#see me hoping he’ll be in bad batch despite knowing his fate

[denimscotch]

Behold! THE Commander workaholic.

[memoriashell]

webs

Characters / Pairing: Muffet, some vague Mettaton / Muffet, some vague Undyne / Muffet, some Napstablook, and if you really squint you might see some Alphyne in the bg.

crossposted on ao3 ft. the full extent of my notes

Notes: Hi @roxrezi, I'm your secret santa! Since I quite love myself some Muffet, I thought I’d write something with her for you. I also really wanted to try writing some Undyne / Muffet and Mettaton / Muffet, and somewhere along the way I went from planing out something with everyone’s first holiday on the surface to... an exploration of various route endings and not at all holiday related. Whoops. This was also supposed to be a lot shorter, but here we are at 4k words instead. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! This was done as a part of @undertalesecretsanta . Thank you mods for all your efforts in hosting the event! 

Summary:  Webs are a sticky, tricky thing, really. Fortunately, spiders know how to untangle themselves from even the trickiest of webs.

( an apt way to view the branches of fate, really )

A human, they whisper, a human is coming. Get the soul and you will be rewarded.

And so, once again, Muffet finds herself with a renewed purpose. She has grown tired of fussy monsters who will not help her, of having to swindle for even a little bit to be thrown her way. She won’t need to bake for profit ever again if she succeeds. She can finally relax.

Soon. Soon she will have enough, and everything will be alright. The spider clan will be rich and able to be reunited, and they can all be happy together, and she will be happy too—

( — and this is the thought she hold onto when the frying pan slams down on her body ).

i.

The Ruins are ( mostly ) empty. Same goes for Snowdin, and Waterfall—

She wonders if they were bored by the time they got to Hotland. Despicable, really, but seeing as they hadn’t harmed her or her spiders, she can’t completely hate them either.

No, that is a lie, Muffet absolutely detests that human. Her spiders may come first, but that does not make her heartless when it came to other monsters. But she is a woman of her word, there was no reason to kill a human that had supported her cause.

( Was it wrong of her to have done so? Perhaps. Maybe then, there would be a little more liveliness left in the Underground, flashy and loud— )

Napstablook is generous enough to assist her with arranging help with getting the spiders out of the Ruins; the fact that, despite everything, her spiders can be reunited is barely a silver lining, but she’ll take what she can get. The fact that she can afford to bring them home hardly matters, when the Underground is so sparse and the Ruins are opened up once again. It’s not even nearly as much of a hassle, as cold as Snowdin is to travel through. Traps and puzzles are deactivated, there is no need for those things anymore, so there is little but the cold to slow her down.

The spiders are back home, where they should be. Hotland is more or less the same, minus two voices— one loud and glamorous, one not so. Everything should be fine, by those standards.

But it’s not.

It is not.

The world just does not feel quite right.

ii.

Every king needs their queen— no, that is a lie. Mettaton needs no one, if she is to be honest, but she is good at her job.

Muffet dangles from her web, flaunting— a menacing flash of her flash of her fangs. Intimidate their ‘foes’ into confessing their ‘crimes’— work that she could leave to that skeleton, sure, but Sans has always been lazy. She, however, never slacks off.

( Perhaps no real wrongdoings have been done, but it’s fine discarding a few extra ingredients from the batch. Better than letting them sit and go bad— rotten ingredients were never any good. It would spoil the whole batch!

Besides, her pet, her darling Cupcake needed a treat to be rewarded with. What better than something she needed to get rid of anyways? )

It wasn’t like she did not benefit from it either. Why would she serve a fussy customer— no, let her rephrase that: Muffet found no point, no joy in serving someone who did not service her needs too. Even when that someone was the ruler of the Underground, known for whispers of sudden disappearances; she had enough pride left that she would not let herself be squished under Mettaton’s heel like some pest. Her spiders had been brought home with his generosity, and it is oh so fun to watch monsters squirm when she watches them with two, four, five eyes, and claps in joy with her hands— that is a thrill unlike anything else, one that even the capturing of a soul surely wouldn’t have brought. It is not all bad, the monsters had never done anything to serve her, why should she spare them now?

( There is a reason why monsters do not come to her parlor anymore ).

No, while the spider monster might hold a grudge for none of them to be willing to help her cause, that was then and this is now. This is a matter of business, dearie, did you not understand that? Muffet coos and is amused in her tittering, as she watches confusion spread across features.

Spiders may live with her now, but that did not mean that some did not linger in other parts of the Underground. Allow for the whispers to reach corners and make its way back to her. It was always a fun choice to make, what to do with that information. Let one of the ‘agents’ handle this? Handle it herself? Do nothing with it?

( Those who enter the parlor do not usually leave ).

Of course, she can always hand the task over to Mettaton, but she usually left that for the worst offenses only. It was much more delightful to watch and wait to see how he’d react on such occasions, if it was worth making a mess of himself for. More often than not, the answer was yes, and she would make sure the webs were keeping the prey in place, maybe paralyze them if they seemed particularly rowdy, but otherwise sat back to admire his work.

Despite it all, she does not think he’s a bad person— would that not make her a bad person too? Muffet knows that once, he was not half a bad person, despite what one might believe; she was once not an entirely bad person either, despite her arguments that she has remained unchanged all these times.

It wasn’t their fault that they were like this, was it?

“Darling,” He beckons for her, so she lowers herself from her web, dropping herself from the sticky silk with ease and onto his lap. She hardly weighs a thing to a monster made of metal, two hands settling themselves on his shoulders, two others coming up to cup his face. “Have you heard the news?”

“Dearie.” She returns, a brief kiss; her eyes blink at him. “You are the news~” Which is, technically speaking, true. MTT News was the Underground’s news source. Perhaps not like what it once was, but still news.

The robot gives her a look that seems unimpressed, but she knows he’ll let her get away with it ( almost anyone else would’ve been too scared to even consider talking back, she enjoys such privilege with glee ). “You’ve been holding out on me. There was an incident on the edges of Hotland?”

Ah, that. Well, what can she say? She knows Mettaton likes keeping away from the lab. She shrugs, fangs peeking out as she grins. “Someone simply needed a dunk in the river, ahuhu~~” A forceful dip, perhaps, but what did the details matter. If he can read between the lines and figure out what exactly that all means, it does not show; of course, he is an actor, she would not be surprised if he knows exactly and simply opts to not speak of it.

“Well—” He starts, a pause, she’s caught him off guard. Hadn’t predicted her answer. A mechanical clearing of his throat, before he speaks again. “Well, that still calls for a punishment... or perhaps a reward?”

There’s a gleam in her eyes, a grin and a giggle before she’s pulling back. “Already a step ahead of you~ I brought them back for you speak to, fufufu~”

“Ah, now you’re speaking my language, gorgeous.”

( A butterfly and a spider trapped in a web—

—who is really the victim here? )

iii.

Humans aren’t so bad, she decides. She still lacks enough to bring the spiders back home, and they were still stuck in the Underground, but they weren’t dead. It’s not all bad. They made an effort to help her, which is more than she can say for some monsters.

The shy, nerdy one passes through, sometimes, to check up on her; and she will flash her fangs at the scientist and giggle as she scampers off. Other days Muffet will leave her web, willingly, to see the spiders now that the Ruins aren’t closed off.

One time, she leaves to go through to Snowdin, try and figure out if there is a good way to bring the spiders home. Even if she’s cold, at least the Royal Guard is there to help her.

( Which roughly translates to, at least the Canine Unit was there to try and play with her. And then went to fetch Papyrus when they realized she wasn’t interested in them, who in turn fetched Undyne, because Undyne was likely to be more helpful at assisting ).

Muffet likes Undyne ( only kind of like that ) because she’s to the point. She doesn’t bother with trying to skirt around things— time is money, as the saying goes, and while Muffet is not really that greedy with her money, she’d much rather not freeze to death out in Snowdin. Unfortunately, the former captain has very little advice to offer, since the main issue is the fact that the forest is big and the spiders would probably die before they even reached town. The cold is not a foe that can be fought, unfortunately; she laughs a little when the warrior offers to beat up the cold nonetheless. On a more serious note, Undyne also offers to check in with Alphys for her opinion, which is favor she wouldn’t have been willing to ask for on her own, so she’s somewhat thankful for that.

She hasn’t visited with Napstablook in a while, so she does that— she nabbed some ghost pastries in advance for this particular occasion. Just because she only sold spider goods didn’t mean she was incapable of baking other things! For a very select audience, perhaps, but she liked to think of it less as business and more like the kind of favor one did for their friend. They were supportive of her cause and if she baked a few goods for them every now and then in return, what of it? They needed something good, they were always so blue— not that she can blame them for that, but that’s besides the point.

She realizes a little too late that her sudden visit has intruded on something— well, probably something, she’s not entirely sure if they are lying on the floor in accordance to ‘tradition’, or for some other reason. Muffet spares a brief glance to their other visitor, a figure she can recognize quite well, but opts to ignore for the time being.

“oh... i wasn’t... expecting to see you... muffet...” They greet her; the sort of dejected manner they hold themselves with has always made her frown ( she’s glad to see she’s not the only one, if the motion in her peripherals is to be any indication ).

“Why not? You’re my best customer~” Teasing, she’s only teasing as the basket is offered to them. “I had some... business to attend to in Snowdin~ I thought I would come by to keep you company afterwards.”

“oh, right... the spiders are still in the ruins... aren’t they? i’m sorry... i’d help if i could... but the snail business is... still pretty bad.”

Muffet tuts at him, as if she’d blame him. They were both suffering from not being to make money off their fellow monsters, Napstablook was just better natured about it. She was not, though. “Ah, speaking of that, dearie~ I’ve got quite the story about that!” She ignores the metallic sound of their third party getting up, ignores what she assumes to be a glare. “You remember the human who came through, yes? Quite a darling~~ Even helped donate to our bake sale a little~ Not that I knew that when I was fighting them. And—”

“Darling.” Mettaton drawls, and she knows she’s annoyed him. Good! She almost killed an innocent human on his behalf! He’s cunning, Muffet will give him that, but she does not enjoy being deceived like that. He should be at least half as annoyed as she is. “Your gossip is going to put me to sleep. Please change the topic before you bore me any more than you already have.”

“i... don’t really mind...” Napstablook chimes in, though they seem to go ignored.

“You’re no fun. Fine~” She pouts, four arms crossed; she’ll drop the topic for now. Besides, she doesn’t really need to give Napstablook something else to be sad about. “Would you like to hear about the gossip in Snowdin instead then?”

Later, when she leaves Blook Acres, she knows she is not alone, because she can hear the plodding of heeled boots, so she stops and waits for him to catch up— it doesn’t really make much of a difference since they both need to take Hotland’s elevator to get back to their respective homes, but there was no need for her to make him chase after her ( well, maybe it’d be fun to have someone chase after her, but she digresses. It’s a time waster right now ).

“I feel as though I might... owe you an apology.” He starts, and Muffet wants to snort a little— an apology would be far from compensation, but it might be a step in the right direction. If she’s feeling generous. “I was not aware that things were so dire for you. Allow me to make up for it.”

She’s still upset that Mettaton so easily played her for a fool— holding a grudge, however, feels foolish for now ( or maybe she’s being fooled again, only the angel knows ). “And what do you get out of it?”

“Well, I’d never! But, you know, if you’re offering— the spiders being saved from the Ruins would be quite a broadcast worthy moment.”

She groans because, of course, she should have expected there’d be a catch, and of course, it’s a ridiculous catch ( really, she was expecting something entirely different )— only fitting for someone with as much grandeur as him. It’s such a small price for her, though, so she will begrudgingly agree.

It’s better. Things are not the best— this is far from their best ending.

But it’s better, she can’t ask for much else.

iv.

People come. People leave. That is the way this world works, she knows. People come and go, and she has no intentions of trying to make them stay. Such is futile.

Muffet laughs and giggles at monsters who pass through her domain, at the ones that try and convince her to leave her home. What an opportune moment, is what she thinks, and so she stays, like always.

Silly scientists.

( While she regrets not tying Alphys up and playing with her a bit, she’s never seen the lizard so determined— frantic and anxious, yes, that is a given as far as she can tell, but determined is not. So she lets her go on her way, knows that something is coming her way and prepares ).

She is no hero— Muffet would laugh in your face at even the mere suggestion of such— she is no hero, she is not trying to defeat that thing for the sake of others.

No, such a greedy human deserves no pity, no break. One who may have supported her cause all the same, but that is besides the point. A being who has killed so many must have quiet some money— sure, it’s a shame she must go about funding her cause this way, but she thinks the monsters would have preferred it go to her than their killer. Surely, this time, she can succeed in bringing the spiders home. She can be happy knowing that, for a fact.

So she cackles when the thing finally decides to show up, pass through her nest— a foolish move, she thinks. Why would you go through her home? No one is more familiar with the webbed area like she is, it is so easy to catch the tiny little thing like the pest it is. It hardly even seems human when it stares her down like that, face devoid of any emotion. Unfeeling, unlike any monster. Muffet grins and bares her fangs at it and—

She is cocky, has hardly had the time to utter even a sentence; doesn’t notice the weapon until it has collided with her painfully.

v.

This isn’t right.

Her spiders scuttle around her feet, whispers of go home, go home, go home.

Muffet does not bake, she does not tease to munch on people— in this small town, too idle for anyone’s wellbeing, she does not do anything. A monster like her has no place here.

She might as well be a ghost.

( Go home, go home, go back underground.

If only things were that easy ).

Something happens out there, she knows— an echo of laughter falls from her lips.

She does not go out.

( Go back, go back.

She waits until they can go back ).

vi.

It is probably a good thing that their leader is a lively one, or else she thinks that monster’s spirits would’ve been much lower than they currently were. It was not as simple as turning on the television to watch Mettaton’s shows to make them smile anymore. A shame, truly, because while Muffet did not care for those kind of flashy things, had no care for stars of that caliber, she can recognize something has been lost from the Underground.

( A shame, but it really makes no difference to her in the end. Her spiders have been spared, so that’s all that matters to her. The safety of her spiders.

It’s easier to act like that’s all that matters, that things are better for her that way, at least ).

Their new ruler is much more brutal. Blunt. Blood-thirsty— and sure, Undyne’s always been kind of like that, probably. It was an admirable trait, for the head of the Royal Guard; it is a good trait for a ruler too, when supported by the people that she rules over.

Muffet tuts at her and wonders if she will grow to regret that, however, when her grief finally fades. She can mourn those who were lost, but she cannot do so forever. People will move past their grief, eventually... or die when their hope finally gives out.

( She leaves Hotland, passes the lab with its broken doors, forced open when it’d been quiet for too long. It is a sorry echo of what it had once been there. Of who had once been there.

It doesn’t matter, she reaffirms ).

One of her spiders accompanies her, riding on her shoulder; the others stay safe at home with her dear pet. She grabs onto her dress with two of her arms, lifts it up as she wades through the waters of Waterfall. She does not really care for the wet, rocky terrain of Waterfall, but she can afford to make sacrifices. It’s not like any of them have better things to be doing.

( Despite what one may think, she is not entirely all selfish. That said, she is not selfless either, she has her reasons for doing what she does. Her own trivial sort of gain ).

She leaves ghost pastries with Napstablook and checks up on the snails ( she does not care for that wet, slimy thing, but they are friends of the spiders, kind of, and they are tasty, so it’s only with brief prodding before she goes on her way ). Napstablook tells her what she needs to know in exchange for the treats, though she knows they would have told her regardless, just as she would’ve given them to them regardless.

She’s not at her former home, but the piano echoes in the corridors long before she is even close to reaching her. An echoing reminder of how much more empty Waterfall ( the Underground in general, really ) is these days, there is no Shyren to sing along with the occasional plink of an off key note. Once, Muffet would have come to Waterfall to see Napstablook and would have expected to hear the warrior training. Loud clanging of pots and voices yelling while they cooked. The piano playing might have been loud and passionate, fierce and angry at a situation like this, but it is much more dull and sullen now, an almost fragile sound. She finds the Empress draped over the piano, quietly— in a world of her own, probably. She wonders if she has cried today too.

( Once, Muffet thinks she might have not minded the Underground being so empty. She is not sure how to feel anymore ).

Two arms reach up to smooth her hair back into being ‘presentable’— she is pretty sure Undyne has never cared for her appearance, but a leader should look the part— two others gently pull her back in a gesture that could be considered a hug. “Your people await you, dearie~” There is a hum of acknowledgment and little more, but that is fine. She’s not here to fix what cannot be mended.

( Once, Muffet feels like this could have been love ).

vii.

Surface spiders are so very interesting, Muffet decides. When the human— Frisk— mentions to her that the surface has quite a variety of spiders, she did not think they meant it as sincerely as they did. They are so similar to the ones at her home, yet vastly different all the same. She wonders at what point spider monsters and human spider-animal-things changed, but that sounds like a biology thing that Alphys could probably answer in a way that would make no sense to her. So she will just wonder and appreciate the similarities between them— they can communicate with each other, so there’s that. Do the differences even matter, knowing that?

The surface world in general, is very interesting. Muffet does not technically need to bake anymore since the spiders are free, but she does need to make a ‘living’ of sorts, and baking is the easiest way of doing that. Humans may be skeptical of food with spiders in it, but her fellow monsters are finally coming around to her pastries, so all is well.

Well, sort of.

As good for business as all the attention is, it brings about some... unwanted guests. That is probably a generous way of describing the current pest.

“Cameras aren’t allowed back here, dearie~ No exceptions. Leave~~” She’s very to the point about it, easily weaving around Mettaton’s boxy build to get to the oven so she can check on what she’s baking— she needs no pests hanging about, nor does she need any additional distractions. There’s a pause where she thinks he’s actually going to put up a fight, but seems to think better of it and dismisses the camera crew with a wave of his hand. Not the outcome she’d expected, but better. Workable.

“I’m not stopping to talk to you, so speak up~” Muffet might have spiders to help her, but there is only so much they can do, which means she doesn’t have the time for a break. It’s probably good that she has the extra arms to pitch in.

“A brand deal would only benefit the both of us, you know. I’ll provide you with some proper advertising. If we combined our efforts, we’d be actual competition against Grillby’s.”

“Grillby’s doesn’t sell sweets~~ Humans, on the other hand... Still, I’m doing fine here. I don’t need your silly brand~” She bares her teeth in a way that she wants to be menacing ( unfortunately, Mettaton is not a tiny and naïve human, so he doesn’t even flinch— he laughs, the audacity! ); he looks put out, though, so she supposes that’s a victory.

Also unfortunately, Mettaton is stubborn, so even though she gets rid of him for the day, he returns no less than three times that week. Never alone, either, so as much as she would like to rid of him, it’s not so easy to do so. Business propositions are put aside for casual conversations, but she doesn’t trust him so easily ( she’s been deceived by him once before, no need to go doing that again ).

She feels uneasy, like— like she’s missing something. Like something should have happened. But nothing happens, and she’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. They monsters more than deserve some peace after everything, so she’ll take the peace as a sign of good things to come.

( Even if it cannot last ).