but she was left wondering in what sense was he referring to when he professed his love. Surely, it must be of the platonic sort, or possibly even the familial. As implausibly tolerant as he was towards her kind, surely he, a monster, wouldn’t develop feelings for a human...

 She gathered what was left of her wits and asked him for clarification.

 “...What do you mean, ‘like you did’? What does that mean?”

 “whatever you want it to.” He replied simply, punctuating his statement with a swift peck against the crown of her head.

 Her face screwed into a look of irritation and confusion – that answered nothing at all. If anything, it only left her with more questions.

 What did she want it to mean? This wasn’t the first time that she pondered the state of their relationship, especially once Sans had began kissing her as often as he did. These thoughts only multiplied once she began anticipating his affectionate gestures and eventually returning them.

 She didn’t know what she wanted it to be; she was still confused over her exact feelings towards him, but what Frisk did know was, she liked Sans. In what way, she wasn’t completely certain – but she liked him.

 “...why don’t we talk about something else, something lighter.” He suggested, snapping Frisk out of her reverie.

 “Wait. I have one other question about this humans and monsters subject. One more.”

 “alright...” He responded cautiously, at least willing to hear her out.

 “What makes you different from them?” Noticing signs of perplexity surfacing on his skull, she elaborated, “Why do you feel the way you do about humans, showing them mercy, when the other monsters apparently don’t? Why are you different?”

 Sans appeared to hesitate before replying, but when he did, he wore a grin that was different than the other ones she had seem from him; beaming, almost proud.

 “the reason why i’m like i am is because of my older brother.” His sockets closed, seeming to reminisce. “he was obsessed with humans, despite everything he had always been told about them growing up. the rest of the underground thought that he was an oddball, but he was determined to show everyone down here that humans weren’t as bad as all the stories from the war made them out to be.”

 Frisk smiled at the fondness he clearly showed for his brother, but then a certain detail she discerned in his speech commanded her attention – Sans spoke of him in past tense.

 “...Sans? Did... Did something happen? ...To your brother?”

 His grin then turned into a grimace. “he’s... he’s no longer with us. he passed away. and i’d... really rather not talk about what happened.”

 “That’s okay! You’ve told me enough now; we can talk about something else, if you’d like.”

 “...but what about you, though?” He questioned, his voice sounding strained to her for some reason. “what about your family on the surface?”

 “Oh, them...” Now it was her turn to frown. “I have a mother and a younger sister. I doubt either of them has noticed I’m gone. Or anyone I know, for that matter.”

 “that can’t be true. i refuse to believe that could ever be true. ...what kind of relationship do you have with your sister?”

 “She hates my guts.” Frisk stated none too delicately.

 “...oh.” Sans looked at her with all the consolation that he could summon, as if it was the most tragic thing he had ever heard. “i’m sorry... ...i have a younger sibling myself. another brother. we... we haven’t spoken for some time. ...he did something. something terrible. something so horrible that perhaps it’s even unforgiveable, and i haven’t been able to look at him the same way ever since. ...so i left, and moved here, into our old childhood home. the one place in the underground i know he’ll never think to look for me.”

 “So you sort of understand how it is, to feel this way about a sibling. I don’t hate my sister, but I... I really can’t say I like her either.”

 “i as well wouldn’t say i hate him, for what he did. ...i don’t think i could ever say that i hate my brother, but i’m not sure if i can ever bring myself to forgive him for what he did, much less allow him to reenter my life when i’m reasonably sure he isn’t sorry for what happened between us that caused the rift in the first place.”

 “...And it just got worse after the dispute that caused you to leave. Everyone takes the side of your younger brother over yours.”

 “you know us so well, it’s as if you were actually there to experience everything there is that exists between the two of us.”

 “Like I said, I kind of understand where you’re coming from, maybe.”

 “...but you don’t deserve to know what that’s like.” He cupped her cheek with one of his large palms, staring deeply into her eyes. “you deserve the best life has to offer, frisk. not... whatever it was that you went through on the surface. not whatever it was that caused you to come to this stars forsaken mountain, of all places.”

 “You might be the only one to think so, Sans.”

 “...then i’ll love you enough for all of them.” Sans murmured as he rested one of his large palms over hers, cradling her hand as if it were something irreplaceably precious.

 Another lengthy moment of silence passed between them, far longer but also far more peaceful than the one before. It held the sense of calmness that followed after a harsh and heavy storm, a reminder that the terror had passed and those who weathered through it were permitted to relax and put their qualms at ease.

 Sans wrapped his free arm around Frisk’s shoulders, bringing her closer to him than she had ever been, but still not quite to the extent that she was sitting in his lap. He gently urged her to rest her head against his shoulder, and she did, feeling exhausted from her crying episode earlier. He then rested his own atop hers, his eye sockets closing contentedly with a soft pleased hum.

 Before she slipped into a state of slumber, Frisk thought she heard him repeat in a hushed whisper that he loved her, as if to remind her in case this detail had somehow been forgotten.

 How could she forget? It was the first time someone had said something like that to her with so much emotion and sincerity.

 Sans did love her, she realized, more than anyone in her life ever had. Perhaps that was why she found herself accepting his kisses and tender touches so easily, and even reciprocating them. Now that she had learned what real affection was from him, Frisk was almost constantly starved for it, though she never once voiced this aloud, far to embarrassed and more than enough ashamed for thinking and feeling such things.

 Thankfully, she never had to. Sans was more than enough willing to provide her with the attention she so secretly craved, as long as his shyness didn’t interfere - and even then, that aspect of him was swiftly vanishing.

 ...So why was it that Frisk at times longed for what was found elsewhere, on the surface?

 As lovely as Sans’s house was, after a few weeks had passed of her having regained her ability to walk, the girl was beginning to get a little stir crazy. The need to move her legs and explore what lied beyond was becoming unbearable, and the walls of the tiny cottage were feeling smaller and smaller every day, to the point it was near suffocating.

 She needed fresh air. She needed to breathe.

 “and just where do you think you’re going?”

 Sans had caught her attempting to exit through the door in the hallway; not the one with the descending stairs – he was adamant about not letting her go down there. He insisted it was a basement, but he would have a reaction that was close to a panic attack whenever she would venture too close to it. Perhaps he was afraid she would stumble down them and injure herself further?

 Anyway, it wasn’t quite accurate to say he had caught her – Frisk wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she was heading outside, but judging from the tone the skeleton used when he noticed her, it was clearly no different than if she had.

 “I was going outside?”

 “absolutely out of the question.” He responded swiftly and sternly.

 “But Sans! I... I’m feeling a bit cramped here!” She spoke over his objections. “I’ve tried walking back and forth from the living room to the end of the hallway to get rid of this feeling, but it’s just not working anymore!”

 “no.” He nearly growled, surprising her slightly, but there was a distinct fear in his eye sockets.

 “...Are you afraid that a monster is gonna see me, realize I’m human, and then attack me or something?” Frisk inquired, the possibility of such a thing occurring having now just dawned upon her.

 “that... that’s not the only thing i’m worried about. most of the monsters that live here would accept and adore you if they got to know you, i’m absolutely sure of this, but... it’s not really them you and i should be so concerned with here – it’s flowey.”

 “...Oh yeah. Him...” She had honestly almost forgotten about him, fortunately.

 “if he found you again, if he decided to come back here despite what happened then... i’m afraid that he might try to, ah..., ‘finish the job’ from last time...”

 “If he wanted to do that, then why hasn’t he tried to after all this time since he almost killed me? Is it because of you?”

 “i think that might be a possible explanation as to why he’s never tried ambushing this place.” He gestured to the space around them, the little cottage that he called home, “even when he’d have to know that i’m sleeping, and as much as he obviously detests me, he’s never tried to sneak inside and attack me during the night. ...i believe it might be because... he’s afraid of me.”

 After hearing the voice Sans spoke to him with and witnessing what he had done to the evil flower, Frisk could understand why he would now.

 “Well, if you’re so afraid that he’d attack me and so sure that he’s scared of you, then why not go with me?”

 “...pardon?”

 “Go. With. Me. On a walk through the Ruins.” She bounced eagerly on her heels, stretching out her hand for him to take. “Everything should be fine then, right? As long as you’re with me.”

 He was so quiet and for so long that she was afraid Sans was attempting to sort out the easiest way to deny her in his head. However, a bright blue blush eventually found its way on and covered his cheeks, and slowly, he took her hand in his.

 “...at the first sign of trouble, we’re coming back. immediately.”

 “Understood.” She happily agreed, then gave their conjoined hands a tug forward. “Come on, old man! Let’s get those feet moving!”

 “i’ve already told you before – i’m not that old.”

 “Then you should start acting your age – prove you’re not by shaking a leg and getting a move on!”

 And so walks around the Ruins became a part of their daily routine. At first Sans was insistent that they remain restricted to his front yard and the area around it, but as their days together outside increased, he gradually became more lenient and they would travel a little further than the previous day. Eventually, the pair reached the beginning of the cavern, where Frisk had fallen down some time ago.

 And there awaiting them was a sharp bone stabbed into the ground, the marrow thickly coated in a light green colored fluid.

 Though the vile flower was nowhere to be found, this spiteful act was enough for both to be made aware that he had indeed survived being stabbed in the stem by Sans. He highly doubted that Flowey would feel up to trying anything gutsy while he was here, but the arm he had wrapped around Frisk to steady her tightened protectively, in preparation should his assumption turn out to be wrong.

 Frisk’s attention eventually strayed from the spear made of bone to the bed of flowers that had broken her fall.

 “Y’know, it’s kind of funny in a really surreal way. I was almost killed by a literally living flower right at this spot, but if it weren’t for those flowers, I might not have even survived the fall down here.”

 An oddly morose look crossed Sans’s face as he stared down at the bed of buttercups, feeling his sockets moisten.

 “oh gaster... even after everything that happened back then, even while in the grave, you’re still doing everything within your power to help humankind... that’s just like something you would do...”

 When his older brother had died, crumbled away to dust right before him, Sans remembered his request, in his final breaths, that he be given a human burial. Humans buried their dead underneath the earth, and while he certainly didn’t understand it or even try to, Sans honored this, as it was the last thing he could do for him. His younger brother had staunchly protested this, demanding that his dust be scattered in front of the barrier, closest to the surface that most monsters longed to one day see and experience, but Sans fulfilled their dear departed brother’s final desire anyway, despite the anger he had outwardly expressed.

 Sans had felt just as furious at the time, but he respected Gaster enough to not argue against his dying wishes.

 And as he carried the sleeping Frisk home due to her having valiantly struggled but failed to remain awake about one third of the way back, Sans was more grateful than ever that he had heeded his older brother’s parting words of wisdom. If he hadn’t, then he was absolutely certain that he never would have met and fallen so deeply and hopelessly in love with the woman he held in his arms.

 The mere thought brought a cold chill of pure terror down his spine, but he managed to will it away by focusing on the weight and warmth present of the adorable human he held so closely to his SOUL in the most literal and figurative definition imaginable.

 She was here. She was safe.

 Here and safe, with him.

 And she always would be, if he had any say in it.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

 “i beg your pardon?!”

 Sans had all but yelped that one fateful morning at breakfast, having spat out his tea all over the tablecloth in his shock. Frisk didn’t think that what she had to say would have surprised him as much as it did, but he had immediately proven her wrong.

 “Sans, are you alright?!” She rose up from her chair, scampered over to his side, and began rapidly patting his back even though she wasn’t certain if choking worked the same for skeleton monsters as it did for humans.

 “yes... i’m fine...” His voice still sounded hoarse from all his sputtering. “you just... surprised me. that’s all.”

 It had been well over four months since she had found herself in his care. Her injuries had healed entirely, and as much as she enjoyed Sans’s companionship, Frisk understood that she was overstaying her welcome and it was time for her to leave. He spent basically every single waking moment by her side, only going outside when they took their walks through the Ruins – this was not the sort of life that he should live. She couldn’t keep imposing on him like this, no matter how much he insisted that she wasn’t. He was just too kind for his own good.

 Telling him of her plans to go was more painful for her than he would ever know, if she could help it – she had to be firm with him, make her intentions clear and show no indication of hesitation or doubt, otherwise he might just convince her to stay. She had held off on bringing up this subject for long enough, and Frisk felt this was something that had to be done.

 Sans appeared utterly miserable at the revelation that she was indeed leaving, and this almost made her retract her previous statement. However, he managed to muster a smile for her before she could and asked,

 “but before you go, would you at least have one last cup of tea with me?”

 How could she turn away such an innocent request, especially accompanied with a face like that?

 Sans had asked her to wait in the living room for him; they would also read one more book together – again, she couldn’t find it within her to say no, even though it would undoubtedly make it all the more difficult for her to leave.

 It was halfway through his narration of the adventures starring a fluffy bunny and after she had finished her cup that it happened – Frisk was struck with a sudden and overpowering sensation of drowsiness. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and Sans’s voice was beginning to sound far away even though she was right next to him.

 She reached out to weakly clutch onto his sleeve, and he stopped mid-sentence.

 “frisk?”

 “Sans... I... I can’t...” She mumbled, her words sounding slurred to her own ears.

 “can’t what? what’s wrong?” He questioned, setting the storybook to the side just in time for her to collapse onto his lap. “frisk!”

 “I’m sorry... I can’t anymore... I can’t...” She fought against the darkness of sleep that threatened to overtake her, but it was all in vain, she realized. “I can’t... stay awake... anymore...”

 Then everything. Went. Black.

 When she finally awoke from what had felt like a thousand-year sleep, the first thing that came into Frisk’s steadily returning vision was the familiar walls of the guest room and Sans’s worried face hovering over her, his eyelights having been reduced to tiny trembling pinpricks. The relief that washed over his expression was instantaneous, letting out a sigh of repose as he reached out to tenderly cradle her cheek.

 “pumpkin, how are you feeling? ...speak to me, baby girl.”

 “Sans...” She whimpered, still feeling lightheaded and weak. “...I feel like I’m made of stone and I’m falling. ...It’s horrible. I’m scared.”

 “frisk... i’m sorry... i’m so, so sorry...” Sans looked to be on the verge of tears; she wasn’t sure why he would be saying he was sorry – he had nothing to apologize for, no reason to blame himself. “...that unpleasant sensation of yours might go away in a few minutes. i hope... but frisk...? i think it might be best if you stay with me for a while longer, until you recover from this. maybe a few more days? on the chance that this might happen again?”

 “I... I think you might be right about that.” She groaned, her body feeling heavy as lead. “Because I can’t go anywhere like this. I can barely even move my head from side to side, much less my arms and legs. ...I’m the one that should really be sorry, Sans. You were finally going to be free of me, haha... And now you’re stuck with the burden of taking care of me again.”

 “hush. that’s enough of that.” He placed a bony finger against her lips. “i... i’ve never for a single instance seen you as a burden, frisk. and right now is no different. i’ll watch over and take care of you for as long as need be. because i love you...”

 She certainly believed him; there were no lingering doubts in her heart that he did, but Frisk still felt as though she didn’t deserve his love.

 The next few days passed by in a hazy blur. Frisk had once again regained mobility, late into the day after she had abruptly lost consciousness, but her motions and steps were still unpredictable and wobbly. Sans would take her by the hand and gently lead her wherever it was she needed to go, just like when she was relearning to walk when the bones in her legs had healed. She would outwardly bemoan how helpless she had become, but Sans persisted with his assertions that he didn’t mind offering her his assistance in the slightest.

 Sans rarely ever left her side since she arrived here, but today was one of those extremely rare occasions where he was forced to.

 Her skeletal pal had to run errands and leave her all alone for several hours – the supply of food in the house was running dreadfully low, so much so that the cabinets and fridge were practically empty. This was a task that must be done, Sans bitterly lamented, and he resolved to get it done and over with as quickly as possible so he could return to his dearly beloved human.

 Frisk did enjoy his presence, immensely so, but she also had to admit to herself that it was nice to finally have some alone time. The girl decided to take this opportunity to further explore the house in ways she couldn’t before. Like the basement that he was so determined to keep her out of. Every time she asked about it, he always gave her a different excuse as to why she shouldn’t wander down there when she pressed him enough. It was dirty down there, it was cold, it was dusty, she could get hurt...

 But something was calling her to it.

 She waited at least half an hour after Sans had left to begin her private research – just in case he forgot something and came back. She couldn’t have that. This felt so childish, a part of her argued, and perhaps it was. But as much as she adored him, Frisk was more than a bit put off with the way that he would sometimes treat her like an incompetent clumsy child that needed to constantly be looked after. Sans knew she wasn’t one and he had let her know on more than one occasion that he acknowledged this, but that didn’t stop him from babying her far more than necessary. Sometimes, she genuinely enjoyed it. And other times, it became annoying. And the past few days, it had been annoying.

 This was her tiny little slice of revenge! And Sans would never have to know, because it’s not like she would ever see him again after all this was over anyway...

 Frisk had previously pondered just how she was going to escape the Underground and return to the surface when she finally got around to doing it, and just where the rest of the Underground even was... and now she knew where to begin.

 At the end of the long, empty, hallway that Sans had frequently claimed was a basement, was a massive set of doors.

 There was a chilling air emanating around and from beyond them, so he hadn’t been completely misleading her about that. Everything else, though? Frisk now acknowledged that he had been more or less lying to her - and the worst part about that was, there was absolutely no reason for him to, as far as she understood.

 This discovery shouldn’t have been anything to obsess over, but she couldn’t help but feel a slight sting of betrayal.

 With nothing else to gawk at down here, she spun on her heel and headed back upstairs to continue her investigation.

 The next item on her list was to traverse the other room that was branded taboo for her to enter. Not Sans’s room, no; she was almost always welcome there. The room at the very end of the hallway next to the mirror with the sign hanging on it that said ‘room under renovations’. It was entirely possible and believable that it truly was being reconditioned, but she’s had a hunch ever since she first laid eyes on it that there was something more to what lied beyond that door, something mysterious that the normally kindly skeleton didn’t want her seeing or bearing knowledge of.

 Well, Frisk was never one to follow directions to the exact letter.

 And it wasn’t like the sign placed on the door was telling her not to enter. The very same could be said of her visiting the lower level of the house. Sans had never once directly instructed her not to enter either, so there was no fault to be found in doing so.

 At least, this is what she tried to convince herself of as she twisted the knob, the guilt for merely touching it flooding her system. She could make all the excuses she wanted, bring forth all the technicalities that existed surrounding what she was doing, but deep inside her heart and SOUL, Frisk knew that this was wrong, that she was invading a space that Sans didn’t want her to step foot into.

 ...But that still didn’t stop her from doing it.

 The people that frequented her life in the past had often told Frisk while growing up that her curiosity would one day bring about her undoing. Perhaps they were right about that – she wouldn’t have gotten herself into this entire situation in the first place were it not for her inquisitive nature. Curiosity may indeed kill the cat, but the latter half of the saying was so often forgotten or dismissed.

 And right at this moment in time, Frisk was once again treading into dangerous territory in her never-ending quest for satisfaction.

 The door let out a slow creak that echoed horribly throughout the hallway, causing her to jolt and search for any sign of her caretaker while simultaneously struggling to formulate a believable justification for what she was doing before regaining her bearings and reminding herself that Sans was nowhere inside the house.

 Tentatively, she tiptoed into the dark room.

 The light that was cast from the hallway provided some much-needed illumination; she could see a wooden trunk of some sort next to a small child-sized bed, no two. One was decorated in blue sheets, and the other orange. Stepping closer, Frisk spotted something carved into the headboards of each. She inspected the blue one first – ‘Sans’ was chiseled in pretty cursive writing, accompanied by little artistic whittlings of bones.

 This must have been his old bed from when he was a babybones, she thought with delight – after constantly being dwarfed the big guy for so long, it was almost impossible for her to imagine that he had ever been that small!

 The second bed must have been his brother’s, then. Where his name had been on the first, the name ‘Papyrus’ was scrawled.

 She wondered what had caused the two brothers to separate. She hadn’t asked Sans about it, hadn’t even mentioned his brother again after that one time, since the subject seemed to deeply depress him.

 She doubted that this tiny bedroom would provide her with any answers, but Frisk wanted to look over everything that was present regardless.

 The girl then turned her attention towards the chest that was situated between the two beds; there was a lock on it, she noticed despairingly. Was the key somewhere in this room? Or was it hidden in Sans’s? Or perhaps elsewhere in the house? After a swift but thorough search, she decided that it couldn’t be anywhere here.

 It was time to search Sans’s room.

 Meticulously, she poked through his belongings, making certain that everything was in its exact place prior to her tampering with it before moving onto another area. She peeked under the king-sized bed, in the compartments of his desk, even his sock drawer (scandalous!), and caught not a single glimpse of the key she was seeking. Just as she was considering giving up on her curious quest, sitting on the bed with an irritated huff and a pout, a sudden thought, or rather a heightened sense of intuition came to her. And with it followed a burst of determination to finish what she had began.

 She then stood up and immediately thrust her hand beneath the mattress, groping the space between the fabric case and the rest of the bed until her fingers touched something cool and metallic. Frisk clasped her fingers around it and withdrew her arm from the cushiony confine and found that the object was indeed a key. Perhaps not the one she was looking for, but a key nonetheless.

 She sprinted back to the chest and jammed the key into the lock; it fit perfectly, and when she twisted it, the latch came undone with a satisfying click. Setting both to the side, Frisk then lifted the lid to the trunk.

 Inside it was... clothes. A lot of clothes. Specifically children’s clothes. Nothing too surprising, seeing as she was currently standing in what for all intents and purposes appeared to be the brothers’ childhood bedroom, but something felt... strangely off to her about them.

 She pushed the garments out of the way, rummaging through the contents of the trunk for anything else of interest; she uncovered one other thing – a book.

 Opening the cover revealed it to be a photo album. Frisk flipped through the pages, barely stifling the squeal that threatened to escape at the adorable sight of Sans as a small chubby child – she would swear her heart skipped a beat. The photographs in front of her were so precious that they almost hurt her heart!

 Taking the album, Frisk sat down on the floor to get more comfortable as she witnessed more scenes from his life. One that particularly stood out was little Sans grinning as he was being held by a much taller and older skeleton with one arm, while another one with small beady eyes was slung over his other shoulder, giggling. Underneath the photo was written in that same exquisite cursive writing, ‘I take a day off to spend with Sans and Papyrus! It’s obvious they’ve missed me a lot, even though I’ve been right there with them this entire time...’.

 Frisk felt her heart throb a bit again, this time out of sadness – this family was so happy in the past. She may not know their entire story, but whatever happened to them wasn’t fair at all.

 More and more photos of the two young brothers and this other skeleton appeared. In many of them, the adult brother was wearing a robe and crown, with the boys wearing similar regal finery. It was only when she saw a picture of the three, all sitting on extravagant thrones in the backdrop of what most definitely seemed to be a castle that the ball dropped.

 If this man was indeed the kind of monsters... then that made Sans a prince.

 At once, a pathway to a possible answer, though still foggy in places, had been revealed to her; a reasoning as to why Sans had chosen to live here after he fought with his younger brother. Sans had previously mentioned that his older brother adored humans. After he passed away, the two must have had a disagreement involving this. Sans clearly loved them as well, and though he should have been next in line for the throne, it was entirely plausible that monsterkind rejected his rule because of this.

 However, what she next discovered on the following pages caused her blood to run cold.

 There were photos of Sans, now an adult, posed alongside children. Human children. She counted six different ones, three boys and three girls, with none ever appearing in the same picture together. But perhaps the most startling thing of all that she became aware of was that the clothes they wore were identical to the ones stowed away in the trunk where she had found the album.

 ...What happened to all these children?

 They escaped the Underground, Frisk attempted to convince herself so she wouldn’t lose her mind. But a terrible ache in the pit of her stomach argued otherwise. If they had successfully returned to the surface, then why would their belongings be here? Something had happened to them, that much her heightened intuition was certain of.

 ...But surely Sans didn’t have anything to do with it.

 ......Did he?

 She didn’t have to ponder over this for long, because the sudden creaking of the door behind her alerted Frisk to the presence of another. There he was, the very monster she had just begun to doubt, standing there at the doorframe, having caught her rummaging through his personal belongings in a room that he had all but explicitly stated through thinly veiled hints that he wanted her to stay out of and away from.

 His expression was unreadable to her. He gazed at her with wide, empty sockets, his usual grin entirely absent on his face – his mouth was set in a firm line that conveyed no emotion whatsoever. Sans didn’t say a word, didn’t move a single bone that composed his skeletal body. He just stared at her with those giant vacant black holes in the front of his skull.

 And Frisk then knew that what she had done, had utterly broken him.

 “Sans... I...” She spoke, her voice near unintelligibly faint, but after a few more seconds of silence, Frisk gave up on any attempt to explain herself – there was nothing to say, nothing she could say to make this situation she had created any better.

 He took one step towards her and she flinched. At this, the round white lights in his sockets returned, their appearance comparable to twin full moons in a starless night sky. They were large and gave off the impression of being unbearably sad, and the thin line of his mouth had morphed into a deep frown that dragged down the corners of his mouth further than she’d ever seen them before.

 “...it’s not what you think.” He whispered, his voice sounding unnatural and croaky, as if holding back a sob. “i swear, it’s not. i didn’t do anything to them, frisk.”

 She clutched the photo album closer, wrapping her arms around its cover and pressing it against her chest as if it were a lifeline. She didn’t move, aside from her trembling. She was firmly locked into place while being subjected to his probing gaze.

 “...What happened to them then, Sans?” She fearfully questioned, her inquiry leaving her lips as nothing more than a murmur. “Who are these children?”

 “...they were mine.” He said at last, taking a shuddering breath. “they were like you – they fell down here and i took care of them. they stayed a while, and then they left me. ...and then i never saw any of them again.”

 “...Where are they now?” She asked, as if she didn’t already know.

 He mumbled something unintelligible.

 “I can’t hear you, Sans. You’re... you’re going to have to speak up if you want me to understand what it is that you’re saying...”

 His shoulders were shaking, violently so. His tightly closed fists were clenching the fabric of his robe so roughly that it threatened to tear.

 “Sans...?”

 “for the love of god, frisk! don’t make me say it!”

 His sudden shout caused her to cry out in alarm, letting out a short shriek of fright as she looked into those usually gentle, sleepy, and loving sockets that now displayed nothing but indescribable anguish, boundless sorrow, and unbridled fury.

 Frisk didn’t push him further for an answer, but he gave her one regardless.

 “you want to know where they are now, what happened to them?!” He hissed, his expression contorting to a hateful grimace as he thundered towards her. “they’re dead, frisk. they died... and he was the one that killed them!”

 “Who?!” She inadvertently yelped, shambling backwards to put some distance between them until her back inevitably hit the wall.

 “the king of monsters! the ruler of the underground! papyrus! my brother!” He howled in agony, his head tipping backwards with his scream while hot tears poured endlessly down his cheeks. “he killed every single one of them! one after the other! he made it law for any human discovered in the underground to be executed! and he didn’t show any of them the slightest shred of mercy, even though they were just children and he knew they were mine!”

 At the end of his outburst, Sans then collapsed onto his knees, pounding the wooden flooring underneath him with his fists as though doing this would lessen the pain he felt inside by even the smallest of amounts.

 He wouldn’t look at her, his head hung low as he glared at the floor with as much hatred as he could muster.

 “before our older brother passed, all he asked of us in his final moments was to love them, the humans. to grant them mercy despite everything... despite what the humans had done to him...” He said with a wet sob. “papyrus was angry... and i was too. but i respected him enough to obey his last request. it’s what he would have wanted. not... not this! he never would have wanted humans to die and another war to be declared in his name! i knew that, so i don’t know why papyrus would think that senseless violence and bloodshed was what he would have wanted as a direct result of his own death, when what he requested was the exact opposite!”

 Somewhere during Sans’s speech, Frisk had begun wailing herself, filled with remorse and regret.

 She had wanted answers... but not like this.

 She hadn’t expected her baneful curiosity would eventually lead to him becoming so upset that he would be reduced to a bawling puddle of bones before her very eyes.

 “I’m sorry...! I’m so, so sorry, Sans!” She sniveled, shamefully burying her face into her hands.

 She would have fully understood if he slapped her for betraying his trust the instant his back had been turned and causing him to relive such unpleasant, traumatic memories. What she didn’t understand was him weakly crawling towards her before gathering her trembling form in his arms, holding her close to him as if she were the most important thing in the world.

 “...you know what this means, don’t you, frisk?” He mumbled throatily as he nuzzled the top of her head with his nasal ridge. When she didn’t respond, he continued, “you can’t ever leave this place, frisk. you can’t ever leave me... because the moment you do, the moment the other monsters find you, they’ll kill you.”

 “...I can’t ever go to the surface again?”

 “no, pumpkin. i’m sorry...”

 “But...” Any protests that she may have had instantly died on her lips.

 “i know this is a lot to take in, pumpkin. i said so before, that i really do believe if the rest of the monsters got to know you, if they would only give you the chance, they would grow to love you. ...but i thought the exact same of them, the children...”

 “You... You told me that it would be three and a half months...” She recalled aloud, eyes wide. “You said it would be three months and a half months until I could move. Until I could leave-”

 “i never said then that you could leave!” He cut her off, his expression and tone severe. “i said that’s how long it would take for you to make a complete recovery. ...i never once mentioned the possibility of you leaving the ruins.”

 “But you led me to believe that I could.” She argued, a hint of accusation in her own tone. “...Just when were you planning on telling me the truth? About all of this?”

 “i... i was going to, believe me, i was!” His front teeth bit down on the bottom of his mouth, a trait of his that manifested when under extreme stress. “it’s just... it seemed as if you enjoyed being with me. i thought... why bring up such a grim topic when you appeared perfectly happy?”

 “I was happy... Being with you, Sans... every day felt like something to look forward to. You’ve given me perhaps some of the happiest moments of my life so far.”

 “so naturally, you would want to leave me.” He bitterly spat, aiming a spurned pointed glare at her as he sarcastically added, “oh, i understand. i understand perfectly why you would want to leave now, frisk.”

 “Sans-”

 He abruptly grabbed her face, cradling her cheeks with his big skeletal hands, forcing her to look at him.

 “would staying here really be as horrible as you obviously think it will be? because... because your only other option here... is death! would you really rather die a senseless death than stay here with me? is that the point that you’re trying to get across?!”

 “Sans, you know that’s not-”

 “then what?! what have i done wrong?!”

 He was getting hysterical again, Frisk realized. She needed to say or do something that would settle him down.

 “Sans, you’ve done nothing wrong.” She calmly lied, patting his still quaking shoulders consolingly. “This is... This is just a lot to take in at once, like you said. I think I might just need some time for it all to sink in. Can you give me that? Some time?”

 “......ok.” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “if time is all you need, i can give you that. i’ll... i’ll give you anything you want, frisk. anything within my power and the bounds of reason. just... please don’t leave me!”

 She didn’t say anything else; she just continued to soothingly stroke his bones until he regained his composure. By the time he did, it was late. And after all of that crying, both agreed that it was almost time for bed. Sans had cooked dinner for them, but Frisk told him that she had lost her appetite. He believed her excuse, but then told her that she was eating double portions at the breakfast table to make up for the lost meal.

 For a long while after having headed back to the guest room, Frisk just laid back on the bed, arms held behind her head, staring up at the ceiling.

 Waiting.

 After no less than two hours had passed, this was when she decided to make her move. She climbed off the bed and took one last look at her surroundings that had become so familiar to her these past few months... then carefully crept down the hallway.

 When she reached Sans’s room, she pressed her ear against the door and stilled her breath, listening. He didn’t snore when he slept, she had learned that some time ago, but he did audibly mumble. About what, she wasn’t entirely sure. Sometimes his murmuring made some amount of sense and on other occasions it was utter nonsense, but the meaning of his unconscious soliloquies wasn’t what she needed to dwell on.

 No, what she couldn’t forget, the single thought that wouldn’t leave her mind and likely wouldn’t for some time was – Sans had drugged her.

 It was the tea that he had fed her immediately after she had mentioned leaving several days ago, this she was sure of. She had become weak and lost consciousness shortly after swallowing it. It had seemed like a mere coincidence then, but now, after having witnessed firsthand his desperation to keep her here...

 He may have had the best of intentions in doing so, but she couldn’t be around someone that would drug her, no matter how remorseful he was about it.

 Now certain that he was deep in sleep, Frisk then made her way towards the descending staircase. Her heart hammered inside her chest with every step she took, but she had managed to make it down into the hallway underneath the house without making any noise.

 As she rounded the corner, Frisk let out a long, soft sigh she hadn’t been aware she was holding. It was only a matter of time before she left this place behind, forever, and then it would be a fight for her own survival.

 But despite how terrifying Sans had made it sound...

 Frisk felt determined. Determined that she could survive the trials that awaited her in the Underground and reach the surface.

 But this sudden spark of determination was immediately snuffed out when she saw who was waiting for her at the end of the hallway.

 “this is the second time today that you’ve broken my trust, pumpkin.” Sans’s voice was unsettlingly calm considering the situation. “we’ve still got some time left until midnight – want to try and make it a third?”

 ...Where had he come from? How could he have made it to the doors before her when he would have had to of passed her in order to do so?

 “...I thought you were asleep.”

 “i could say the same for you.”

 “How did you know? Were you awake the whole time and heard me in the hallway upstairs? Did you know the exact moment when I got out of bed?”

 “no, i was definitely asleep. i didn’t hear a thing. but i felt it. i could feel you getting further and further away from me...” Sans’s left hand rose up to clutch at the fabric of his robe directly atop where his heart would be, if he had one. “...you’re really doing a number on my SOUL tonight, you know that, right?”

 “Sans, let me go.”

 “no! i’ll never let you go! i can’t! what part of certain death lying beyond this door are you not comprehending?!”

 “I think I can make it to the surface, Sans.” She tried to remain firm with her resolution, standing her ground against him. “Those other humans did die before me, but they were children-”

 “yes! you’re absolutely correct! they most certainly were children!” Came his dry, barking laughter. “and if monsterkind wouldn’t show mercy towards an innocent child, what makes you believe they would towards a stubborn adult woman?”

 “I... I don’t know! I just think I can-”

 “they all said the exact same thing! they all believed they were unstoppable...” He scowled at her, one of his pupils disappearing and the other turning a brightly glowing blue. “and i was convinced that this was true. all of their deaths were the result of my negligence. their demises are entirely my mistakes. ...but i won’t be making that same mistake again.”

 Sans then raised his hand and a red heart, cartoonish in shape, burst from her chest. Its color then changed to a deep blue, and an unanticipated weight fell over her, not unlike the one that came when she consumed his drugged tea. She found it incredibly difficult to move, but not impossible.

 Frisk took a few staggering steps towards him, towards the door. However, the girl was stopped in her tracks when she was magically lifted up into the air. She struggled to shake off the invisible grip his mysterious power had over her, but it was no use.

 “Sans, put me down!” She hissed, narrowing her eyes at him in warning, but he wasn’t even looking at her.

 He was looking down the hallway, where both of them had come from. He then began walking in that direction, with her still dangling in midair.

 “Are you... Are you seriously going to leave me here like this?!” She yelped.

 “of course not. it’s cold here.” He huffed, motioning her body forward with her having no choice but to obey his command.

 “What... What are you going to do to me, then?” She fearfully inquired, causing his hardened gaze to soften just slightly.

 “the first thing i’m going to do is put you to bed for the night. ...i’m not going to hurt you, pumpkin, if that’s what you’re thinking. never.” He assured her in his usual low and gentle tone. “...but if you insist on acting like a child, then i’m going to treat you like one until you can behave like the grown woman you actually are.”

  As she was being dragged away, Frisk took one last look at the door that separated the Ruins from the rest of the Underground, knowing that she wouldn’t be seeing it again for a long, long time, if ever.

[missholoska]

At long last, it’s the goats’ time to shine ✨🐐

(For anyone unfamiliar with my Swap content, see the character sheets for Papyrus & Sans, Undyne & Alphys, and more about Underswap MH here!)

Before the usual further rambles under the cut I want to properly explain one little detail in Asgore’s info box: Asriel being his nephew. I didn’t change this just for the sake of it! It has to do with everyone's roles and actions making sense to me and keeping certain details intact, and I'll talk about it more in Asriel's character sheet but here's the shortest way I can explain it:

Basically Asriel being alive in Underswap and still being Toriel and Asgore's son without any of them aging doesn't really make sense to me, and physical distance doesn't seem enough reason for none of them to have aged a day in 100 years, as Boss Monsters should. I've also seen (and liked) some Swap takes where Asriel instead has only a distant relation to the Dreemurrs or even none at all, but speaking purely for my Underswap it just feels kinda sad for him to have nothing to do with them.

So my middle ground for both of these points is Swap MH Asriel is their nephew instead, allowing him to have a close family bond with both Dandelion and Orchid without any of them aging, and lets him be separate enough to live his own life in Snowdin in UT Monster Kid's role. His parents are dead and about as relevant as MK’s biological parents, which is uh. not at all, but that’s just how it's gotta be.

As I've often said with Underswap MH, I don't mind if this doesn't appeal to everyone! I know it might be odd even with thought-out reasons for it, but in the end I'm still just doing what I want with my version.

anyway on with the enormous amount of extra info for these two:

Because they have no biological children (and to be clear, it's not that they can't have kids, they just didn't), Dandelion and Orchid are physically younger than their UT counterparts. Personally I don't think they were that old when they gained their Boss Monster immortality and I headcanon UT Asriel as 10 when he died, so I see UT Toriel and Asgore as being physically around their late 30s and early 40s respectively.

It took a while to figure out why Orchid would ever kill the six humans because it always felt out of character for a Swap Toriel who retains some of UT Toriel's personality. I can't see her killing anyone voluntarily at first, but UT Toriel is able to kill UT Frisk accidentally, so likewise killing the first human to fall after Swap Frisk was not intentional. She still tried to reason with every human who faced her, but being unable to convince them to stay in the Underground in peace and already having blood on her hands, was resigned to her duty.

On Dandelion's side of events, he still has UT Asgore's traits of being prone to anger in grief and somewhat cowardly about his duty, hence him still calling the declaration of war on humanity but then backing out on it. Feeling like he'd betrayed the memory of their children and knowing he'd hurt Orchid emotionally, he exiled himself to Ruins, assuming that in his absence she would call the war off again.

Orchid's reason for not using a human soul to cross the barrier (i.e. exactly what UT Toriel calls Asgore out on) is that taking the first child's life traumatised her on top of her grief in not wanting to follow the doomed footsteps of her adoptive children. As she's still Toriel she still considered doing exactly that, but wasn't emotionally capable of it and is very aware of her hypocrisy.

...basically if you think the eternal fandom slapfights over whether Toriel is just as bad as Asgore or either of them did nothing wrong are a mess, it's definitely even more complicated in Underswap MH. They both made wrong decisions in grief, but in the end both deserve mercy too.

Orchid's throne room, rather than being covered by a bed of golden flowers, features the same black tree seen in front of UT Toriel's home, with red leaves covering the floor (meanwhile the Ruins has no red leaves). Her throne sits directly in front of the tree and the room is darker, and the original game's room of coffins in New Home is nonexistent as Orchid buried the fallen humans in the throne room to show them what respect she could.

Instead of trying to destroy the Ruins' exit like UT Toriel, Dandelion leads Chara there when they ask to leave and tells them the monsters on the other side will try to kill them. He apologises and says it is his fault for that, and the least he can do is give them the choice to stay with him in safety or prove that they can survive out there, and as mentioned above they can always change their mind and come back.

Dandelion could hypothetically still do the orange/blue eye-flashing attack UT Asgore does, but doesn't because he's the tutorial boss. In Orchid's battle, the orb of her sceptre flashes orange or blue before she attacks with flames of the same colours (she'd also destroy the mercy button with a column of fire).

I spent too much time thinking about whether Orchid should still speak without contractions like UT Toriel, because speech styles are mostly swapped but it's such a Toriel thing, so... I decided her natural thoughts/spoken words still lack contractions, but she forces herself to use them fairly often to try and keep up with modern speech. Meanwhile Dandelion mostly speaks without contractions, but occasionally some slip out.

Given that I'm a Bigtime Soriel Shipper™ it's probably worth mentioning that the role equivalent of UT Sans and Toriel's friendship between Noodle and Dandelion remains platonic, primarily due to Noodle being aromantic. But Dandelion is panromantic and Noodle would definitely be his wingman if anyone took his fancy, and their bond is incredibly important to them both! They basically have one of those friendships where sometimes you just make small talk and chat about mutual interests, and sometimes you both unload your entire life's emotional baggage and support each other's mental health.

and yes because I have to give a mention to my beloved Swap Soriel: Neptune initially has no intention of telling Orchid about his feelings for her because he doesn't want to make their friendship awkward, but he ends up blurting out how much she means to him when she's feeling especially bad some time in post-pacifist. As mentioned above she doesn't feel the same at first and their friendship continues (no man has ever been as genuinely happy to be friendzoned as Neptune), but she begins to return his feelings before too long. There's actually so much more depth to their friendship I'd love to share immediately, but trust me it'll be much better in comic form ;v;

I've forgotten the flower meanings of dandelions I read while I was looking up yellow/gold flowers to name Asgore after, but most of the reason I chose that for him is because I see Asgore as part lion and he is very fine and dandy. As for Toriel, apparently purple orchids represent things like royalty, respect and dignity which sounded fitting!

I swear I absolutely will not let my current pattern of procrastinating on the next character sheets for a whole entire year continue, I want to get the last three done much quicker!! Chara and Asriel will be next :D

[undertalethingies]

An Offer You Can’t Refuse

Alphys liked to run away from her problems. Case in point: She’d been dodging ring related thoughts for years now. She… She was pretty sure Undyne would say yes. After all, though she couldn’t figure out quite why, Undyne clearly liked her quite a bit. Once they’d gotten together, and she’d extricated her head from her ass a bit, it had been rather obvious, in hindsight.

But the ring, what the ring symbolised was… Too much, in a way. She felt like, if she asked Undyne to be with her forever, it would break the uneasy truce she seemed to have with her poor luck. She felt like, if she told Undyne she wanted it, Undyne would finally realize how out of Alphys’ league she was, and she’d leave. 

She knew, of course, that this was the anxiety talking.

...It didn’t really help.

Undyne, of course, would probably never take the initiative to ask herself, because, while she liked to project an air of courage and daring, she had no idea what to do the second the courage was emotional, rather than asking her to suplex a mountain or something. 

It was why they’d taken so long to get together, why it had taken the intervention of both Frisk and Papyrus, plus a chance encounter in the dump. 

But Frisk and Papyrus wouldn’t intervene here. It wasn’t something they could really intervene in. 

No, if Alphys wanted to marry her favorite fish, she’d have to get up the courage and do it herself. Her therapist would be so proud.

And it had been years! It wasn’t exactly now or never, Alphys had the time to get up her courage and no secrets beneath her lab.

So she went out and bought a ring. The ring was a replica of one in one of her favorite animes, and she had to get it specially ordered, but she bought a ring.

She had to get Sans’ help for the next part, since it was something only he could do, with his highly unusual magic.

And then she was ready, and she really, really wasn’t, and her fear screamed in her ears and her insecurity turned her numb, but she was already walking with Undyne, she was already aware of Sans’ quiet presence nearby, and then they were in the dump.

“U-Undyne,” she said quietly, the serious edge to her voice stopping Undyne and her tirade against skeleton pranksters dead.

“What is it, Alph?”

“We’ve known each other for a decade, now, and we’ve been together for seven years of that,” her voice caught in her throat, but it was okay because she managed that entire sentence without stuttering.

She got down on one knee, and Undyne gasped as she pulled the ring box from her pocket.

“I-I think it’s, it’s time w-we, uhm,” She couldn’t get the rest of her carefully prepared speech around the lump in her throat, but it was okay because Undyne is grinning and hugging her, and it really was the anxiety talking, because that was not the expression of someone who was about to say no, and-

“YES! YES A THOUSAND TIMES, AND A THOUSAND MORE TIMES!” 

Alphys didn’t even complain as she was hoisted into the air and spun at a dizzying speed, because who cared if she got a little dizzy? She couldn’t very well get more dizzy than she already felt, riding the adrenaline high that came from the immediate and ecstatic answer to the question that had been plaguing her for half a decade.

Alphys like to run away from her problems, but this, she decided, was definitely worth the fear that came with facing one.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty One | It's Showtime! (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"Should I… Should I give up Frisk's custody?"

"What?"

Having that be the first thing the human asks when arriving at the Judgment Hall surprises him the right amount to make that 'what' come off as a shout. It resonates throughout the echoey room, giving rise to the noise and causing them to flinch and stop walking. At that, Sans sighs and excuses himself; strain arrives in his voice as he corrects himself with, "Why do you think that? Isn't the kid happy with you?"

They avoid his irises and stare at the newly laid-out benches around, these a product of the changes being made to the Underground, and ones they suggest sitting on while they talk. It's obvious they're stalling for time, so he doesn't speak and only follows them there. One glance at the bitter look in their eyes and the sheer uncertainty of their frown makes him stay that way -- waiting for them to act first. Not even the bright light that seeps into the room is enough to shake them out of their distant gaze. Their steps are soft and slow, barely causing an echo as they walk, vastly different from his own set of footsteps. Being any more cautious and quiet would mean they would disappear out of the room entirely. Were he not walking along with them, their presence would be hard to distinguish from the vast emptiness of the place. Even the benches don't suffice to fill out the space surrounding the Hall.

"I'm not sure anymore," they finally reply, tone as icy as their choice of words. He sits next to them and lays a hand over their knee, one he squeezes tight as a way of comforting them. "Toriel seems like someone better fit for that role, so if she holds the same feelings she had about adopting Frisk as she did the first time, then maybe… That's all for the best?" Their voice trembles, though they continue with, "What do you think, Sans?"

The monster pulls his hand back and lets their question simmer in his thoughts for a while.

"Do ya really wanna know?" he asks, meeting their gaze.

"...Yes." Their reply is as weak as the light in their eyes.

Again, Sans gives himself some time to think, needing that more than ever now that they hold him up to such a delicate question. He doesn't want to sugarcoat anything, but -- similarly -- he doesn't want to hurt them further than they already appear to be. A happy medium would be the best choice, though he doesn't know what that is, exactly. Truthfully, he was growing biased whenever it came to talking about them; he was besotted, no doubt, and -- if matters kept on this way -- he had to scold himself for letting his feelings conflict with his job. Seeing them blue was the last thing he wanted, but some things are easier said than done. If they required an honest answer, he had to deliver it. Masking faults wouldn't do any good, in the long run.

"I think you're a pretty wonderful parent. It's the overthinking and overprotective part that you've gotta work more on. Other than that, then you should take that promise you made seriously, so that you can improve and find more strength to avoid those doubts." His hands make their way to their waist as he brings them closer to him. He then sits them on his lap, smiles, and leans in, looking up with that same, yearning visage afterwards. "...And someone easy to love, despite that stuff." His desire to kiss them grows stronger by the second, yet he's aware it's best not to try that currently -- not now, of all times. The human was still healing; his wants could wait for their needs. "I like being around you -- with you. And while I know Tori's a good mother, you're a good parent, too. You deserve to keep being Frisk's parent, just as they deserve having a parent like you."

By all means, this has to be the riskiest move he's pulled so far, and with awful timing, too. He overlooked plenty of factors before placing them on his lap, and -- now -- he's beginning to consider if that's the best thing he could've done. Their hands have difficulty finding a safe area to land on without making him tense up, and the same goes for their sitting position, this one just as stiff as they try to get comfortable without doing the opposite to him. Still, they stay firm in place and smile back, something that doesn't last long when they say, "I've made too many mistakes, and I've... I've bothered way too many people. I can't even feel mad about arguing with Brenda without then feeling guilty seconds later, k- knowing she did so much to pull me out of that bog. I don't deserve to be forgiven." Their hands press against his chest and grab tight onto his shirt, squeezing at the fabric to tug him closer against them. "It's not right."

The monster tries to catch another look at them, though the human refuses by looking down, gaze cast on their lap. "That's on the people you've hurt. You don't get to decide whether you deserve their forgiveness. Or do ya?"

Their hold on him roughens. "Of course not."

"Then why think that? What makes you think Frisk doesn't like you -- or Brenda? Or pretty much... anyone else?"

Sans gets even closer, leading them to press a hand against his shoulder in a weak attempt at gaining that space back.

They look at him afterwards, eyes focused on his teeth. "Do you want to ki-"

He does that before they can even finish with their sentence.

The reminder he's yet to adjust to physical contact dawns on him when he kisses them.

His pulse skyrockets, and it's a challenge not to grow dizzy by his own actions. His hands lay awkwardly on their lap, but he tries to explore elsewhere to prevent that, making him end up holding their lower back. The warmth and softness of their body is a grand contrast from his, something he can feel to be more pronounced when his hand strays to their waist, pudginess felt sharply against the roughness of his touch. He's lost track of how long the kiss has lasted, yet -- right as he's thinking about ending it -- they return it with twice as much fervour, tongue slipping into the space left between his parted teeth. Clumsy movements turn clumsier as he wonders what to do now that they're going beyond a quick and simple kiss, though he doesn't push them away. His soul fastens and he can hear their heartbeat with how close he is against them, the sole obstacle to keep him distanced being the reminder this is the last action he'll get for a while; if again, at all.

He shouldn't be doing this, and while his mind has that thought on repeat, he wants more.

"Doin' mouth-to-mouth again, are we?" an infamous voice comments, this one heard from close by. "Didn't know getting so touchy-feely and tongue-heavy was part of the process."

They get off his lap and stand up; their actions are immediate, even more so than his own. A guarded, almost wary look overcomes all the hard-earned calm they expressed before. Not an ounce of reluctance stays in their posture, and -- in comparison -- they appear plenty more defiant than anything else.

"You've fought all the way here, just to surrender now?"

Sans almost believes he's said that himself with how similar that voice is to his; it's rough and booming, and it arrives from the door of Asgore's old garden.

"This was all one cheap ruse, wasn't it? You never really were angry with any of the monsters, were you?" the same voice asks, his figure emerging from the door. "You've 'fought' with people like Toriel just to make yourself seem like you actually give a shit about your child, but you don't care at all." It's the same man from the bus; a small but no less weak army stands behind him, allowing him to act more confident than before. "If you did, I'm sure as hell you wouldn't be kissing a complicit in murder. You just want to hand the kid over to the first idiot you see and be done with them."

"Hey, bud," Sans says, standing up. "Watch it."

He takes a few steps forward until settling in the middle of the hall, preventing those by the door from getting any closer. "We came here for some quiet n' privacy," he then adds, zeroing his gaze on the man. "So please leave, so I can talk with 'em."

"You should watch what you say," one of the crowd says, stepping from behind the man. "Just what do you mean by 'privacy', exactly? Gonna get it on with that human? Though you were doing that just now, and you've done that before, too -- It makes no sense for you to want any 'privacy' now."

"I don't think I need to explain why me giving 'em CPR and me kissing 'em are two vastly different things." The skeleton continues to get closer, noticing the crowd's doing the same. "And I mean privacy, as in: what we need to talk about 'ere ain't none of your business," he states, gaze narrowing at the woman. "Leave us alone."

"As if we'll let you go," a different man says, joining the woman's side. "You might have (L/N) fooled with your 'feelings', but we're aware of the truth, and we refuse to let whatever this is keep going. Whatever cheap sob-story you told them to try justifying your actions won't work on us."

He glances back to the human when noticing they've grown quiet. They're still standing near the bench, though they soon face the crowd and say, "If you have a problem with that, you can talk to me directly. He has nothing to do with this." Then, they glare at the man, who remains unfazed even as they walk forward. "He's-"

Thud.

The sound follows right after he shields the human from the object hurled at them.

It rests in his hand, large, oval, and porous -- one of Asgore's heaviest garden rocks.

"Stop that."

Thud.

Three are thrown at the same time. Two Sans catches with ease, though one slips right past him and ends up hitting his company with a loud thunk. Worry over them being hurt fades when he looks to their side and sees they've caught the rock in their hand, creating a bruise in their palm -- one they hide in their pocket after shaking the pain away.

"Leave us alo-"

A crash follows before the third thud, leaving shattered glass by the opposite spot to where the man and his crew stand at. Shoes aid with not being cut by the shards as he gives his back to the crowd and inspects the source of destruction, though it's made clear the thud's come from another rock, this one the human didn't turn out successful in avoiding. Blood drips from the side of their face down to their neck, while the rock lays stained by the floor. Regardless, they say nothing and cover the wounded area with a piece of cloth they retrieve from their belongings. The cold look from before returns, but with ire and distaste -- all of that directed at the crowd rather than their own self.

"Say something," the man from the bus says, words aimed at (Y/N), who stays quiet all the while. "The hell's wrong with you?"

"Ditto." they state, lips straight and eyes dull. "You have no business being here. This is-"

"Then your Halloween-edition boyfriend has no business living up there, either."

"That's not what I meant." They approach the monster's side and stay close to him. "This place is dangerous. The walls are cracking, the ceilings are crumbling, and the floors are giving in. The only reason why the Underground isn't available to you is 'cuz it's being made a safer place for you to be in."

"Then why are you here, of all people?"

"I'm here to learn the truth before I decide what to do with Frisk's custody."

Sans tries to stay one step ahead of them, remaining wary over any other attacks. The man glares at him, though the greater part of his attention resides on (Y/N). Still, he nods at one of his companions to keep an eye on him, reminding the monster he hasn't yet forgotten about him.

"So why did you ask about giving up their custody?"

"Because I know I'm not adept enough to raise them with my current state of health. They deserve better."

Anger strikes in the man's eyes. He clasps his hands into fists and clenches his jaw. What keeps him from getting any closer is seeing Sans do the same.

"So you call Toriel better?" the man questions, words spat.

Something unknown ignites in the skeleton's soul, and while he assumes it's because two people he thought fondly of were being spoken ill of, the strength of that feeling makes him believe there's more to it than that.

"Asks the man who threw a rock at (Y/N)," he intervenes, against biting back his tongue.

Sans takes their hand and helps them sit back down on the bench, though he keeps an iris on the crowd and a thick shield around the human.

When finished, he stares back at the man and adds, "You have a minute to wrap things up and leave this place -- before I call for backup."

"Can't fight us alone, skelly?"

"I don't intend to."

He holds the human up in his arms and takes them to the first location he thinks of, all while ignoring those who try to challenge him as he teleports them out of the Judgment Hall.

• • •

"Are you and (L/N) safe? Please give them my deepest apologies. Truth be told, it has been rather difficult to communicate more often, now that my... jail sentence has doubled."

He rests his back against the wall, slumps, and closes his eye sockets for a moment.

"I'm fine," Sans replies, toying with the strings of his jacket. "They got hit by a rock, but other than that…" He glances at his bed, where they lay at as they hold an ice pack to their wound. They give him a quick thumbs-up, allowing him to continue with, "They're okay."

Asgore breathes out a sigh in what he can only assume to be relief. "Be sure to mention my name, if they ever require medical care."

"Got it. See ya later, old man."

"Farewell, Sans."

He sets his phone down and stares at it, gaze blank as he contemplates the situation.

(Y/N)'s question clings to his mind no matter how much he tries to convince himself they're fine.

If someone so devoted to their role as a parent had a thought as wild as that one, then what was keeping them from holding themself back?

What was keeping them from giving up the one thing they found a purpose in?

And if they hadn't brought it up, what would happen then?

"What did he-" The human interrupts themself with an 'ow' when they try to stand up. "What did he say?"

The monster sits next to them by the edge of the bed and leans in, using one hand to hold their cheek while the other keeps him stable -- hovered over their body. "Don't stress about that now," he says, voice quiet. "Just relax."

They smile and keep their cheek in his hand, though theirs places itself over his as they rub their thumb against it. "Worried?"

"It's the third time you've fallen ill in less than a year." He chuckles. "What do you think?"

"I think you need to join me in bed, then." They brush his hand away and extend their arms out -- as if waiting for a hug. "C'mere, babe."

He approaches them without dither, though he's careful not to be rough as he lowers some more and embraces them. Their arms grab his waist and lay him on the little space remaining next to them. The space he lacks they make up for by bringing him close -- enough for him to hear their heartbeat, along with each breath they take. "So are you still going by that agreement letter? Or did you really just bodyguard me?"

"Bodyguard?"

"Don't judge my word choice." They grin. "I'm dizzy and tired." A curious glint reaches their gaze when pulling their attention away from him to look around his room. "You're almost done moving, aren't you? The place looks empty."

"It's better now that you're here, though."

"You never miss an opportunity to do that, don't you?"

He winks. "That's about the last thing I wanna do when I'm around you."

They roll their eyes, only to then grab him by the shoulders and pull him closer. Their breath is overwhelmingly minty, revealing they've just about chewed the entire box of gum he'd seen them take out of their bag. Thankfully, it seems to have worked to some extent, as they don't seem as weak as they did when first arriving at his room. The mint's strength is what's keeping them awake and fighting the nausea shown after escaping through the use of his magic. "Are you really fine?" they ask, smile still there; it weakens, however, and they appear to recall something, confirmed with, "A- And God, I'm sorry. You said you weren't comfortable with making out, and I doubt you mentioned anything beyond kissing on the cheek, too, right? And yet, I… I went ahead and-"

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. I did something you clearly stated you didn't like before."

Sans pokes at their nose with his index finger, gaining an annoyed huff from their part. "And that was around two whole months ago," he says, grinning. "I barely knew much about my feelings back then, but now I understand them a lil' better, and… And what I'm comfortable with, also."

They don't humour him. On the contrary, they grab his finger and soon his entire hand as they force it into a fist. "But it's still important enough for me to remind myself of it." Finally, they push it away and lour. "You don't need to do any of this." Their forehead wrinkles and their body stiffens. "I was in the wrong-"

"For asking me if I wanted to kiss you? I was the one who cut you off mid-question for that."

He stands up and helps them do the same.

"Let's calm down for a moment and think this through."

The skeleton then places his hands over their thighs and looks up at them. "I'm still figuring myself out, but one thing's for sure: I like you. Even if I don't exactly know to what extent those feelings go, what I'm willing to do, and what I'm not, I like you, and I want to explore these feelings with you." They nod and stay silent as he adds, "The one who punched me at the bar -- that friend I told you about -- they had a crush on me for a long time, but I never really was one to care much for that kinda stuff. Then there's the occasional, rare crush I had on other people, but… It was always hard for me to distinguish whether those feelings were romantic or not." He stops to assess their expression and sees intrigue in their eyes. "I was more guarded at the time, since I still had that job at the Hall, and that involved me being a hell lot more distant than I am these days. But now that I've got more freedom to live and just, well… be, I've been able to figure things out about myself -- like how much I enjoy even the thought of having you by my side."

When something cold falls on his hand, he looks up at them to see tears in their eyes.

"Were you that worried about this, puddin'?" He can't contain a laugh when he sees them shed more tears after being asked that question.

They nod and press their lips tight together, holding themself back. "I don't want to screw this up. I… I like you, too, and it feels like… like I overstepped a lot of boundaries for a minute there."

"A kiss that you asked me about first?"

"But then I returned it and did things I wasn't supposed to."

"Did you actually ever ask me if I liked it or not?"

"Well, uh… No."

Sans takes their hand and brings it against where his soul can be felt beating.

"I was, frankly... overwhelmed, but it didn't feel gross or anything like that. And I didn't feel a need to stop or tell you to, regardless." He feels his face burn, and he's sure there has to be some evidence that his face is turning red, yet he doesn't hold back. "Did you forget what we went to the Hall originally for?" His smile widens. "Or did you forget to keep yourself in mind again?"

"It was to talk about my dream from earlier."

"But you still ended up talkin' about Frisk instead. And then I sat you on my lap and kissed you." He then brings their hand to his cheekbone. "Sounds selfish when I put it that way, doesn't it?"

They don't answer and choose to hide their face away against his chest. "Maybe? I… I wanted to kiss you, too, though."

"I did it knowing that dream you had was related to me -- and in a negative way, to boot."

Their hand lets go of his cheekbone and goes to place itself close to where they rest their face at.

"So let's plan something," he adds, holding their back. "Once we're done signing Frisk up in Tori's school, and once you settle things out with your job… We go on another date like the one we had at that hotel, and from there on, we can talk about that dream for real. You'll avoid bringing up stuff that's not directly related to your situation, while I'll avoid my urge to kiss you."

They let out a laugh. "Tell me more."

Sans complies with a grin. "So if everything's sorted out better by then, we can celebrate that accomplishment by having our actual first date -- but at my new place."

"You sure want me to visit you, huh?" they ask, smiling. "Is there… Is there maybe something important you want to tell me, teddy bear?"

He chuckles, winks, and pulls them closer with an arm around their shoulders. "You've read right through me, puddin'."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

IMPORTANT NOTICE

**TL;DR near the end of it**

Sans's (assumed) age (mentioned in Chapter Two) will be bumped from 22 to 29 to better fit his character and overall personality, as well as to complement the passage of time in both this story and its spin-off more adequately (more on that can be found on the author note in Chapter One of said spin-off).

The Reader's/you're meant to represent someone younger who's still learning how to live life and how to overcome slips ups and screw ups. Sans being 4 years older helps portray not only his character as someone who used to engage in science better, but to make the difference in knowledge and wisdom more evident between both the reader/you and him. So basically, if you've played Stardew Valley -- for example -- he'd be around the same age as maybe Harvey, Elliot, or Shane, since they're the most... mature-seeming of the bachelor bunch. Sam and Alex come off more as late teens, while Sebastian is more accurate to describe the age I once gave Sans in this story (don't quote me 100% on this topic, though -- I married Emily in the game and I'm pretty awful when it comes to comprehending videogame lore). A more obvious reason is that Sans seems more mentally sound despite the roughness of his circumstances in the game, something that can be hard to achieve if you struggle with mental health.

**TL;DR: Sans's age has been bumped up a few years to better fit his character and the plot of both stories.**

This was something an Ao3 reader brought up recently, too, so they essentially inspired me to finally make these changes! Please, help me.

• • •

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@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

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@merak0

[hoodie-lover]

My Multiverse Ask Event! #3

“UT sans why do you refuse to fight the human until they are level 19 in genocide route?”

“Because it is the only time it matters. Any other time I don’t have to worry about the world ending. If you were trapped in a world where nothing, almost nothing, you do matters, why do something that doesn’t matter? And I must say, the look on their face when I launched my first attack, and their faces afterwards, were worth it.” Sans said, smiling at the memory of their shocked face.

“Flowey if the human genocides you are aware they won't hesitate to kill you right? ps why not just pop up from the ground in the room with the human souls and take them?”

“I know. But I like watching everyone die, it’s funny as they try to stop an unstoppable threat, how they sacrifice themselves and whatnot. And if the human can beat Sans, Undyne, and slaughter almost every monster of all, why would the souls be able to do anything? Sure I could flee, but I am the Prince of the Underground, I’m going down with my ship.” Flowey said, his face appearing to be a mix of Asriel and his own before morphing back as he chuckled a sinister giggle.

“Frisk so your saying that your next reset will be a genocide if so is it because your possesses by chara or because your a bad person. ps if your possesed by chara during genocide why kill flowey knowing he is asriel? pps do you even make it to the surface after genocide?” “Chara is only there to make me remember my crimes, kill Asgore, and Flowey. And I’m not really a bad person per say, I’m just a kid having fun! And why would I return to the surface? The Underground is more fun. Asriel is dead, Flowey is someone new, and Flowey is pathetic.” Frisk said, smiling. “To all skeletons when you eat food where does it go? do you even have a stomach?” “We only eat magic-based foods so it is instantly absorbed. It just disperses and helps heal and stuff.” Papyrus said, making hand gestures to help explain it. “Error, when are you guys going to start looking for who Error once was? We can help! We know multiple versions of Error and many versions of his backstory to draw reference from. I'd start with G̵͈͇̙͖̰͇̠̥̱͍̅̿͌̀̋̄͛̇̽̒̄̿̄̑̈́̾͊̔̉̄͒̕ȩ̸̛̠̗͓̗̃̈́̏́͆̓̃̅̎͊̾̃̐͐̍̍͘͜n̸̢̢̛̲̬͎̱̘͍͎̗̯̘̭͉̦̓͗̓̓͂̀̈́̀͜͠͝͝ơ̵̢̗̼̳̥̞̱̺̭̠̅̐̐̾̽͋̋͐́̍͊̈́̈́͘͠. Trust me.” “What? We didn’t hear what you said.” Error stated, sipping some hot chocolate. Mini marshmallows danced on the surface. “Well, since you apparently can’t say who to start with, I guess we have no where to start from.” “How about we look at the timelines? Talk to the voices and see how long Error was there and what timelines had separated before and after then.” Horror said and Nightmare shrugged. “Sure.” In the Creator Realm, Maxie, Zack, Beatrice, Jana, and Jack were listening. “We all know it’s Geno right?” Maxie said and they nodded. “How about we drag this out? Make them suffer!” Jack said, and for once, Zack agreed. “It would be funny, just as long as they learn the truth eventually.” Zack said, earning a sadistic grin from Maxie. “Yay! I wonder if we can get some help in leading them astray?” Maxie said, calling over to the group asking the questions. “Wanna help us drag this out?” She asked. “UT sans when are you going to tell papyrus about resets?” “I already know. Though I have asked Sans the same question many many times.” Papyrus said, giving Sans a dirty look. Sans had come back from his sentry station for lunch. “You’d forget! Just because you know doesn’t mean you’ll remember. I’d figured out it was possible while looking through scans and other old work I look through every day. Plus knowledge of the multiverse helps.” Sans said, “I actually did tell you once, but it crushed your spirit. I didn’t want you to lose what made you, you. and I had a support group so I wasn’t handling it alone like I used to.” Sans said, Papyrus sighed in response. “UT sans how do you manage to put 29 hot dogs on a person's head and why not 30 hot dogs?” “Why not 28?” Sans said, and Papyrus groaned. “Ok ok I think we have embarrassed the boys enough, for now.... Dream any stories from your brothers past he would rather his boys not know about?” “YES!” Dream cried out and Nightmare tried to silence his brother, but he was tackled, bound, and gagged on the ground before he could make a sound. Everyone listened to Dream intently. “Nightmare, in the early days of our village’s founding, had a girlfriend.” Dream said, Nightmare thrashed on the ground as everyone gasped “Who?” Cross asked, eyes wide as he heard Chara snicker and make faces at Nightmare. “I don’t remember her, we didn’t really talk all that much, but what I do know is that,” Dream donned the smuggest and most evil smirk as he gave his brother a wicked glance, a twisted smile on his face. “Nightmare, lost his virginity to her.” Dream said and everyone went nuts. “Did he top?” Horror asked, and Killer laughed. “Was she a virgin too?” Dust cried out, looking at his struggling father. “She wasn’t, and I think he bottomed based on what he told me.” Dream said, genuinely puzzled. “So, how old were you?” Error asked, Dream thought about it. “We didn’t know at the time, as far as we’re aware, right now, we’re about 1200 years old, and the village was around for about 1,000 years, but she was about a young adult, maybe 20 or so.” Dream said, looking at his brother for confirmation. Tears were streaming down Nightmare’s face and Dream took pity on his sibling. “There, there, I only have one more to tell.” Dream said, picking up Nightmare and placing him on his lap as he cuddled him. “What’s the story?” Fresh asked, he was mostly silent but he was curious. “Nightmare’s first time drunk.” Dream said, and Nightmare froze as he tried to run away. “Nope.” Dream said, keeping Nightmare in place easily. “One day, I was given a present by someone, I don’t remember who they were. Nightmare girlfriend, Lily was her name, had long passed away by this point. They broke up but remained friends. It was a bottle of whisky, hardcore whisky.” Dream said, “Like Blue’s signature drink spiker.” Dream said and Blue gasped. “I do not spike drinks!” Blue said, huffing. “Sure.” Dream said, rolling his eyes as he continued. “Anyway, I wanted to share the gift with Nightmare, as I always did. I even broke apart, remade and regifted presents I recieved to Nightmare to make him feel better. So we drank the entire thing, Nightmare having most of it.” Dream said, clearly embarrassed. “If we had known, that night would have ended differently.” Dream told them. “Nightmare ended up singing a random song at the top of his lungs at the top of the tree. I was about to pass out most of the time. We never got drunk again, the hangover was bad.” “Ok back to embarrassing the boys, on a scale of 1 to 10 how cute is Error? this is for anyone that wants to weigh in on the Error cuteness scale. Also does he have glasses in this multi-verse and do they up his cuteness? Sorry Error you are my favorite!” “10.” Everyone said they had by this point released Nightmare. “I do have glasses, Nightmare gave them to me soon after they learned how bad my eyesight was, but I began to wear contacts when I started fighting with them.” Error said. “They were bigger and red versions of Harry Potter’s glasses, and they increase his cuteness to a solid twenty-six out of ten.” Cross said, smiling as Error blushed. “Oh I saw someone else mention how we know of many different Errors. I gotta say most of the Errors I have seen have been tortured horribly and are left in a pretty bad state. Are you sure you want to know where you came from? You can't ever go back to what you were before, and I don't want you to get hurt Error.” “I know. But, I want to know my story, I know I can’t go back, I know I have a Papyrus, Toriel, Alphys, Undyne, and all. But I never thought about it, and with the revelation that I’m an alternate timeline, I can dive a bit deeper. I know these people, and Killer, Horror, and Dust can help me. They know what it’s like.” Error said, “And I’m not asking to know about what you have put other me’s through, I can infer what you’ve done to them.” Error said, glaring. “Frisk, what do you think about the humans from other AU?s” “AUs? Do you mean, alternate universes? I was involved with many fandoms, so I know the term. Papyrus broke script last time, and Sans was acting odd a few years ago. Interesting. I must thank you, if I’m right, then I might be able to see my own handiwork again.” Frisk said. “Frisk, have you encountered Gaster yet? ps do you even know who Gaster is?” “I know who he is. Though he always disappears before I can say a word to him.” “Stretch, my tall orange jerk. How did you take the news that not only did Ink lie when he said the dark sanses took blue, but Ink was actually the one to take him and do some pretty bad things to our sweet little blueberry? What about when Ink had Dream hurt blue to keep him crashing? And how are taking Blue being more like Error now?” “I was mad, I wanted to kill him with my own hands. I let myself be fooled, and I can’t even blame myself half the time! I was just so powerless. I’m glad he’s dead.” Stretch said, grumbling as he blew out a puff of smoke. “I was ready to dust Dream right then and there, but Blue held me back. And the yellow squirt’s apology was overwhelming. I could barely go a day without a text or in-person apology, and when he finally earned my lack of distrust, we haven’t talked since aside from the occasional ‘hello’. And Blue had it worse.” “It took awhile for me to get used to Blue’s glitching. Sometimes he crashed and rebooted, those were scary and they still are. Error helped Blue and I adjust, helping us figure out Blue’s glitching triggers. Stress being a big one. I’m grateful for his help, though I may not like him.” Stretch said, lighting another cigarette. “And now the most important question ever asked... Who wants to join the Error protection squad? I'll make badges!” “ME!” Blue cried out, eyes glowing big and blue as he smiled. “Don’t forget about us!” Cross said and Error sighed as he buried himself in his outfit as everyone announced how they would join. “It’s ok Error. I’d defend you, but I don’t need a badge.” Dream said and Error smiled, he was glad his family would defend him. He felt safe, and he felt loved. “What is the worst timeline or version of this universe any of you have ever experienced? I mean, this is a multiverse. What are the darkest reaches of it?” “Aside from our own personal trauma, I think it was one of those torture AUs.” Nightmare said, and Cross snapped his fingers, realizing what Nightmare meant. “Yeah, where the people exist only to be beaten and broken, no hope, no dreams, no reason and will to live. There’s also HorrorLustFell.” Cross said and everyone shuddered. “‘Nough said.” Dust announced and everyone nodded. “Frisk you know a genocide is technically impossible because you never kill annoying dog ps what do you think of annoying dog?” “The annoying dog doesn’t count, and I never get to Alphys or the people she evacuated either. And the dog is cute, I want to cuddle them.” Frisk said, their face looking like an innocent child’s instead of a mass murderer.

Formatting is off because of glitching in my word processor. I have it fixed.

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