#the underground [ undertale verse ]

[pacexlikexaxghost]

Dipper Tag Dump

[abyssembraced]

oh... no i didn't done that but, pretty sure i a human in a red hoodie running off laughing straight into a portal after i got pied by him...

(Referenced ask)

"A... HUMAN?"

"AND YOU DIDN'T CAPTURE THEM!? SANS!!!!"

"...OH. I SEE."

At least his brother was the one to fall victim to a prank, for once, rather than always being the mastermind behind them, he supposed. See how he liked being on the end of it.

But ugh, he really needed to clean up!

...Especially if there was a human around!! They may have escaped once, but a prankster always comes back to the scene of the crime! Er... prank. Or wait, was that only for criminals? Still, he would prepare for their potential reappearance regardless!!

[reindeer-dad]

Hey look, I found Rudy's Snowdin cottage in one of those Christmas music streaming videos.

[shadeenderflame999]

Ask-UnderDusk

[reindeer-dad]

This happened pre-Undertale and you can’t tell me otherwise.

do you think noelle saw daddy kissing santa claus

[popatochisssp]

I have a question, idk if it's been answered b4; are the Horror variants older than their non-horrors? how much older?

thank you, hope you're doing well!

They are!

I hate settling on exact numbers because A) it’s the quickest way to get people to (instinctively) try and fact-check you and B) this is all for self-insertable purposes so being too specific about ages would inevitably exclude people, so I’m not going to do that, but there is a rough sliding scale.

Undertale, Underswap, Underfell, Swapfell, Undergloom, Underfell Fruition, and Swapfell Fruition are all about the same ages (Sanses and Papyri respectively).

Transcendtale and Ascendswap are also in that same age group, but have consciously lived through a lot more timelines, so they’re in a bit of a gray area there in terms of being/feeling older, but technically being the same age.

Horrorswap, Horrorswapfell, and Gastertale are a bit older than the others, chronologically. The horrors’ Chaos after The Human left took awhile to resolve so they ended up getting to the Surface later than their non-horror counterparts, while the G!bros came into existence around the same time as the original Sans would have. They started out as fully-formed youths so they just jumped the timeline a bit.

Horrortale and Horrorfell are older than that. They had the Famine to deal with after The Human left, which took even longer to resolve than the Chaos that the ‘swap ‘verses, so they’re sitting pretty as nearly the eldest.

Descendtale are the absolute oldest ones, but again there’s something of a gray area. The changes brought on by consumption of the echo flower root include a significant slowdown to the aging process, so even though they stayed Underground for another lifetime at the least, their physical bodies are in roughly the same condition as when The Human left.

Which is to say, it’s hard to nail down an exact age for some of them anyway, due to the variety of circumstances in their ‘verses (multiple timelines, accelerated and decelerated growth and aging, et cetera), but that’s the rough scale of it.

[subterlyfitumtale]

Rap of Subtertale Papyrus, Sans y Stelliny: "The Skelebros Brigade: Subtertale's Rap".

**(Verse 1: Sans)**

Yo, it’s Sans, the pun master of Snowdin,

Chillin' in the cold where the snowflakes are blown in.

Skeletally smooth, I got my shades on tight,

Watchin’ over the town as I chill through the night.

Got my bro Papyrus, my sis Stelliny too,

We’re the Skelebros, yeah, we’re known for the spine.

Memories of the past, we’re livin’ in the fray,

Fightin' through the pain, keep the shadows at bay.

**(Chorus)**

Skelebros, in the chill of the Snowdin night,

Sans, Papyrus, Stelliny—comin’ with the fight.

From the past to the present, we’re keepin' it real,

In this underground hustle, watch the Skelebros deal.

**(Verse 2: Papyrus)**

Nyeh-heh-heh! It’s Papyrus, the great, cool and the bold,

I’m the future royal guard of underground, yeah, that’s how I roll.

With on my genius and strength in my bones,

I’ll protect my family and friends with all that I own.

Determined and strong, my attacks never miss,

Got my eyes on the prize, every battle’s a bliss.

From the Snowdin, we’re stayin' on the grind,

With my bro and sis, yo, we’re one of a kind.

**(Chorus)**

Skelebros, in the chill of the Snowdin night,

Sans, Papyrus, Stelliny—comin’ with the fight.

From the past to the present, we’re keepin' it real,

In this underground hustle, watch the Skelebros deal.

**(Verse 3: Stelliny)**

I’m Stelliny, the middle sis and another pun-master, got the balance and grace,

With my siblings and friends by my side, we’re ruling this place.

With a heart full of fire and a soul full of chill,

We’re here to protect, that’s the Skelebro thrill.

From the surface wars to the barrier’s tight hold,

We’re fightin' for freedom, with a story so bold.

A trio in Snowdin, where the legends reside,

Keeping hope alive, no matter the tide.

**(Chorus)**

Skelebros, in the chill of the Snowdin night,

Sans, Papyrus, Stelliny—comin’ with the fight.

From the past to the present, we’re keepin' it real,

In this underground hustle, watch the Skelebros deal.

**(Verse 4: Sans)**

Yo, it’s Sans again, let me lay down the truth,

Genocide's the path where the pain is the proof.

Takin' lives, leavin’ bodies in your wake,

It’s a one-way trip where you never can fake.

Choices matter, mercy or fight,

The aftermath’s heavy, all the friends you betrayed.

We saw the consequences, the damage was clear,

Lost souls and broken hearts, nothing but fear.

**(Verse 5: Sans)**

With my best friends—Toriel, Asgore, Grillby too,

Our friendship’s a light that cuts through the bones

Toriel’s the heart, Asgore’s the might,

Grillby’s flames keep us warm through the night.

We joke and we laugh, like: "Why don't skeletons fight?"

'Cause they don't have the guts—nah, just kidding, all right?

In this world, we’re united, through thick and thin,

With my friends and brothers by my side, it’s a battle we’ll win.

**(Outro)**

So when you’re wanderin' through the underground freeze,

Remember the Skelebros, bringin' you to your knees.

We’re the legends of Snowdin, and we stand tall,

In this epic tale, we’ll never fall.

[reindeer-dad]

Is Rudy that easy to read?

Well, maybe not that easy. He really does want to see if the familiar stranger's alright... and his curiosity if the portal to an alternate universe has remained open got the best of him.

"You got me there, big gu-- -- err, Asgore." He scratches his head. "My kids think I changed my recipe up for the better. Even the ex-wife thinks I imbued some magic into my pies!"

"Are you here, simply to get free food."

@reindeer-dad

[undertale-museum]

Behind the Stacks

Part 1 (Here) / Part 2

The Orb bought the archive from a private collector who we'll call "Being X." This is relevant due to the surplus of exhibits that have yet to be archived and some that have fallen apart.

Most of them still exist but several had to be salvaged from Comic Dubs or other people's reblogs.

None of the following has yet to be archived. There are links with mature themes but no full nudity as far as the Orb can tell from a cursory glance.

_Roughly 21 items

.

Look Into Abyss by drawloverlala

sans, alphys - waterfall

.

All That's Left by dyonisia96

sans, gaster - labs

Note: dub

.

Asylumtale by furgemancs

sans, frisk

Note: dub

.

Shattered Realities by Ink-Mug

Sans, Gaster, Papyrus

Note: dub

.

Skele-Chara by InsanelyAdd

Papyrus, Sans, Chara

Note: deviantart link gone, only dub available

Edit 3June24: We haven’t checked deviantart yet but InsanelyAdd did have a back up of the comic saved on Tumblr

.

Game of the Creator by Gloomyowl

Red, Blue, Underswap Ensemble, Underfell Ensemble

Note: dub

.

Can't Find it by Gochigocochi

Comic 2 / Comic 3

Ink Sans, Dream Sans, Cross Sans

Note: Japanese/English

.

Crushed by Garbi (nsfwgarbagedump)

Sans, Red - Kustard - Surface

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 /

Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /

Note: +18, mature themes, revealing clothing, no smut

Kustard by [same]

Sans, Red - Underground

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 /

Part 5 / Part 6

Note: +18, mature themes, no smut

Guide: Being X found this source, last time ze checked 3-4 years ago some of the comic was on patreon or sub-based website

Later Guide: Part 6 skips several dozen pages. This may be why Being X noted that some may be on patreon. This theory is, as of 18May24, unconfirmed.

Love Fool by [same]

Sans, Mobfell Red - bar

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Guide: there may be more of Love Fool. Again, Being X collected and we have yet to check if it has updated. Considering it's from 2019, doubtful.

Guide: the Sans Comic Dub video was lost. RIP

.

Lover of Piggies Dubs

(Crayon Queen Multiverse Verse ) April Fools Comic Part 1 - 6 by loverofpiggies

Christmas Party AU Movie (Undertale Comic Dub)

Momma CQ [ Halloween special!! ] Comic Dub

Sans and Frisk look so adorable The Movie【Undertale Comic dubs】

Momma CQ   /  Playlist

Guide: copied straight from OG archivist's notes, none of the links are broken incredibly

Guide 2: loverofpiggies content is still intact. we haven't archived the dubs as of yet.

.

Hopetale by HappYenDay

Undertale ensemble

Dub [3:20]

.

Cross x Dream by crossxdream

.

The Truce by Jakei

Ink Sans, Error Sans

Note: only salvaged link

.

Undervirus by Jeyawue

Sans, Papyrus, Undertale Ensemble

note: dub

.

[gumsnail682]

The best fanfiction I've ever read

The house of lane 66 (It is only accessible if you have an account on Ao3)

I am no professional story analyzer, I just like reading stuff, not everything I say is correct and some things may be misremembered because I haven't done a reread of the entire thing in a little while.

There is so much to say about this fic. It builds the world so far beyond what I could have ever expected from a fanfiction, especially an undertale fanfiction. I’ve read a lot of undertale fanfics and none have captivated me like this one has. 

Instead of the skeletons being from different universes they are all brothers and are from the same universe. In a lot of fanfiction that I have read the other AU skeletons got sucked into the OG-verse usually because Sans did something with a machine. It’s a good trope but I can only read the same plot so many times without a palate cleanser. 

As of writing this the story is unfinished but I very eagerly await each update. It has a way of just sucking you in, I’ve spent hours at a time reading it forgetting I need basic things like food and water to survive because that's just how much I get sucked into the story. 

I have cried while reading this, I will not lie to you. You might not but I am a crybaby bitch and I get attached to fictional characters beyond the point of it being healthy. 

I pretty much only read reader inserts and it can be hard to find quality x reader fics, this one reached far beyond my expectations. 

I cannot express to you how impressed I am with the writing, the world building and the character development. 

To give a brief explanation of the plot; MC (reader), finds a job listing to be a groundskeeper, having been looking for a job to help pay for her college. She meets a family of monsters, skeletons to be exact.

Monsters had just come up from the underground and were working for a way that all monsters could live up on the surface. Tensions between humans and monsters are high and it is feared that another war between the two is bound to break out.

-

Now there is a thing that is talked about that may be a bit controversial. One of the characters admits to having fallen for a character she met when he was underage, only having grown feelings for him once he was of maturity.

Now getting into the morals and shit of that is a whole other topic that I do not want to really get into. I do just want to say I think it further builds on the culture of monsters and the way relationships work differently to humans. 

The building of an entire culture is very impressive to me. Things that are and are not normal to us and things that are and aren't acceptable. The author made it a point to say that she only became interested after he became an adult, the author did not say she had secret feelings for him before that point. To me that is a very important thing. It has been a hot minute since I’ve read that chapter so there may be some other important points that I’m forgetting but I don’t feel like going back to it right now. 

Think whatever you want about it but remember that this is having to do with a culture that is completely separate from humanity, there are of course some things that are the same, mortals that both humans and monsters share, but things do work very differently down in the underground. 

Personally if both characters are consenting adults and the relationship is healthy do your thing. If one loves the other and is not loved back as long as they respect the other person's decision and boundaries I also don’t care. Relationships can get sticky, especially if age gaps are involved. 

ALSO keep in mind that these characters are fake and do not exist so ultimately in the end it doesn't matter. The two characters aren't together and never will be together so that's another thing. 

I decided to add this part because I discovered the author's tumbler and saw they had a post about it. I don’t know, I just thought I’d give my opinion since this whole thing is about my opinion on the story. 

ANYWAY

I want to talk about the character development, just a little bit I swear.

Spoiler warning here because I can't talk about the character development without talking about the characters and how they develop. 

I’m gonna focus on one character that I’m the most interested in; Edge

-

Those of you who have read the story up to the current (I am writing this while the fic is at 95 chapters according to Ao3 and 89 according to the author) know that Edge is, well, Edgy. 

He has hated the MC from the beginning of the story and only now around the current end of the story has he begun to really truly start to warm up to her. There were moments where it seemed he had opened a wall but that not really being the case in the end. 

MC acknowledges the false promises Edge has made to her which I as a reader personally forgot about until reminded because nothing came of the promise (and because it had been awhile since I’ve read the chapters in which that happened). 

His warming up to MC has been a painfully slow process but ultimately it feels more rewarding for it. Personally seeing him actually be kind (In his own way) to MC was mind blowing to me. I think it was even more impactful because of the false promises before, it seemed as though the two would just never become anything more than enemies. 

Him actually trying to put in effort to make it up to MC (for an event I will not mention because if someone is reading this without having gotten to it I don’t wanna spoil that part. It’s way too good to be spoiled in a review post. I could make a whole rant about THAT part because I have STRONG feelings about it, both good and bad.) was astounding. I fully expected the same cycles to repeat themselves but it was a very pleasant surprise to see that it wasn't the case. 

That first act of kindness after THE event was stiff and tense which makes perfect sense, It’s going to be tense for awhile and I’m not counting on it to be a steady walk to companionship. I think something else is gonna happen, something bad that tears their building relationship apart again. Maybe not something that was either of their faults, if Edge did another horrible thing I do not think MC would forgive him or give him another chance. Not after giving him so many already. 

Hell, MC might be the one to fuck up and damage the budding companionship. I don’t have any theories as to what might happen between them but it just feels like something is bound to happen. Their relationship is so rocky and fragile and I think it’s bound to gain a few more cracks. 

I personally love Edge and how he’s written and I am so extremely excited to see more of him. He’s been so scarce and every moment with him feels like something special. He seems to never fail to surprise me.

I don’t know if he and MC will ever get together, I don’t think it’s likely but I would really like it if they did. Don’t ask me why I am so weak for him, I HAVE TYPE OK!? If they do get together I think it would be closer to the actual end of the story, if it’s taken this long for them to get to the current stage it would take even longer for anything romantic to burst forth. 

I’m kinda ranting now, I need more Edge in the story aaaaaahhhh. I have audibly gasped at some of the things he’s done and I have had to put my phone down to take some time to comprehend some of his actions, most of his actions honestly. 

None of my friends have read this fic and I need an outlet to talk about it so I am posting it to my tumblr. If you did read this I appreciate you so much ahaha. 

[inbarfink]

On a similar note to my previous post, I think it’s probably a fool’s errand to try and find when Deltarune happens in relation to Undertale. At least if we’re not talking like a Universe-Reset-Theory thing, but as two parallel lines that the Player interacts with in different points.

I mean, I know the year “202X” appears in the hidden files for Ralsei’s Manual back up in Chapter 1 so a lot of people assume this universe is 10 years ahead of Undertale’s. But to me it’s clear that the two universes diverge so much that those dates are pretty meaningless.

Like ‘ten years ahead of 201X’ seem to make sense for Asriel. Cause, remember, 201X isn’t the year of the events of the game - but the year of Chara’s fall into the Underground. So if he hadn’t died in 201X, he would be college-aged by 202X, that makes sense.

But this world is also full of characters who were born long after 201X, some of which appear to be roughly the same age (Snowdrake, Burger/Pizzapants) or even slightly older (Monster Kid, maybe Susie and Kris if they are counterparts to Suzy and Frisk) than they are in Undertale. And then you get to stuff like Rudy being already dead in Undertale, which might be a matter of things it being further along in his personal timeline or just a matter of chance... 

…I think it’s clear that events, including the dates of characters’ births can get totally rearranged in this verse, so there’s no point in expecting a timeline comparison with Undertale to be totally linear. (Also as far as we know they don’t even use the same dating system lol.)

[reindeer-dad]

So, you live in Snowdin? You ever see those two skeletons that live around there?

Event: UT Rudy has the inbox

It's almost like they were born yesterday...

[pico-digital-studios]

Into, Across and Beyond! Locations: Universe Chart

In this post, I'll go through the codenames for all of the present universes in Sonic: Into, Across and Beyond!, and what character(s) they are assigned to:

Blur Gang's universes

MP-2021 (OMT universe) CR-2017 (Crossover Realm / EXE CU) NS(Nexus Sensor)-2021 (OMT!Mina's universe) JA-1991 (Mini Sonic's universe) NM-1973 (Mr. Needlemouse's universe) EX-2022 (Xenophanes' universe) DS-2022 / FNF-DS-3110 (D-Sides universe) BK-2009 (Black Knight universe) ND-2022 (ChaosIIUniverse) PR-2023 (Shatterverse) - PR-EGG-2023 (New Yolk City) - PR-GRO-2023 (Boscage Maze) - PR-SEA-2023 (No Place) - PR-GRIM-0000 (The Grim) - PR-FICE-2024 (Deepfreeze Domain) EV-2019 (Errorverse) MV-2023 (Mobiverse) MFF-2022 (Mobius' Freedom Fighters Universe) GI-2023 (Hog's Universe) MY-2023 (Wacky's universe)

Visited Into the Sonic-verse universes

BOOM-2014 (Boom universe) AO-1992 (AoSTH universe) X-2000 (Sonic X universe) MULTI-2023 (Superstars universe)

Quill Society's universes

SS-2001 (Lost Memory universe) STC-1993 (Sonic the Comic universe) AR-1992 (Archie Sonic multiverse) CD-1993 (CD Alt End universe) UG-1999 (Underground universe) LEGO-2016 (LEGO Sonic universe) SUNK-2014 (Sunky universe) FP-2015 (Freedom Planet universe) NM-1963 (Needlem0use universe) MOV-2019 (Movie universe) SA-2022 (Milly's universe) BL-2017 (Blitz universe) RAW-1994 (RAW's universe) DΩ-2018 (Discovery Omega universe) OVA-1996 (Sonic OVA universe) PDH-2011 (Pana's universe) ELE-2023 (Sonic x Elemental universe) VOC-2009 (Stella's universe) PIR-1994 (Somari universe)

Other Sonic universes

IDW-2017 (IDW universe) SAT-1993 (SatAM universe) RE-2014 (Lost Drive universe) XE-2018 (Extraterrestrial Encounter universe) HoM-2023 (Hues of Metal universe) SRB-1998 (The universe of Sonic Robo Blast 2 and its MANY mods) ZONE-0000 (No Zone) - ZONE-SM-1992 (Luna Zone) - ZONE-LAW-2000 (Ligitopolis) - ZONE-ANTI-1994 (Moebius) - ZONE-MER-1998 (Kingdom of Mercia) - ZONE-YL-2058 (25 Years Later universe) NEX-2023 (Sonic Legends universe / Nexus Dimension) - NEX-PM-2008 (Project Mettrix sub-universe) - NEX-UT-2006 (Sonic Utopia 2006 sub-universe) - NEX-ZERO-2012 (Sonic Zero Remastered sub-universe) - (more to be added) PRIME-1991 (the ORIGINAL Sonic universe) EDU-1996 (Sonic's Schoolhouse) EXE-2013 (original Sonic.exe universe) GMT-811 (Green Mountain)

Linked universes (via ties to Sonic)

FNF-NEW-2023 / Earth-111723 (Rewritten FNF universe) EJ-2017 (Spark the Electric Jester universe) RR-2024 (Rollin' Rascal universe) BB-2024 (Penny's Big Breakaway universe)

Disconnected universes

alans_pc (Animator vs. Animation universe) UT-2015 / DR-2018 (Undertale and Deltarune universes) FNF-2020 (Friday Night Funkin' universe) - FNF-BS-169 / Earth-169 (B-Sides universe) - FNF-NEGA-427 / Earth-427 (Minus universe) - FNF-NEO-21821 / Earth-21821 (Neo universe) - FNF-SOFT-10143 / Earth-10143 (Soft universe) - FNF-POINT-22512 / Earth-22512 (Arrow Funk universe) - FNF-ALT-409 / Earth-409 (Funkinverse base world) - FNF-WHOT-88 / Earth-88 (VS OURPLE GUY universe) - FNF-HOLO-16063 / Earth-16063 (HoloFunk universe) - FNF-TOON-2819 / Earth-2819 (Wednesday's Infidelity universe) - FNF-MOBI-623 / Earth-623 (Mobian BF's universe) - FNF-TG-1249 / Earth-1249 (Blueballs Incident universe) - FNF-DJX-221711 / Earth-221711 (DJX universe) - FNF-HF50-13166 / Earth-13166 (HoloFunk Pre-6.0 universe) - FNF-LOGIC-804 / Earth-804 (FNF Logic universe) - FNF-LYRIC-1215 / Earth-1215 (FNF WITH LYRICS universe) - FNF-CLAY-5619 / Earth-5619 (Clay BF's universe) - FNF-MIX2-72599 / Earth-72599 (Alt MIX universe) - FNF-MEGA-12488 / Earth-12488 (B-Bot's universe) - FNF-REW-15221 / Earth-15221 (Return Funkin' universe) - FNF-WII-1119 / Earth-1119 (Mii BF's universe / Wuhu Island) - FNF-CHILD-8814 / Earth-8814 (Childhood Memories universe) - FNF-BLU-923 / Earth-923 (BluBuni's universe) - FNF-SALT-21 / Earth-21 (??????????????) MSYN-2018 (DDLC universe) GC-2019 (Glitch Chaos universe) URB-2023 / Earth-12124 (the city universe where New Identity, New Life takes place)

JC-231 (the old Sonic.exe story universe that's frowned upon by EVERY Quill Society member. Yep, even LM!Sonic.)

SEGAVerse universes

TNL-2015 (Sonic 1: The Next Level universe / Gust Planet) AK-1986 (Alex Kidd universe) RIS-1995 (Ristar universe) NIGH-1996 (NiGHTS universe) SDA-2000 (Samba De Amigo universe) SC5-2002 (Space Channel 5 universe) COL-1990 (Columns universe) FAN-1986 (Fantasy Zone universe) AXE-1989 (Golden Axe universe) MONK-2001 (Super Monkey Ball universe) PUYO-1992 (Puyo Puyo universe) CHU-2001 (ChuChu Rocket! universe) JET-2000 (Jet Set Radio universe) EGG-2003 (Billy Hatcher universe) ECCO-1992 (Ecco universe) SHI-1992 (Shining Force universe) GUN-1993 (Gunstar Heroes universe) ROCK-1992 (Sparkster universe) RAGE-1991 (Streets of Rage universe) TOE-1991 (ToeJam & Earl universe) ARC-2000 (Skies of Arcadia universe) DRA-1995 (Panzer Dragoon universe) AGES-2012 (City of AGES) UNK-0013 (Dr. EggOmega's universe)

CapcomVerse universes

MEGA-1987 (Mega Man universe) VIEW-2003 (Viewtiful Joe universe) BRE-1993 (Breath of Fire universe) GNG-1985 (Ghosts 'n Goblins universe) OKA-2005 (Ōkami universe) SF-1987 (Street Fighter universe) HUNT-2004 (Monster Hunter universe)

[dumbflickerideas]

**[Intro]**

Sans steps into the ring, bones clacking,

Adanna from Flicker, hood up, attackin'.

**[Sans Verse]**

I'm Sans from the Underground, the pun master,

Droppin' jokes so fast, dodging disasters.

Blue eye glowing, magic in my bones,

You're in Flicker, but I'm in your danger zones.

**[Adanna's Response]**

Adanna in Flicker, mystery's my game,

Quietly lurking, you won't know my name.

Knife in hand, I'm the queen of the night,

In this battle, Sans, prepare for a fright.

**[Sans Counter]**

A queen in Flicker, but I'm the king of wit,

Your murder mystery game? I'll solve it, legit.

Teleporting through timelines, call me a legend,

You're Adanna, but tonight, I'm the weapon.

**[Adanna's Comeback]**

Sans, your jokes won't save you from my blade,

In Flicker's shadows, your bones will fade.

I'm the mystery, you can't comprehend,

Adanna in the game, my reign won't end.

**[Final Showdown]**

Sans with the puns, Adanna with the knife,

Undertale meets Flicker in this rap life.

Who takes the crown, who spits the hotter fire?

Sans and Adanna, let the rap battle inspire.

made by chat gpt

I was gonna say this was fire until I saw the chat gpt :/

this account is against bots but this is funny

[reindeer-dad]

Good thing his holiday innuendo was lost on the giant goat man in front of him. Extremely fiery bullet dodged. As long as there aren't further requests for elaboration about the inappropriate question, Rudy's in the clear.

He takes a bite out of the cookie from the plate before him. "Well I'll be a kid on Gyftmas day... ..." His eyes water with joy. "These things're flippin' perfect!"

Crispy on the bottom, a dense and chewy pillow of milk chocolates and marshmallows pieces in the middle. Rudy considers his Asgore to be better at baking than he gives himself credit. But this other Asgore? He completely nails the cookie-baking game!

"Hoooo man! You gotta tell me your secret!"

"So, you like being the sleigh rider, or the sleigh?" The thought of those words possibly causing his incineration didn't cross his mind... until the words slipped out of Rudy's snout.

@reindeer-dad

"Start making sense and eat your cookies." he orders.

[sylphidine]

[Fic] Call Signs, Chapter 30

Fandom: Deltarune

‘Verse: Human AU

Pairing: Swatch/Spamton [Swatchton]

Characters: Spamton Addison [flashback], Mike Cowley [flashback], the "Serif brothers", as in those two skeletons from UNDERTALE [flashback]

Rating: Mature

Chapter title: Trash Landing, Part One

Chapter summary:  Heights and lows.

Author notes:

So much gaslighting that Mike dishes out.

So much whump that Spamton goes through.

[So much Deltarune canon lore and meta references, mixed with my own AU trappings. PLEASE, dear readers, tell me you see some of the Easter eggs I've tossed in here.]

Spamton's first person past tense POV continues straight from the end of the previous chapter as he's trying to explain the last few years to Swatch. Take it as read that Spamton is stuttering away like mad, but he's getting his points across to Swatch while reliving these horrible memories. [Yes, the author's cheating a bit and using a weird narrative device.]

____________________

Mike does his best to cheer me up over the week between Christmas and New Year's. 

We'd already discussed neither of us doing a lick of work while I was scheduled to be with my family. Mike had said, while I was packing, that he'd be catching up on some of his hobbies during the downtime, like practicing card tricks and other kinds of sleight of hand.

I had thought he was joking at the time, like a sad clown, but it turns out he's really good at stage magic. We end up at Tannen's Magic Shop after one of our dates.

We go out every afternoon that week, even though it’s cold and windy. No bars. No networking.  Just real, honest-to-goodness, down-to-earth dates.

A hole-in-the-wall all-you-can-eat buffet. 

Window shopping on Canal Street. 

Tea and scones at The Potbelly Stove. 

Dance Dance Revolution at an underground arcade. 

Jazz at The Blue Note.

On New Year's Eve the wind is much too strong and I’m tired of getting bundled up to fight the bitterly freezing weather, so we stay in to watch the ball drop on television rather than braving the crowds in Times Square and getting frostbite.

 I admire our afternoon’s decorating handiwork. Somehow Mike has acquired six or seven canisters of Silly String, and now the living room is festooned with multicolored silicon tangles. 

To me… It looks…. Well, silly. Not something two full-grown men would admit to enjoying, but definitely a unique stay-at-home date to wrap up our vacation week.

The tendrils sway in the air coming from our heating vents like wacky wires, or vines. They remind me of the strings on the marionettes we saw yesterday at FAO Schwartz.

Mike comments on my unconscious frown. I mention the accusation about puppets I'd yelled at Ballew; he “hmmms” thoughtfully in response and then changes the subject.

The champagne gets poured at midnight and for the first time in a long time I drink too much. I wake up with a headache to end all headaches, half-dressed in my office, with my arms wrapped around the black rotary phone. 

I can see my reflection in its waxy surface. 

I can feel fingertip-shaped bruises on my hips.

There are long, long strands of bright green Silly String trailing off both my wrists. 

There’s also a note on my desk from Mike that says he tried to talk me out of brainstorming my great new idea for a new advertising campaign until we both went back to work on the 2nd, but that I was very insistent. He ends the message by asking if I want to go out to the neighborhood hangover brunch.

To my sodden brain, that sounds like the best plan ever. 

My great new idea, as it turns out, is a slogan I’d written on a cocktail napkin while we were both lifting a toast to a successful 2018 and beyond. In sloppy, blocky, straggling capital letters, it spells out “HAVE YOUR HOME RUN LIKE CLOCKWORK”, accompanied by a stick figure drawing that could either be a robot or a scarecrow. 

I’ve never made any claims to be an artist, but even I have to laugh at how crappy it looks.

Mike says that the idea has good bones and we can rough it out over the next few months.  He teasingly tells me I was raving for hours about a book I’d read as a kid about a clockwork man.

I vaguely remember the title after a few minutes, including the movie that was made from the book, and I blame the rest of my amnesia from last night on too much bubbly.

We each polish off a huge plateful of greasy scrambled eggs and clink our coffee cups together.

It feels like a great start to a better year, and like I can stop looking in the rear view mirror.

---------------

We hit the ground running in January. 

Mike is either constantly in my office when he’s home, or on the phone with me when he has to work long hours with the science team, whom I’ve never met.  

The receiver of the black rotary phone never cools from the heat of my hand, and I feel like I’m never alone. 

I desperately, desperately need to NOT BE ALONE. 

If I’m not alone, there’s no room in my mind to think about what or who I've left behind.

My New Year’s Eve brilliance inspires Mike to show me a whole series of articles on “mechanical men” built between the 1700s and the 1800s. We pore over them together on my laptop, sitting practically in each other’s laps, his hand always on my shoulder or my thigh.

The automaton that strikes both of us as the most incredible is the Draughtsman-Writer.  Mike points out that it even looks like me, if my cheeks were a little rosier. Dark hair, a pointed chin, and a dreamy gaze in its eyes.

It’s a short leap to the next idea. I practice with makeup and a selfie stick before Mike and I storyboard the next GASTER commercial together. His hands guide mine and make me feel like a priceless musical instrument.

And thus “Spamton G. Spamton”, the mechanical salesman, is born.

I’m a bit uncomfortable at first with the look of the hinged jawlines, but I get used to it. I start practicing a new kind of vocal patter that has barely perceptible stops and starts.

In the meantime, I still have sales outreach work to do.  I’m back to nineteen-hour workdays, much of which is spent immersed in nightlife, but I’m so energized that I don’t care.

Over the next few months, we shoot four more GASTER commercials that are in constant rotation on the airwaves. I voice the opinion to Mike that maybe the red suit is getting stale after more than a year, and that it might be time to change up my image again.  He agrees, but he wants to keep the “mechanical man” look. So I compromise; the makeup can stay, but I want something that’s sharp and memorable.

Tallulah has closed up her Chelsea apartment for the summer and gone to France, so she’s not around to consult with.  Not in person, at least.  But I start looking at some of her past fashion collections in a retrospective issue of a magazine, and there’s one season’s looks that really grab me, even though I don’t really know why. All the pieces seem to be some variation on tuxedos, but they’re each paired with what I guess Tallulah would call “accessories”, in hot pink and yellow-green.

I lay my hands on some good old-fashioned tracing paper and some colored pencils, and I start sketching. I’ve never done something like this before. It’s like something or someone else is guiding my hand. But when it’s done, I’ve got the look I want. A black single-breasted swallowtail coat with lapels in hot pink and neon yellow, and a pink-and-yellow satin lining. Tailored white suit pants. Crisp white high-collared shirt like the old Leyendecker ads.

Mike… doesn’t hate the new suit, but doesn’t love it, either.  It does gradually grow on him, especially when I add a Cungadero-red bowtie, the same shade as his favorite of the red suits, and a pair of sunglasses that are sort of like his eyeglasses… round instead of diamond-shaped, pink and yellow instead of orange and gold. An unspoken compliment and an apology all in one.

It hangs on the closet door in my bedroom and remains undisturbed by probing hands.

________________

The SUIT (I've come to think of it in Capital Letters) gets its debut at my 21st birthday party on the third of May, in The Bellecour Room at Restaurant Daniel. 

Twenty of GASTER's biggest corporate sponsors send representatives; the rest of the group of fifty are assorted hangers-on that I've met here and there over time.

I sip on my Merlot; the bitter wine fits my mood tonight.

In my mind's eye the glitterati at the tables around me fade out, and in their places are my old friends.

Gazlay showing off her gorgeous gams in a high kick worthy of a Rockette.

Vazzana tittering behind his ostrich-plumed fan that someday he'll be Queen.

Pitch and Coz engaging good-tempered barbs with one another.

Winkelsas playing one of his toddler sister's compositions on kazoo and passing along the message that she wants me to be in her band.

Jack Sickle reciting Poe's " The Raven '' without a single stammered word when he doesn't know any of us are watching.

And of course I mentally summon the images of my brothers and my sister… and yes, even Saffron.

The images of the past dissolve like burning film, and the sight of the room full of happy strangers returns me to the present.

I’m a stranger here myself, as the saying goes. Might as well put on the mask of a happy one.

The party finally breaks up somewhere around 2am, and Mike doesn't protest when I ask if we can just head straight home. 

During the limo ride back to the Pandora Palace, I make the comment that this shindig will be hard to top, but he's got four more years to plan for the next big milestone. 

He asks me in seemingly idle curiosity what's more special about being 25 versus being 21. 

When I bring up how I'll finally be financially independent by then because of my trust fund, he gets very quiet. 

The multicolored glow of street lamps and neon signs shines through the limo windows. The garish light plays over Mike's angular face and casts pockets of shadow. Offset by his black blazer and white turtleneck, his head almost looks like a floating skull.

Then he smiles. It's a soft, fond look.

I'm almost expecting him to propose marriage, with how thick the tension in the air gets, but the moment passes.

-----------------------

Spring turns into summer. Summer turns into autumn.

For months we’ve been discussing registering to exhibit GASTER at some of the technological trade shows around the country, and I start looking into travel arrangements for two.

Until Mike yanks me up short by casually mentioning that he’ll be staying behind to run things while I’m on the road.  

And he already has an itinerary mapped out for me. 

And it’s going to keep me on the road for weeks at a time, over the course of the next year. 

My first reaction is that he’s putting me on.  My second reaction is panic.

Chicago. Denver. Los Angeles. San Francisco. Seattle. Minneapolis.  San Antonio. New Orleans. Nashville. Atlanta. Washington DC. Philadelphia. Finally back in New York in late September of next year.

It doesn't matter what I say, how many logical arguments I try to make. For the first time since I've known him, Mike actually gets visibly angry. 

No, it's the second time. The first time was when he chased off Werewolf Guy, way back when.

But it's the first time he's been angry with ME.

It's a cold rage, delivered with the same dry voice he used to use in the classroom. He counters my reasoned protests with logic of his own that I can't fight.

How many people under the age of thirty, he tells me, can say that they've achieved the success I have? It takes work to KEEP the success happening, and if I don't want to do the work, he won't know what to think, other than to be gravely disappointed.

Those are the magic words. With everything Mike has done for me… a home, luxuries, connections… I can't disappoint him. I just can't. I'll be nothing but a sponge, or the lowest kind of worm, if I don't go along with this plan.

So I give in, and tell him I'll do the trade show tour.

Mike practically purrs and lets me know how pleased he is, as he backs me up against my office desk.

------------------------

The itinerary has me traveling the entire country by train. A few weeks in each city, booked into different extended stay suites in the Mansion Hotels chain. The trade shows are each a week long, and the rest of the time, when I'm not on a train, I'm supposed to be schmoozing and glad-handing with the locals.

And I’m traveling with a pair of boneheads.

I should probably be kinder in my thoughts about them; at heart, both the Serif brothers seem to be decent guys. They're along to do the booth set-ups and breakdowns, as well as to make sure I get where I'm supposed to go. They've done this tour before, they both say, with other "heroes", and they know all the weird routes.

But I get very tired, very quickly, of one brother's non-stop puns and the other brother's exaggerated sense of his own importance. Wherever Mike dug these two up, it seems a long way from my old hometown.

Any excitement I might have had about visiting new places gets ground into nothingness pretty quickly. One city feels the same as any other. 

The exhibit halls could be interchangeable backlots on a soundstage, for all the individuality they have, which is none. Concrete floors covered in paper-thin carpeting that does nothing to muffle the sound of foot traffic or the voices of the other vendors and attendees. I come back to my hotel room every day with a headache from the stagnant air and the endless noise.  

The views from the hotel windows all look the same. And the hotel rooms themselves are so uniform, as befits a national chain, that it really feels like Time is standing still. The windows are always sealed. No sound rises from the streets, unlike the cacophony of the trade show venues.

But even when I’m back in my “home on the road” accommodations after leaving the exhibit halls behind for the day, the constant sound of a phone ringing shatters any peace and quiet I might hope for.

You see, there's one thing that's particularly disturbing about the sameness of each successive Mansion Hotels room I stay in.

They each have the exact same waxy-finish black rotary phone on the room's desk as the one that Mike set up on MY desk in my office, back at the Pandora Palace. 

The ringtone is exactly the same, too.

When I unlock the door of my hotel room, the phone always sits in a pool of light from an overhead lamp, just like mine does back in New York. 

It doesn’t matter if I’ve turned off the room lights before I head out for the day. The phone has its own spotlight, like Yorick’s skull in a production of HAMLET.

It feels like it never stops ringing.

I almost want to ask the front desk at each hotel whether I can swap out the phone for a more modern model, but I can't think of any way to do so without sounding like a lunatic.

Mike calls frequently, never at consistent times. His calls keep me off-kilter, to the point where I think I'm hearing the phone ring when I'm nowhere near the hotel room. It gets so bad that I have a doctor check me out for tinnitus.

It gives me bad dreams at night. 

One of the recurring nightmares has a monstrous version of Proto, telling me to "beware the man who speaks in hands", while pointing to the phone which has no cord and isn't plugged in and shouldn't be able to ring.

It's an unreal life.

Every time I put my makeup on, I feel more and more like a puppet. I am afraid to look too long in any mirror in case I find that I've  actually become one.

------------------------

The frequency of the phone calls from Mike slows down noticeably between the San Antonio and Nashville legs of the trade show tour.

The incoming calls stop completely while I'm in DC.

My frantic outgoing calls are not answered.

My sales, which had been stable if not as stellar as when I first started with GASTER, take a sudden nosedive.

I stumble through the DC and Philadelphia trade shows feeling like a corpse. I don't go out painting the town red every night, the way I used to. I get room service when my body reminds me that I need fuel, and I spend the rest of my time just staring at the ubiquitous black rotary phone.

Willing it to ring.

Dialing and hoping to get an answer.

Nothing.

I'm alone.

In my solitude and the fear that solitude inspires, I do some hard thinking.

I'm twenty-two years old, going on twenty-three, yet I have the responsibilities of a middle-aged person, for a company that should have taken fifteen years to get where it is with its market share.

nstead, it's only taken three.

The math doesn't add up.

Could Eos have been right, that GASTER is too good to be true?

I may loathe the name of Addison, but I've picked up enough from the family business that I start having some nasty suspicions.

If those suspicions are true, then my current career track isn't on the up-and-up.

A huge wave of homesickness hits me. I want to see my siblings.

All of them.

Any of them.

And I almost get my wish.

As the saying goes… Be careful what you wish for.

----------------------

At the end of the four weeks in Philadelphia, the Serif brothers give me an unpleasant surprise; they tell me they're not joining me in New York. They've heard from "our boss" that they're supposed to work some other job, and they're taking all the demo devices with them.

When I ask, rather snappishly, what I'm supposed to show off at the Javits Center without the gizmos and gadgets to wow the crowd, the shorter, stockier brother just smiles and hands me the rolled-up booth banner, as though he's passing along a torch to me. Then he walks off whistling.

The taller, lankier brother claps my shoulder, tells me it's a puzzle all right and he wishes he could be the one to solve it, and ambles off to catch up with his kin.

Leaving me to retrieve my own luggage and find my own way from Philly to Penn Station.

I'll be damned if I spend another night in another hotel.  I want to go to the Pandora Palace and have it out with Mike and DEMAND to know why he's abandoned me.

And to demand to know what's really up with GASTER.

Of course, when I drag my bags up to the apartment, Mike's not there.

But at least my keys still work. I was afraid for more than a few seconds that they wouldn't.

The apartment seems antiseptic, impersonal, dingy. Mike has probably had a cleaning service in while he's been away, but I'm struck yet again by the perception that this is a workspace, not a home.

I look aimlessly into all the rooms on the lower floor. Mike's office is locked; his bedroom is not, but it's tidy and doesn't look like it's much used.

There's a pile of newspapers stacked on the kitchen floor. The top one has a folded-back page showing photos of my sister's wedding in the society column.

My sister's wedding.

In June.

When I would have been in Atlanta.

Near enough to have flown to New York and back again in a 36-hour turnaround time, and not missed much of anything business-wise.

I wander out of the kitchen in more of a daze than I walked into it.

Mike has left me a long, long, handwritten letter on the coffee table in the living room, which feels as big as a stadium or a skating rink after so many dinky little hotel rooms.

The letter is a strange mix of praise and recriminations. It goes on for five double-sided pages, and leaves me no clearer in my mind at the end than it does at the beginning.

Does he care about me? Does he hate me? Are we partners, or enemies, or just two tired old horses stuck in harness together?

I haven't a clue.

I also haven't got the energy to climb the spiral stairs to my bedroom on the second floor. And I'm too conflicted to just use Mike's bed when he's not here.

So I crash on the couch in the cavernous living room, and curl up into the tiniest ball I can manage.

----------------------------

I head to the Electronics Expo at the Javits Center via taxi the next day. 

It’s an unmitigated disaster.

All I have to adorn my booth is the now-tired-looking banner with Penniman's clockwork boy as a logo, with the now-faded caption "Have Your Home Run Like Clockwork!". 

All I have to display are some ratty business cards and some dog-eared brochures.

Some Big Shot I am.

Billy Joel's lyrics taunt me as an earworm I can't escape.

I don't have to exaggerate my "mechanical man" movements; my limbs feel like lead. And the stilted speech I've been cultivating through this whole tour has taken on  a life of its own; I now have a genuine stutter that I can't shake.

People walk past my booth to get to other booths with more enticing setups.

Like I’m invisible.

So it doesn't surprise me that, when I'm feeling at my lowest and least confident, my brother Ballew shows up.

His hair is freshly cut. When he stops in front of my booth, I get a fleeting whiff of his cologne. I don't recognize the scent; it's not the British Sterling that I give him every Christmas.

Used to give him, that is.

He looks so tailored. 

So polished.

So disapproving.

The suit that I was so proud of designing all on my own, once upon a time, feels like a cheap Halloween costume now.

He reluctantly takes the business card I reluctantly and silently hand to him. 

His bitter comment about my enjoying being a puppet is excruciating and painful. I can't blame him, and I can't dismiss the truth of his words.

I've been Mike's puppet. 

I *am* Mike's puppet.

I don't know how to stop being Mike's puppet.

-------------------------

The rest of the week at the trade show passes in a blur.  I don’t even care about the sales I'm not making. Take a taxi to the Javits Center every morning, take a taxi back to Chelsea every evening. Each day I go through the motions and plaster on the dummy’s grin.  Each night I pray for an end to it all.

I feel like I’m coming down with some kind of flu bug. Maybe a delayed reaction to everything. My heart is constantly pounding. I can actually feel my pulse in my ears. My brain is full of cobwebs.

Finally the time comes when I can pack up and go…

Home?

Mike’s apartment isn’t home.

But it’s the only place I’ve got left to go.

So I head there in yet another cab, and have a nasty shock.

My credit card gets declined by the cab driver’s swipe machine. I apologetically give him what cash I have, which pays for the ride but precious little for a tip.  The driver yells at me like I'm some annoying dog and zooms off before I realize I’ve left my laptop bag and the trade show banner in the back seat.

Fortunately I still have my wallet and keys, and I’m wearing The SUIT.  But everything else I’ve been carting around to do work for Mike for the last year is gone.

I'm feeling hollow as I nod to the doorman, who tilts his head in a birdlike fashion and asks if I'm alright.

The elevator operator gives me a quick look of pity as she takes me up to the fourth floor.

Wait a minute.

Doorman? Elevator operator?

Why don't I remember them? They have to have always been here, right? This is the Pandora Palace, with amenities fit for royalty.

My memory from a week ago, of having to carry my own bags up the stairs of a rodent-infested four-story walk-up, gets overlaid by this current reality.

I must be running a fever. It’s hot behind my eyes. I shakily let myself into the apartment and barely make it to the little bathroom off the foyer before I collapse onto the cold tile floor.

The sound of footsteps approaching registers in my mind, but I keep my eyes tightly shut. Then I feel bony fingers threading themselves through my hair before I’m yanked up into a sitting position.

I have to look at him now.

Mike bends over me, impossibly tall, and says in a hissing whisper that I would be nothing without him, that I owe him everything, and he’s going to get his money’s worth.

And then he picks me up off the floor and cradles me to his chest. As though I were his most cherished possession.

I don’t know how to cope with any of this anymore.

My body does me a kindness and shuts down into unconsciousness.