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#too bad there's no 'papyrus too far' or 'papyrus exe' tags
radiopixelctive · 4 months
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PAPER TRAIL FAN ART: Coralie The Tomboy Princess
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Credit for Paper Trail goes to Lynxgriffin
Credit for Undertale & Deltarune goes to Toby Fox
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first I want to say that even though I really did want to go on a type of hiatus where I wait until a few months to post some stuff on here, and until then I can just check out other stuff by other people on here and heart their work, and even send asks to their tumblrs.
but while reading Paper Trail AU Comic,
and well I’m still in the middle of reading it
and I plan to read and fave all of the pages in one day.
but I guess I will still make sure to take a break when needed, you know like get some food and do some other stuff too.
I did do another fan art of a dark world Asriel, that has red clothes on.
I think I will post that version another time, maybe...
unlike Ralsei,
Coralie doesn’t have a heart pattern on the front of her robe
but instead has the Delta Rune symbol on it instead.
The Meaning of the Name Coralie,  Is Maiden.
I also decided to have the tags for this to have Coralie be a Deltarune OC,instead of a Paper Trail OC....well technically she is, but she is just a Fanon OC and I’m not sure if there will be a Red version of Ralsei or not. but who knows if there will be a Red Ralsei or not.
the “Dead Name” of Coralie, would have to be a  Anagram of Asriel,
but Coralie had long threw away her Anagram-Asriel name.
I also want to mention that  the name Asriel,
can be both a boy and girl name,
most names are gender neutral.
turns out Asriel is both a Boy & Girl Name.
as for how Coralie looks without her hat,
I would say a Younger Version of Toriel but with longer hair.
I do suspect that Undertale Toriel might not be as innocent of a goat mom as we are made to believe.
and I believe that she does know about the Resets
as well as the theory that she and Sans have been working together,
that she has been killing the humans that came to the underground
and sending their souls to her ex-husband...
and all the lost items of the humans that came before Frisk,
were given to Sans from Undertale-Toriel, to hide around the underground outside the ruins, the only two that were missing
were the red ribbon and knife,
which the only reason why Undertale-Toriel might not of picked up the knife is because it was made of plastic.
I think that the Monsters in Undertale, might be allergic to plastic.
so it makes sense why she left that alone, but could of made a plan to try to get it later by getting gloves.
but she couldn’t find the red ribbon.
not a lot of fans have to agree about this theory about Undertale-Toriel.
but I believe King Asgore is innocent from the deaths of the human children that fell in the underground.
I don’t believe any of the human children made it past Toriel,
and were all killed by her when they tried to leave to go out of the ruins.
this would keep happening, even to the point where Sans came into the picture and she trusted him to take the human souls to her Ex.
Sans most likely left that out of his story to Frisk, on how he met Toriel.       
leaving out parts about Toriel giving him containers that contain the human souls.
even if Deltarune-Toriel can be a bad mom at times,
 like not noticing that Kris is unhappy or how their side of the room looks that might give some clues that something is wrong.
or that her own son might of cheated at the video games they played together with Kris, most likely giving them the knockoff game controller.  if you check under Asriel’s bed you will find out that it will say that there is a knockoff game controller with the normal controller.
Deltarune-Asriel could of at first been a jerk to Kris,
but over time started to act like a caring older brother to them.
I can’t help but view Toriel from Undertale AU,
as suspicious, after realizing that she has known about the Resets the whole time, and that is why when the Player/Frisk gets ready to leave in a Pacifist Timeline, she asks us not to come back.
and that if we choose not to go live with her, as her adoptive child.
she will make another hint that she knows whats going on.
Toriel in a Pacifist Timeline, knows whats going on
and the reason why she doesn’t show up unless it’s a True Pacifist Run
where we befriend everyone, is the only time she does stop the fight between Frisk and Asgore.
she doesn’t do so in the Genocide or Neutral Timelines,
only in the True Pacifist Timelines.
almost like she knew...not everyone has to agree with this,
but if the Canon Toriel is secretly behind the deaths of the humans that came before Frisk showed up, then it would make sense that she hides this out of guilt.
she grew guilty and even went as far as to place the full blame on her husband.
it is possible that Canon-Toriel from Undertale is really a Clone of the Original Toriel, who left Asgore after he declared war on humanity.
but how could Toriel have seen Asgore commit into the act of killing the humans, if she had never returned until stopping Asgore and Frisk’s fight in the pacifist timeline...?
the answer is that Asgore never took the life of any of the humans,
even if Toriel did mention that if Frisk/Player left the ruins,
Asgore would kill them, but Asgore never killed any of the humans.
at least that is my theory, I believe the true culprit was always the caretaker of the ruins aka Toriel, also known by Papyrus as Asgore’s Clone.
in the Fanon AU of Undertale, Toriel could be innocent of such crimes.
but in Fan Headcanon, I believe Toriel of Undertale is the true culprit of the humans who lost their lives.
so if this theory is true, the best version of Undertale-Toriel
would be the ones in the Fanon Undertale AU.
it’s really fine that not many agree about the theory.
anyway I want this to be the last drawing I post until in a few months.
I do plan to post this at the other place I post fan art at too.
if Coralie had a home,
it could be in the Dark World in Asriel’s Dorm at College.
so if Asriel does come home to see his family,
he might end up bringing the Dark World that Coralie lives in with him, as well as Coralie.
of course Coralie is a Fan OC,
this is still suppose to be a Paper Trail AU Fan Art.
  if Coralie was truly all alone in the Dark World she was born in,
with no other Darkeners but her around,
then it might of been a very lonely life for her.
I think Coralie would be a inch shorter than Ralsei.
I’m not 100% sure if there will be a Red Version of Ralsei,
but if there was one and it was going to be another boy,
who might be called “Strawberry” I think it would be interesting.
I don’t think I ever seen a Red one, but if there was one,
maybe they work with Knight...?
but not of their free will.
I also want to say that I don’t mean to seem to break my promise about not post anything until in a few months, but I wanted to draw this fan art
even if it is of a noncanon character that I named Coralie.
I just wanted to draw a Red version of Ralsei.
anyway once again Coralie is not canon, so please do not misinterpret.
I think I will sign off for a bit,
and then go back to reading Paper Trail once I sign back in.
I’m just gonna go watch the Resident Evil Village Walkthrough,
and also eat some food too.
so I’m just gonna hope that this time for sure will be the last post until a few months....and I will just check out other stuff on tumblr.
if I’m not back in a few hours, I will back tomorrow.
so see ya later and stay safe everyone.  
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keelywolfe · 5 years
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FIC: Petal ch.2
Summary: Hanahaki Disease: a fictional illness caused by one-sided love, in which the victim coughs up flower petals. It ends when either the love is returned or the victim dies.
Notes: This was a one-shot that suddenly took on life and now has a second chapter. Oops. 
Tags: Hanahaki Disease, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Pre-Relationship, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Major Illness,  Medical Experimentation, Spicyhoney, Papcest
Chapter One |
Read It On AO3
or
Read It Here!
~~*~~
For all that their worlds were supposed a flipped version of each other, Hotland in Underswap was remarkably the same. Barren and sweltering, and the only difference that Edge noted was that his Alphys would have several ‘deterrents’ situated around her lab for those who were unwise enough to drop by for a visit.
In this world, where the Royal Scientist was Undyne, a person Edge had found utterly disturbing the one time they’d met, getting to the lab was as easy as walking through the front door. To his disgust, the door wasn’t even locked and Edge walked right in with Stretch in his arms, disturbingly still with fresh sweat rising on his bones.
The first room he walked into was a collection of monitors, piled with messy stacks of papers interspersed with coffee mugs and paper cups filled with the moldy remnants of noodles. His faith that this Undyne might be able to help was fading, but there was no where else for him to turn, especially not in Underswap.
The scientist herself was not in sight, and Edge turned once, searching for some sign of where she was. There were several doors that led Stars knew where, even a few motorized walkways, but no fish Monster. In his arms, Stretch let out a low whimper, curling in on himself.
“Undyne!” Edge barked, echoing through the room to the high ceilings. Overhead, he heard a faint shriek, then shuffling, and when he turned, Undyne was coming down one of the walkways, fumbling on her glasses. She blinked to see them, a wild flush rising in her face, and he ignored the strangeness of an Undyne with two eyes, striding forward.
He paused when she tried to scramble back, a useless effort as the walkway only carried her forward again. Her expression was one of terror and Edge struggle for control, kneeling to set Stretch on the floor. “I need your help.”
“You…? I d-d-d, I d-don’t kn-know—” she stammered.
“Yes, you don’t know me,” Edge interrupted, “but I’m not important. Str- Papyrus is ill.”
“Papyrus?” she echoed, and for the first time she looked down at Stretch.
Who offered her a feeble grin and a wave, “hey, ‘dyne, sorry to bust up the joint.”
Whatever her fears of Edge, she crept forward and knelt by Stretch, her yellow eyes wide with concern. “You’re sick? W-what’s going on?”
“It’s difficult to describe,” Edge said curtly. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Show her.”
Despite his gray pallor, Stretch spluttered, faint orange rising in his cheekbones. “show her?”
Undyne looked between them in confusion. “Show me what?”
“His soul,” Edge said impatiently. The soft blue of her face went a deeper purple and Edge groaned, “Both of you spare me your modesty and show her!”
“but it’s feeling better…” Stretch protested faintly and when Edge growled threateningly, he snapped, “all right!”
Reluctantly, he pulled up his sweatshirt up to his collarbone, exposing his soul.
Whatever recovery he’d made on the boat seemed to be wearing off. Even through the barrier of his ribcage it was obvious that the withered petals had returned in various stages of peeling off. Where the edges curled away from the pale silver of his soul were turning a shade of dull gray that Edge knew all too well.
Any lingering embarrassment faded as Undyne’s eyes widened behind her glasses. She leaned in, oblivious to Stretch’s flinch, watching captivated as one of the petals fell. It smudged into dust and that shook Undyne from her staring.
“That’s fascinating,” she breathed. “I’ve seen soul fractures but never anything like that, not in person.” Edge shifted on his feet, watching her warily. He didn’t care for her expression of utter fascination, far too similar to his Alphys. But instead of evolving into sadistic curiosity, hers became concern. She blinked, seeming to remember there were actually people in the room with her and added, “B-but don’t worry, we’ll run some tests and figure it out!” She laid an awkward hand on Stretch’s shoulder and asked with a certain gentleness, “How long has this been going on, Papyrus?”
Edge didn’t miss the glance Stretch flicked his way before he said, “a little while.”
“She needs specifics,” Edge said curtly. “Be honest. I won’t tell your brother.” When Stretch still said nothing, Edge added grudgingly, “and I won’t yell.”
Stretch sighed heavily. “It started a few months ago.”
He kept his word and didn’t yell but something of it must have shown in his face because Stretch continued, hastily, “it wasn’t bad like this! there was maybe one spot and…and every once in a while a little spot would peel away. It didn’t start getting really bad until last week.”
Undyne made a thoughtful sound, scrabbling a scrap of paper and a chewed-on nub of pencil from the desk behind them. “Did something happen last week?”
“no,” Stretch muttered. It felt like a lie but Edge didn’t know enough to refute it. Stretch said nothing else, only sagged back on the hard floor. It must be uncomfortable and cold, laying on the tile floor with his soul exposed. but he made no move to climb into the nearby chair. Perhaps he couldn’t. Edge crouched, ignoring Stretch’s flinch, tugging his sweatshirt back down before lifted him again to settle him carefully into the chair. Undyne followed, madly scribbling notes on her paper.
“It was better for a moment on the boat,” Edge told her softly, thinking of the way the petals had briefly tightened back against his soul.
Undyne’s head jerked up, her eyes narrowing, “It got better in the boat? Wh-what happened?”
“nothing really,” Stretch mumbled, slouching back in the chair.
“Papyrus,” she said, gently but with a note of sternness. “I need to know if I’m going to help.”
He only cringed and shrugged. Edge sighed; why was Stretch being so difficult about this? “He asked why I cared what happened to him and I told him it was obvious I cared about him, for several reasons.”
There was nothing of the nervous Monster of before in the shrewd look Undyne gave him. “How much do you care?”
Edge scowled fiercely, “What the fuck does that--”
Undyne was unmoved by his irritation, persisting, “How much?”
“I wouldn’t say we were friends but-“
Stretch jolted, nearly falling out of the chair as he cried out. The sound he made was awful, close to an agonized scream and he groped for the hem of his sweatshirt, yanking it up to reveal a tornado of madly falling petals, a ghastly swirl that decayed into dust as it fell.
Edge had seen Monsters die, their damaged bodies falling to nothingness. None of that ever caused a reflection of hurt in his own soul and all he could do was stare dumbly, watching as Stretch was dying right in front of him.
“I would,” Undyne said suddenly, loudly enough for it to echo through the cavernous room. She gestured at him impatiently and when Edge only stood staring at the falling petals, she gave him a rough shove, “I mean. Don’t you want to be friends?”
“I…yes,” Edge caught on and added, louder, “Yes, I want to be friends. Stretch is…he… he can be...interesting.” A faint flicker went through Stretch’s soul, the fall of petals slowing and, encouraged, he went on, “He’s very good to his brother and...once I saw him being kind to one of the children in Snowdin. The child fell and Stretch caught them, helped them back to their feet.”
That incident had been a few weeks back. Edge and Red rounded the corner of the house from the basement to see Stretch standing outside smoking. A group of laughing children ran by and one of them slipped and nearly tumbled headfirst onto the ice. Before Edge could react, a gentle pulse of blue magic caught hold of them and the fear on their face eased into laughter as they were lifted and set on their feet.
“careful, kiddo,” Stretch was grinning, one hand lazily extended with a lit cigarette still between his glowing fingers and smoke curling from his nasal aperture. “thanks for testing out the gravity for me, looks like it’s still working.”
Edge only realize his brother had walked on when he heard the front door open and Blue’s happy greeting. He’d turned away from the scene, following Red quickly into the house. He hadn’t thought of it again until this moment.
As he talked, he saw the petals tightened further against Stretch’s soul, some of them even brightening to silver again.
But Stretch was shuddering, sweat dripping from his bones and his face twisted in pained bewilderment as he groaned, “what the fuck is going on?”
Undyne scribbled a few more hasty notes then tucked the paper into one of her expansive pockets. “I need to get some equipment for a few tests. You..um, can you help me carry it? I’m s-sorry, I don’t know your name.”
“Edge, and yes, I can.” Edge cast a glance at Stretch, wary of leaving him alone. But some color was returning to his cheekbones and when he caught Edge looking, he only nodded, waving him away.
He followed Undyne through another door that led down a darkened corridor. She didn’t speak until the door closed behind them and even then, her voice was pitched low, “I’ve never actually seen this before outside a medical journal or a comic book, but then, skeletons are rare monsters.”
“They are,” Edge agreed, warily. Before discovering the other universes, the only other Edge ever knew was his own brother. Undyne was much shorter in this universe, all together smaller than her alternate in Underfell, and even though she was walking quickly, Edge was forced to shorten his steps to keep from outpacing her.
She turned into another room that was almost as messy as the other, equipment piled haphazardly around. “Of course, I expect Papyrus’s soul is already more fragile, after everything that happened.”
Said with off-handed ease, but Edge bristled at the words, “What do you mean?”
Undyne paused, the instrument in her hands forgotten as she regarded Edge warily, “You d-don’t know?”
“Refresh my memory,” Edge said impatiently. Only to rear back in surprise as she glared at him with surprising fierceness.
“I know who you really are,” she said frankly. “I may not know your background, but I know about Gaster’s machine, so you can stop pretending.” Interesting. Perhaps all of his Undyne’s traits weren’t entirely absent in her. Edge said nothing, only met her gaze steadily. She looked away first, sighing heavily, “But everyone in our Underground knows about Papyrus and Sans, so even if I don’t tell you, someone else would. And your world must be different...”
She trailed away as she sat an overflowing box in the corner. “The former Royal scientist was experimenting on Monsters that had fallen down,” she said, softly. “I’ve read the notes and some of the things she was doing.” She shuddered. “It was awful. Somehow, the Queen discovered what was happening and when the Queen’s guard came to arrest her, they found out she had Papyrus and Sans here as well and she’d--” she hesitated, then forced out, “Well. I’m not sure what she did to them, the Queen let Papyrus keep all the papers on that. Said he deserved that much after everything.”
“This Gaster did that?” Why was there no equivalent in his world? He had no memory of anyone named Gaster.
She nodded unhappily. “Yes, it was a terrible scandal. They probably would have executed her if it weren’t for the fact that she was the only one who knew anything about the Core. She would have died anyway if it weren’t for Papyrus. She fell from a walkway running from the Guard, Papyrus used his magic to catch her.”
What kind of person rescued the one who had possibly tortured him and his brother, and for what end? A coward or a fool…or one who simply couldn’t let anyone die, no matter what they’d done.
“It must’ve taken a lot of courage for him to do that,” Edge said, slowly.
“I think so. Papyrus was a teenager and Sans was only a toddler. They locked Gaster away and those two moved to Snowdin.” She smiled a little. “Do you kn-know, Papyrus visits me sometimes. He’s friendly with everyone, he’s so funny and kind. But sometimes I won-n-nder if he comes here to check on me. Make sure I’m not making some of the same m-mistakes.”
Edge couldn’t say he agreed with Stretch being funny or kind...yet, he remembered that child in Snowdin. The way they laughed, the way Stretch laughed with him, holding them so carefully with his magic.
“So,” Undyne took a deep breath. “If his soul was d-d-damaged, somehow, it makes some sense that it would respond to yours. Your soul is whole and it would have the same resonance.” She bit her lip, considering, “I’ve seen s-something like this, in Gaster’s notes, I’ll need to find the journal.”
“How do you fix it?” Edge refused to entertain that there wasn’t a cure.
“I believe there is s-surgery involved to remove the tainted piece of the soul.” That light of interest returned to her gaze, turned inward. For all that she was obviously concerned for Papyrus, there was still the scientist in her, a shadow of his Alphys’s madness, who was eager to begin the search for answers. “I’ll have to do some research. Until then, you’ll need to s-stay with him and keep pretending to be friends.”
Edge stared at her, aghast. “I can’t simply pack up and move in with him to hold his hand for however long it takes you to find an answer,” Edge sputtered. “I have duties! Can’t his brother look after him?”
“If that worked, he wouldn’t be here to begin with,” she countered. “Didn’t you say you cared? If you don’t, he’s going to die,” she continued, mercilessly, “and if that's the case, you may as well have spared yourself the effort of bringing him here. I n-need at least a couple days to prepare. This is obviously tied to you somehow.” Edge bristled at the accusation in it, but Undyne pressed on, fighting with her words as much as him, “You saw how it sped up w-when you said you w-weren’t f-friends and when you changed your mind, it stopped. Our souls are made of love, hope, and compassion. He’ll n-need t-that from you to k-k-keep him going until I can figure out how to h-help him!” She paused, panting, but there was something of his Undyne in her as she added, “Unless you don’t care if he dies?”
It was calculated, but her blow hit its mark. And she wasn’t wrong.
“Very well,” Edge agreed heavily, wondering how exactly Blue was going to handle this.
Undyne’s smile was softer than he was accustomed, but he was no longer fooled by the changes in her exterior. “Wonderful! L-let me run some tests now and we’ll make a plan!”
She shoved a couple of instruments into his arms and gathered a few of her own before heading back to the main room. Edge kept silently at her heels. He knew when he was beaten and he wanted to get back to Stretch.
~~*~~ tbc
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topazshadowwolf · 6 years
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Someone New Visits the Shop
Decided to play with the idea of Asgore visiting Sans’s store in Deltarune. This is part of my soriel themed fics that came before it, so please, keep that in mind before reading. I was super excited to write Asgore since I have mostly written post neutral UT fics (meaning he is dead) or the fic had situations in which he really wouldn’t be there. Hope I did the guy some justice!
(I posted it on my AO3 and there are two other chapters. My AO3 goes by the same name. I will add the chapters to the UT Master List so they can be found. If I link them here, this post won’t be seen in searches of the tags.)
Running a store took far more energy than he thought it would. The first days of being open were slow as the citizens of the town were still discovering the new shop. Now that word had gotten around, it was becoming much busier.  As soon as he opened the store this morning a group of police officers, led by the fish monster Undyne, came barging in buying a hoard of donuts, coffee, other pastries, snacks, and drinks. By the time they had left, it felt like a massive whirlwind had blown through. Even as the majority of the group had left some of the figurative storm remained behind. Contrary to his belief that she’d rather not have to deal with him, Undyne was still there talking to him for reasons he couldn’t figure out.
“Here’s an idea,” she started, taking a bite out of a donut she had yet to pay for. At this point, he didn’t care. She could have it for free as long as she makes it a point to meet his brother. If she doesn’t, he’ll just add it on the bill next time she stopped in.
Before it disappeared with the rest, Sans grabbed himself a jelly-filled donut and started to eat it with some milk. Technically, he had grabbed two donuts for himself, but Undyne had snatched the second one right out of his hand and started feasting on it. All the more reason he wasn’t going to be picky about her paying; after all, he wasn’t going to pay for it either. Still, he had been hungry and would have liked to have had it, instead of her grabbing it and declaring she was “looking out for his health.” He had been late leaving home that morning and missed breakfast. He’ll count this as an early break since it wasn’t so busy. He’ll also remember to make sure Undyne was gone before eating anything from now on.
When Undyne couldn’t continue because she still needed to clear her mouth, Sans nudged a bottle of milk towards her. Again, it was something he could charge her for if she didn’t uphold her promise. She opened it and downed half of it before slamming the container down. “Hot fridges!”
That… that was not what he expected to hear. “hot... fridges?”
“Yeah! See, you have those freezers and fridges that keep all the food cold, but what if you had a thing like them but they keep food hot or warm,” Undyne smiled big as she said that.
Sans raised a brow ridge, trying to understand where this “idea” was coming from. “okay, i guess i need to warm up to the idea. just, uh… why?”
Undyne glared at him for the pun or the questioning of her idea, possibly both. “Why? Because hot food is better than cold food. That’s why!”
“yeah, ok,” Sans said as he reached over and grabbed Undyne’s giant, insulated, coffee mug. He let her fill her own mug, instead of filling up a bunch of cups. It seemed fair and will keep him from running out of coffee cups. Considering her, though, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’s drinking too much caffeine. The stuff was technically a drug. “i think it’s time i cut you off,” he joked, though a small part of him wanted to be serious.
“Take my coffee and I’ll book you for theft,” Undyne growled, showing off her dangerous looking teeth. Though, he believed she was joking too as there was a hint of a grin on her face.
Sans released her mug and held his hands up in surrender. “whatever you say, officer. i’ll keep the, uh… hot freezers in mind.”
“YOU BETTER! It’s the best idea! You could sell a lot of awesome precooked food!” Undyne said as she finally grabbed her things and started out.
Sans thought for a moment, returning to eating his donut. Precooked food did seem like a good idea after all. Though he still wasn’t sure about a “hot fridge,” she may be on the right track.  He’s just a little confused on how to properly use her idea. Sans finished his breakfast and got up. The snacks weren’t going to restock themselves.
He went in the backroom and dug out a box of snack foods to restock the shelves the officers had left bare. As he walked out of the stockroom he heard the annoying buzz/ding indicating that someone had entered the store. Perhaps, if he could figure out if that sound was meant to be a buzz or a bell he wouldn’t find it so annoying. The fact he can’t tell what it was, made the sound irritating. Though, that might be why his bro selected it. Papyrus most likely also knew Sans would be too lazy to change the sound, no matter how annoyed he got. “hello,” Sans said, not looking to see who walked in yet. “if you need help, let me know.”
“Oh, well, I’m here to talk to you, actually,” replied the customer. That was odd, he tried to think what he might have done to upset someone to cause them to want to talk with him. But, as far as he could tell there wasn’t anything that he had said or done that he hadn’t already been yelled at for. Other than that “befriended” joke, he had been trying his best to make a good impression for the sake of… well… the whole reason why he chose to move to this town. Curious, Sans set the box down and headed to the front of the store.
“alright, uh, what’s up?” Sans asked, but he quickly had an answer. This guy was up. He was tall. Granted, nearly everyone looked tall to Sans, but this guy was taller than most people he had considered tall.
“Howdy!” The goat monster said with a smile. In his hands was a vase with some flowers, which he handed to Sans. “I wanted to welcome you to the town. As a fellow shopkeeper, I thought I should take the time to come over and see how you were doing and if you needed any help.”
“oh, uh… thanks?” Sans looked at the flowers he was now holding. He then turned and put them on the counter as he looked them over more. Those flowers couldn’t be cheap. That flower shop must be making this guy plenty of money if he was willing to just give away flowers like that. “they look... nice. thanks for the welcome, i think i’m doing alright, though. if i do need help, i’ll know to ask… uh…”
“Oh, how rude of me, I’m Asgore Dreemurr.”
“asgore, pleasure to meetcha. the name’s sans, sans the skeleton.”
Wait, didn’t Tori say her Ex ran the flower shop? So then, Asgore was that guy? He didn’t seem like a bad person and Sans couldn’t help but wonder what it was that caused the two to get a divorce. Perhaps it was because he was friends with Toriel, but this meeting suddenly felt awkward. Asgore seemed oblivious to that, though. This guy wasn’t what Sans imagined when Tori was talking about her Ex last night. His imagination had conjured up a real jerk or creep, not this person with a large happy smile and friendly gaze. Though, in retrospect, Tori most likely wouldn’t have married him in the first place if he had been like the monster Sans had made up in his mind. She would have avoided a guy like that if that was the case. Which brings back the question of what happened? Anyway, as much as he wondered about why it really wasn’t his place to know. If Tori wanted to tell him, then, and only then, he would know.
“A pleasure to meet you as well, Sans the Skeleton.” Asgore extended a paw to Sans, and Sans took it. His far smaller boney hand easily disappeared as if engulfed by the larger furry paw. Ever so gently, Sans felt Asgore’s claws tap on his bones as they shook hands. It was not a threat and was unintentional most likely. Like most monsters with paw-like hands, claws were just part of the deal. He had felt claws against his bones when shaking hands plenty of times. As long as he isn’t scratched, he has never minded that feeling. Yet, at that moment, it almost sent a shiver up his spine.
The more Sans looked at the guy, the more he saw that nothing about this guy hinted he would even threaten a fly. Still, that light contact of those sharp claws reminded Sans that this seemingly harmless monster still had his teeth, claws, and magic. As much of a pacifist this guy was, he could still fight. And he was still trying to regain Tori’s affections. Trying harder than Sans ever would have. Chances are if Asgore felt threatened by Sans, there was little Sans could do to not be dusted by the guy. If the far smaller and fragile skeleton had any sense of self-preservation he’d make sure his friendship with the lady in question stayed just that.
And yet…
“Well, I should be going,” Asgore said with the same bright, happy smile. “I have a shop to run…”
“you need anything while you’re here? even if you can’t keep ‘em at your shop, i can have the stuff dropped off later,” Sans figured the guy had to need something, and if he had the cash as the flowers hinted, it would be best to encourage business.
“Oh, well, thank you, but no… I… well… I’m running a little short this week,” Asgore admitted.
That caused Sans to pause in thought. Then he started to put all the small and subtle clues together. First, there was Tori, who was just in here last night complaining about the flowers Asgore gives her. Then he remembered that, just the other day, he saw an alleyway with trash cans packed full of well-tended flowers. He thought it was odd then but didn’t think much on it at the time. Now, though, he couldn’t think of anywhere else those flowers could have come from other than Asgore’s Flower show. Now Asgore, the flower shop owner who should be trying to earn money with the flowers he grows, just gave him, Sans the skeleton, expensive looking flowers as a welcome gift.
Asgore wasn’t bringing in a lot of money, he was bleeding it with his overly generous behaviors. Instead of selling his flowers, Asgore was giving them away to his ex-wife and anyone else he thought needed a smile from having a bright bunch of flowers. Sans inwardly winced with a sudden pang of guilt. Here the guy was being nice and Sans tried using that kindness for personal gain. The vase of flowers was a kind gift that Sans didn’t even know if the guy could even really afford. At this point, he couldn’t pay for those flowers or reject them and tell Asgore to go sell them. If he tried to, it would come off as an insult. Judging by how Asgore seems to be, he’d most likely be hurt by that, but hold all the pain inside.
Geez, this guy was almost hopeless with his poor business skills, but he made up for that by being easily likable. No wonder people were bugging Tori about taking him back. If they were only looking at it from Asgore’s side, they would feel sympathy for the guy and just want to see him happy. But Sans still stood by what he said to Tori. If she didn’t want him back in her life, she shouldn’t feel forced to take him back. It’d be worse if she did, for both of them.
Sans put his hands in his pockets and thought for a moment. “that’s alright,” he finally said, kicking himself for what he was about to do. He shouldn’t be so nice, he needs the money, but he wasn’t going to let someone go hungry. If he didn’t do this, he knew he would only feel guilty for turning him away. After all, Asgore did ask Sans if he needed any help. He should return the favor. “i’ll open a tab for you and you can pay it off later.” Though at the rate Asgore was going, Sans wasn’t going to hold his breath. Chances are, he’ll never see that money, but who knows, maybe he will. “us shop owners gotta stick together, right?”
“Thank you,” Asgore said with a bright smile. Something Sans said must have lifted his mood, as Asgore happily accepted the offer. He then grabbed a few things that he apparently needed. It really was just a few; obviously, he didn’t want to take advantage of Sans’s generosity which Sans was thankful for. Asgore had grabbed only the bare essentials, that’s for sure. Sans was tempted to add a few things to the bag to give the guy a few more things that he may need. But he decided not to push it at this point. Sans made a note of what Asgore got and the cost then waved the guy goodbye.
After he was alone again, Sans sat there a moment and sighed. He looked at the flowers, understanding now what Tori meant about feeling guilted into forgiving him. By no means was Asgore trying to guilt Sans into being nice, the guy was genuinely trying to be kind. There was no malice there or ill intent. The guy really just wanted Sans to feel welcomed to the area. And while Sans didn’t need to open the tab, seeing how everything was it just felt rude not to return the favor. It would be awesome if they lived in a world where they could just forget about money and all be kind like that. Or if the flowers had just been a simple bunch without the vase, Sans wouldn’t have felt such a need to pay Asgore back. Not that he felt bad that he had helped the guy, as it was clear Asgore needed help. But, Sans had this job for a reason. And while Sans could afford to do this with one customer (plus the kids who he’ll have to keep a socket out for), he can’t do this for everyone. Not if he wanted to keep his house.
Regardless, Sans might be heartless in the literal sense, but he wasn’t figuratively. He’ll keep this running tab for the guy because he was nice and deserved a break. It might not be the break Sans was sure Agore really hoped for, the one where Toriel forgave him and took him back. But it was still a chance for him to not feel so stressed by needs. After Sans’ talks with Toriel, he was surprised Asgore was still hoping for Tori to take him back, but that seemed to be the obliviousness of him. He must not be picking up on the cues Toriel was giving him. At least Toriel seemed alright with her kid visiting Asgore, which he was sure brought the guy some joy. So, hopefully, she won’t mind her friend being nice to her ex-husband. She didn’t seem the vindictive type to Sans… maybe a bit bitter, but not vindictive. Angry, but not hateful. Willing to speak ill of Asgore but not do anything against him.
But then, Sans didn’t know her that well, yet. This was just his first and second impressions. But last night… she really opened up to him. If there was hate there, he didn’t sense it from her. Who knows, there might be hope for the guy after all.
Thinking back to last night and that look on her face while she spoke about Asgore, Sans doubted it. Add in what she said, he was sure that even if Tori did forgive the guy that the relationship was still over. And perhaps it was best for the both of them. They would have a chance to find someone new. Someone who would love them and be there for them. Someone who Tori could be open with and feel comfortable with.
A person who shares her sense of humor and loves to hear her laugh.
… huh… at some point, he stopped thinking of the two and just thought about Tori...
He got up from his stool and went back to restocking the snacks. It was time for him to turn his focus back to everything he needed to do and stop thinking about Tori. All these thoughts of Toriel were reminding him of the sound of her laugh and how wonderful that boisterous sound was. Her clever wordplay. Really, there was a lot about her that was beautiful. Even when she was glaring down at Sans with all her wrath behind her gaze.
… He had no sense of self-preservation, did he?
And this was just the start of the day, he didn’t even have his lunch break yet.
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annaisu · 7 years
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Cutthroat Kitchen: Prepare Nyehself!
AN: Cutthroat Kitchen is under rights of Food Network, and I make no claims to it as such. Alton Brown is a real person, and I have no claim to him, either. Papyrus, however much I would love him to be real and to lay claim to him, is in fact created and owned by Toby Fox.
This is a work of fiction created for @undertailfanficcontest starring Papyrus in the humor category! And let me tell you, this was the first time I’ve ever lowered my word count on purpose.
Tags: Humor, one of the characters is a bastard, just deserts, friendship
Summary: Papyrus is quite pleased to be part of a cooking competition where he can show off his skills – only his opponents are paying for him to wear a catsuit and cook with aluminum foil utensils?
Tonight, hopes would be crushed, dreams would be shattered, pride would take a mighty fall, and these chefs were going to spend all their money making sure that the other cooks were the ones to suffer. Alton Brown surveyed his domain, feeling a sadistic glee begin to grow. Yes; this would be quite the fun show.
His introductory speech began playing in the background, just the thing to set the mood as he pulled out a metal briefcase. “I have $100,000 of cold hard cash; four chefs get $25,000 each. But if they want to leave the kitchen with any of this cash, they have to survive three culinary challenges – and each other. In a game where sabotage is not only encouraged, it’s for sale.” Memories of past challenges passed through his mind – ice cream made with liquid nitrogen, ramen without any noodles, his victims forced to cook while stuffed in cumbersome and humiliating ‘superhero’ outfits, cooking in canoes – good times, good times.
The host smiled in the anticipation of the poor, unsuspecting chef’s future frustrations. They thought they knew – they always did – but they were always wrong. Tonight, there was something even more special than normal – something that had never been seen on this show before. They would be host to a true monster – and only time would tell if he was a monster in the kitchen as well.
He hid just out of sight, watching as the four contestants descended from his ‘tower’, one at a time. They had all given their biography to the camera before this event, and he recalled the pertinent facts as they paraded across his kitchen – let them prance while they still have the chance.
Dave was first; a big, burly southern guy. He’d discovered a taste for cooking as a kid and learned his craft from his grandma’s hip – classic southern boy. He was here to show off that country strength, to have fun and make some money. He laid out his fine array of steak knives and cooking utensils, folding his arms across his chest in a gesture of preemptive defiance.
Hank was next; he was much slimmer than the first, well dressed with hair slicked back. He walked as if he was the second coming of Gordon Ramsey, and had the attitude to go with it. He was so proud to serve his food only to the elite, seemed to think that they were the only ones deserving of his work. His little chef kit was well made – likely tailored and made of expensive leather. Alton didn’t bother to hide his grin – he did so love making this type of person suffer.
Their special guest came next, bounding into the room with disturbing levels of energy for what looked like the dead. A tall skeleton, dressed in red booty shorts and a white crop top, proudly took his place behind his stand. He pulled out what looked like a homemade bag, containing his cooking utensils with… faces and hearts stenciled on top? And stickers of spaghetti? The apron he was wearing, somehow securely wrapped around his skeletally thin – and just skeletal in general – body looked well-made and well-loved. Little patches had been torn and sewn up, and there were messily embroidered pictures of… a human and a skeleton holding hands at the bottom? And the words “COOLEST CHEF” splayed across the chest? Well, this Papyrus was certainly going to be a fun contender.
Papyrus was here to show off his cooking skills and represent monster-kind – “WELL, MYSELF MOSTLY, BUT ALSO MY TEACHER AND FRIEND UNDYNE! AND MY FRIEND THE HUMAN, AND MY BROTHER THE SLOVENLY SLOB – SANS, IF YOU’RE LISTENING, PICK UP YOUR SOCK RIGHT NOW! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE EMBARESSING ME WHEN YOU’RE NOT EVEN HERE!” The sheer force of his words, combined with his macabre appearance, created quite the frightening visage. Yet, he was wearing a smile, and was radiating a friendly atmosphere – quite the interesting contradiction.
Cynthia was his last victim of the day – and the only female, unless the monster was hiding something unexpected under his short shorts and poofy shirt. She was from up north, divorced and with three kids. After returning to college, she had opened a very friendly family restaurant. She was here to prove to her Ex that she was worth something, that she could succeed no matter the odds life placed before her, and take home some money to her teenaged kids. She took her place as the last in the row, pulling out a well-maintained kit.
The host prepared himself, ready to introduce himself to the poor saps. Time to see which cooks would trip and fall in a blaze of humiliation!
“HELLO, FELLOW CHEFS!” The monster beamed out, and Hank didn’t bother resisting rolling his eyes. The creature on his right was loud, unsightly, and creepy as heck. The blank, empty black eyes seemed to stare into his soul as he accidently met the thing’s searching gaze. He shuddered, and pointedly turned his back to it, facing his human fellow chef.
“Think you’re suited up for the day?” he casually asked, seemingly unintentionally tugging the collar of his suit as he surveyed the other man’s dress. Plaid shirt, jeans, cutthroat kitchen apron – hmph.
The other fellow – Dave, or something equally plebian, let out a hearty laugh. “I think I’m quite well suited for cooking, thanks, but don’t you have a business meeting to be getting to?”
Hank sniffed, not bothering with a comeback. It seemed that neither of his temporary neighbors would be worth speaking to in the least. He couldn’t help flinching as the skeleton started shouting again, animatedly talking with the woman at the other end. He was quite ready for the host to come out and for this farce to begin.
Alton did appear, with a casual suit and a bombastic attitude – quite the match for the figurative bombs he would be dropping throughout the show. At the beginning of the round, he’d assign a dish, and they’d have 60 seconds to collect absolutely everything they would need to cook said dish from the walk-in cupboard – and they’d only have seconds to compose their mental grocery list.
Alton finally started talking about what he was looking forward to the most – auctioning off sabotages, where he would be encouraged to buy ridiculous inconveniences for his opponents. They would all be given 25 Grand – likely more than any of these plebeians had ever had in their lives’ – to purchase said items, and whatever was left at the end the winner would take home. Of course, Hank himself had no real need for this money, and was already planning to spend all of it tripping up his unworthy opponents – mostly that ridiculous skeleton and the woman, neither of which had any right to be in the same kitchen as him.
It never even crossed his mind for a single second that he might not succeed, so assured of his victory was he. Not a single other person in the room, save the well-dressed host, was even worthy of a second glance or thought of consideration. No, he was the only one that would claim this culinary victory – and he’d make his ‘opponents’ miserable the entire time through!
Alton opened up his briefcase and began offering out the money – two bundles apiece. As the uncultured savage to his left rubbed the money to his cheek, clearly enjoying the entirely new sensation of wealth against his skin, he daintily picked out his two bundles of cash. He looked upon them with disgust, wondering just how many grimy hands had handled these $100 bills.
Returning to beside the metal table in the center of the open area, the host began speaking. “To start everybody off on a roll, I’d like to see a good, breakfast casserole!” Alton cheerfully exclaimed, bouncing slightly as he spoke. Hank jumped as a shriek of outrage sounded from beside him, and Alton paused in his words.
“WAS THAT A PUN?!” the monster exclaimed. Resisting a grimace, Hank pointedly ignored its words. He supposed monsters were far too uneducated and stupid to recognize even the most basic parts of human humor, even of such a low a form as bad puns.
Alton didn’t seem to take offense, though he did seem to be slightly thrown off. “It was indeed a wonderful play on words, only some of the most punny forms of fine humor!” Hank peeked to his right, watching as the skeleton groaned and covered his eyes.
“HUMAN, THAT JOKE WAS ALMOST AS BAD AS MY BROTHER’S – IT WAS COMPLETELY BARE BONES! NYEH-HEH-HEH-HEH!” the skeleton cackled and Hank grimaced .
Alton, contrary to Hank, seemed quite pleased by this reaction. “Well then, I hope the skele-ton more that I have won’t break you before you finish your breakfast casserole ! You have 60 seconds to gather everything you’d need to make this delightful dish, starting now!”
Startled, Hank was a second behind everyone else in grabbing his basket to go shopping – and thus he had the clearest view of when the skeleton did a front flip right over the judging table. He stared, unbelieving, not moving as time ticked by – only when he realized that all the other chefs had made it into the cupboard did he start forward on his own.
What was that skeleton doing?! He tried not to stop and stare as the skeleton darted around the cupboard, items seemingly flying into his basket of their own accord. He distractedly groped for his next ingredient, unable to ignore the spectacle before him.
“30 seconds remaining!” called a very unwelcome voice from just beyond the cupboard door. Hank felt the panic well up, as he realized he didn’t have half the things he would likely need, and could not for the life of him remember the other half. He began grabbing everything he could get his grubby little hands on.
“10, 9” Nonono- Hank knocked the closest things into his basket and ran out the door, knocking into another contestant and cursing as the collision sent several ingredients flying out of his basket as he fought to make it through the door. “4, 3,” he burst free, panting as he staggered back to his station. “2, 1, time’s up!” Discreetly mopping his sweaty brow, Hank surveyed his spoils of war, and everyone else’s as well. He… technically had everything he needed for a good, refined breakfast casserole.
The skeleton, who seemed just as cheery as could be, had a neatly packed basket full of a random assortment of goods – clearly, he’d just grabbed whatever was closest to hand! Hank ignored the hypocrisy of his own statement, peering around the Halloween prop to see the girl’s basket, and then pointedly looked away. She seemed well-enough prepared, so what. The country hick to his left seemed to have filled his basket with bacon, bacon… and more bacon.
Finally, their host was beginning to roll out the sabotages. Hank licked his lips in anticipation, watching as the symbol of the other’s demise was slowly lowered… and revealed to be a roll of aluminum foil. “Win this, and you can force a chef to give up all of their cooking utensils and pots, and they must instead make their own cooking!  Who’s willing to start off the bid with $500?”
“$1,000!” he cried, and waited to see if anyone would dare challenge him.
“$1,200,” came the drawling voice on his right. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, surrounded by people who couldn’t recognize their inferiority.
“$2,000,” he bid back, noticing that the skeleton seemed quite unconcerned. He ended up spending $3,500 on his roll of aluminum foil, but was quite pleased at this deal as he debated on which of his foes should suffer first. The man, for daring to challenge him, or the skeleton for being here and existing in the first place. Yes, definitely the skeleton.
He sauntered up to Alton, trading his money for the foil and dropping it on the thing’s station, noting with disdain the cheap and marked up case that held the thing’s now unusable cooking implements. He returned to his station, satisfied, and ready to win another bid. He ignored the skeleton’s words of, “WOWIE! IT’LL BE JUST LIKE COOKING AT HOME, AFTER UNDYNE AND I DESTROYED ALL OF THE POTS WITH THE FORCE OF OUR COOKING PROWESS!” Was this thing serious?
Hank fumed as the skeleton shaped his cutlery with ease, somehow forming a perfect looking knife and a well-rounded bowl in less than a minute. “I HAVE A VERY SHARP MEMORY, AND I HAVE ENCOUNTERED QUITE THE NUMBER OF KNIVES, YOU SEE! NYEH!” Just ignore the skeleton. “WOWIE, MR. HOST-HUMAN, YOU SURE HAVE A LOT OF ALUMINUM FOIL! LET’S SEE WHO CAN WEAR IT BEST!”  Wait, wear it?
Looking up from where his prep work was beginning to come together, Hank saw the judge and the thing both wearing ridiculous looking foil hats. The Judge was wearing something like a pirate hat, and the bag of bones was rocking… an open-faced helmet? Just when did he have time to make that ridiculous thing? Hank had barely even gotten his work laid out properly, yet this thing had already crafted his workstation and costume decorations?
Growling in frustration, Hank was at least pleased to see that the country cad was struggling, if no one else was – thanks to the two other sabotages he’d bought and delivered. Reassured, he returned to his work. He didn’t have all the ingredients that he wanted, but he… probably had enough. Probably.
"Wha- that's totally cheating!" Hank declared, staring aghast at the pearly blue bones flashed around the skeletons station, dancing to a tune no one else could hear. The clubbed end of one bone was stirring the batter, and the skeleton was using the tip of the other as a sharp knife to slice his vegetables into perfectly sectioned slices. The craziest part was how the spinning bone was doing so without any guidance - it was just moving about on its own!
"OH!" The wretched skeleton faced Hank with a beaming smile. "I SEE THAT YOU HAVE NOTICED THE BEAUTY THAT IS MY CONJURED BONES!" The bony chef paused, a worried look sliding across his face. "PLEASE DON'T BE JEALOUS, FELLOW CONTESTANT HUMAN! I REALIZE THAT YOU CANNOT SUMMON BRILLIANT BONES OF YOUR OWN, BUT I AM QUITE PREPARED TO LEND YOU SOME OF MINE! A GREAT PERSON AND CHEF, SUCH AS I, MUST ALWAYS BE GENEROUS AND KIND TO OTHERS!"
Gritting his teeth, Hank barely resisted spitting at the stupid, ugly monstrosity beside him. "I wouldn't touch any of your filthy bones if you paid me." Unnoticed by any of the contestants, most especially Hank who was once again doing his best to ignore everything around him, Alton’s eyes glinted with a brilliant, sadistic new idea.
Hank barely hid the curl of his lip into a sneer as the judge appeared – a woman, of all things.
The judge finally made her decision after trying each dish –  she ‘had to’ let the farmer go. Hank watched as the man returned his untouched cash to Alton, calmly accepting his fate and giving Alton a ‘manly’ handshake. Of course Hank had won this round – and he fully expected to win the next two and humiliate everyone else along the way.
Finally, the round was finished, and they had a short break to talk to the cameras while the next round was prepared.
Cynthia’s new friend helped her stand up, using a strength at odds with his skeletal appearance to bring her to her feet as they walked together back to the main room. They’d had a relatively quiet and quite friendly chat between the rounds, but now it was time to return.
Alton waltzed back in with full aplomb, wearing what seemed to be a pinstripe suit at first glance – until Cynthia realized the stripes were actually noodles hanging onto his suit. “Welcome back contestants, and get ready for round two! It’s certain to tie you up into knots, and leave someone stranded! We’re going for a true classic today – spaghetti!”
Papyrus squealed in glee beside her and she gave him a smile, already knowing of his love for the pasta dish. She couldn’t help but take satisfaction on how the sleezeball skittered away in startlement.
“Indeed! You are free to create any variety of spaghetti you wish, this traditionally meaty pasta dish! We have all the ingredients you could need, and your shopping time begins… now.
Cynthia darted off after Papyrus, falling behind as he used the table to launch himself further forward, sketching the list in her head and the best way to grab each item as fast as she could. Having children and anticipating their needs had prepared her for this, and she was at a huge advantage to the business-chef that was only slightly lagging this time.
Making her way back to her station at a much more sedate pace than she had left it, Cynthia double checked that she had grabbed everything that she wanted for her chicken alfredo spaghetti – she did. A glance to the side told her that both of her fellow chefs had collected plenty as well. She thought back to the first round and couldn’t help but to snicker – Hank had forgotten plenty of things in the beginning rush, and she could easily overhear his muttered cursing whenever he came across his missing ingredients.
Turning her attention back to the host, she braced herself for the first sabotage to come. “Well, now that we’ve spent time together and found ourselves closer together, I think it’s time to get closer still!” Alton knocked on the panel, waiting for the item to be lowered before he revealed – a length of rope. Cynthia paled, memories flashing before her eyes. Ropes never meant anything fun for her. “Win this auction, and you can force your opponents to be tied together! They will be forced to cook together, work together, and stick closer than a strand of spaghetti that was left in a pot overnight. Starting bid at-“
“$2,000!” Hank interrupted once again, and she would have glared had she not been silent with fear. She saw Papyrus glance at her out of the corner of his eye, and watched as the eye socket closest to her slowly closed, then reopened. Neither of them said anything.
“Opening bid at $2,000, anyone willing to give me 21-hundred? Anyone, anyone? Going once, going twice – sold, to the gentlemen in the boring suit for two thousand dollars!” She smiled weakly – compared to the host’s noodle suit, Hank’s suit was rather boring, if more expensive than what she spent on groceries in a month. There was a reason she was competing for a cash prize, despite going up on TV against others being entirely new for her.
“Now, I know that this show can be a bit of a cat-astrophe sometimes…” Alton trailed off, opening the panel to reveal a cat headband. “But I was feline like I couldn’t paws-ibly resist! Win this bid, and you can force your opponent to dress up with these adorable cat ears, a matching cat tail,” he continued, pulling up a long tail from beneath the table – it had to be at least 4 feet of solid black faux-fur! “And of course, the cutest part of cats – their little paws!” He ducked his hands under the table once more, this time arising with giant, fluffy gloves that completely encapsulated his hands. “As sweet as they look, these don’t make for the easiest cooking experience! Who’s willing to buy the best catsuit seen on this show yet?”
“$2,000!” Hank predictably exclaimed.
Cynthia decided that this was one outfit she was willing to spend money on, if only for the sheer humiliation value in forcing the uptight man into it. “2,500!”
Hank still ended up being the winner, but he spent a full 5k on a fursuit – and he ended up giving it to Papyrus, who immediately donned the admittedly adorable outfit, beaming all the while. She was pretty sure Hank only had about 11k left.
“Now, people, don’t get yourselves tied into a knot; we’ve got a giant pile of noodles right here that have done that already!” Cynthia groaned as she a wagon with a proper Gordian’s Noodle Knot roll into the center of the room. “Win this auction, and the chef of your choice will have to untangle this knot before they are able to begin cooking!”
She fought long, and Papyrus fought hard, but they both backed down when Hank bid a whopping ten thousand dollars on the ridiculous time waster. He had to be down to the last of his money – he had successfully won every bid so far, often paying exorbitant sums to do so. To her dismay, she was the one gifted with the lovely time waster.
“Now, I know we had someone who wouldn't pay to touch our friendly skeleton's bones - but how about we have someone else pay for it?" Alton called out, this time not revealing anything from the behind the screen. So this was why Papyrus had been called away separately – so that he could give permission for this.
“$1,500!” She called out, before Hank could even try. If she was right…
“$2,000!” He bid back, and she felt her heart sink. Was she wrong?
“AAAANK,” Alton called, doing a remarkable impression of an incorrect buzzer. “You, my besuited gentleman, are only in possession of $1,500 – something new to you, I’m sure.” Hank stared, slack jawed, and Cynthia felt the rising tides of victory. “Now, unless someone else can pay at least sixteen-hundred dollars, this round is going to this lady right here – no? Going once, going twice – are you sure you don’t want to speak up again, Hank – sold, to Cynthia! Please approach your fellow contestant for his magic touch, and then confiscate all your victim’s knives, spoons, whisks, and other various implements.
Cynthia did so with great glee, taking the two large bones and handing them over to Hank, who still had a horrified look on his stunned face.
“Now, chefs, two of you are ready to proceed to cooking, and one of you is to remain here with me. As soon as this lovely lady finished, she and our resident monster will be strung together tighter than the red strings of fate!” Cynthia couldn’t help but shudder – at the thought of being tied up, and the thought of being tied to another person like that. “On my mark… go!”
She paused for a moment in thought, then nodded. “Wait one moment, please.” She approached the wagon with her longest, sharpest knife. “The Gordian knot couldn’t be solved, until…” With a few sharp slices, she began carving the ball into two. “Until the knot was split.” Noodles fell to either side, losing shape as their knot came undone.
Alton groaned theatrically. “At this rate, you’ll finish the task in a tenth of the time it took to set it up!” She flashed him a smile, but didn’t reply as she was too busy straightening out the short strands on the table before her, smearing them out in great handfuls and shaking them straight.
“Just have to raise them properly, keep them on the straight and narrow,” She quipped. “Make them realize the consequences if they don’t straighten out.
All too soon, she was back in front of her cooking station, and she realized that she had only hastened the arrival of the dreaded rope. This was a Gordian knot she couldn’t cut. Papyrus cheerful greeting helped soothe her nerves, and she managed to keep her breathing steady as an extra helper loosely tied them together.
“ARE YOU READY, HUMAN PARTNER?” She nodded, anchoring her perceptions on his solid voice to fend off flashbacks. “AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE HAD A HEAD START AND CAN CLEARLY SUCCEED DESPITE ANY DIFFICLUTIES, I INSIST THAT WE HEAD TO YOUR STATION FIRST!”
“Thanks, Papyrus,” she offered him a small smile as they toddled over to her station. “Just let me know when you’re ready to switch back, alright? We want to be sure that both of our dishes succeed.” They were united in a single purpose – take down the most unlikeable person in the room, and send him home crying.
Looking over at the disgruntled face of said ‘foe’, she laughed at how he seemed to be trying his best to touch the lowest amount of surface area of the lightly glowing bones .
Hank began to audibly fume, screeching with unmanly terror whenever he touched too much of the magical bone. Everybody else traded eye rolls, though Papyrus seemed to be doing his best to remain dignified and proud, as was befitting of the mascot of monsters.
Someone who wasn’t trying to remain dignified was Alton, busy attaching more noodles to his costume as they worked. Soon, it wasn’t just spaghetti noodles, but penne, rotini, linguini, lasagna, and just about every other noodle that existed. Soon, his outfit was a mishmash of different carbohydrates, and Papyrus actually stopped to grin and give him a giant thumbs up. “NOTHING CAN TOP PASTA THAT SUIT, HUMAN! SAVE MY OWN COOL OUTFIT OF COURSE, NYEH-HEH-HEH!” The next time Cynthia saw Papyrus’ outfit, it had noodles draped across it in matching reflection to Alton’s outfit, and a noodle circlet around the cat ears which had been taped to his head. The skeleton made the noodle look work .
“I’m sorry, but I have dismiss… Chef Cynthia.” Cynthia nodded, determinedly biting at her lip and refusing to cry. Her new friend had passed, after all, in a sparkling flame of glory. He had to win and destroy that Hank in the next round. She couldn’t hear the judge’s explanation over the pounding refrain in her head, how she was worthless and her cooking was barely even fit for dogs, and-
“Arf!” …She was hearing things now, wasn’t she? She turned slowly, looking for the source of the sound. Happy barking came from behind her station, and then a little white dog popped out – muzzle coated with her spilled spaghetti. Apparently, her meals were fit for dogs – this one certainly seemed to be enjoying it.
“NOOOO!!!!” Papyrus cried, sinking to his knees. “WHY MUST YOU PERSIST IN TORMENTING ME, WHEREVER YOU GO?” The dog just yipped happily, grabbing one of the bones and trotting up to the judge’s table.
“Does this dog belong to you?” The judge, Antonia, asked. She was already petting the dog, which seemed to be preening in the attention, licking it’s chops.
“WHAT?!?!” Papyrus yelped. “OWN THE MEDDLING CANINE? NO ONE OWN’S THE ANNOYING DOG – THE ANNOYING DOG OWNS YOU!” In the short amount of time it took Papyrus to speak, A.D. had eaten all of Cynthia’s spaghetti, all of Papyrus’ spaghetti, and had knocked Hank’s weird dish right onto his suit.
“Good dog,” Cynthia whispered to it as it came up to her, and Hank began to scream and rant, all composure long spent. “Very good dog.”
Papyrus was very pleased and somewhat saddened with how this cooking competition was turning out. He had made a new friend! And had fun cooking with said friend! And got to dress up like a cat, which he most certainly did not enjoy at all, nope, and he was definitely not looking forward to seeing Alphys’ reaction when she saw the show!
Yet this brand-new experience had been soured by his other neighbor, the cruel human with the heart of pride and greed. Papyrus was still having fun, still enjoying the novelty of being on TV – he was on television right now! Like Mettaton! – and still so proud of being one of the first monsters that truly showed themselves to the human world. He was monsterkind’s mascot after all, and he needed to present a good face!
Even when Angry-Human attacked him and his new friend, again and again and again. That was the only way the prideful human was still on top – by putting other’s down. It saddened Papyrus, knowing that the human could do better – and knowing that the man would likely refuse to ever try being so.
Still, it had been quite amusing to see the man gaping at his brilliance, clearly impressed by his stunning flips and culinary feats! Perhaps if he was lucky, he would still manage to walk out of here with two new friends!
Papyrus wasn’t worried as Host-Human declared the challenge: Upside-down Pineapple cake. He may not have been the best cook below ground, but he had learned much in the years above – how to cook for humans, how to cook without burning the house down, and how to pay a mortgage! All very exciting things!
Humming happily, Papyrus took his groceries to his workstation and happily set up camp, chopping away, mixing and stirring with exacting precision. The clever yet cruel sabotages were to come in the middle of this final challenge, rather than before! He couldn’t help but be impressed by some of the ideas – and the many ideas of the episodes before this one, his own episode. If he won, he would be the star of the show!!!! Even more widely seen than Mettaton, star of the Underground! Such an incredible new experience… as was this entire adventure!
Fighting together with his ally to defeat the foe, finding the secret treasures hidden in the closet of glorious foods – as soon as he returned home to his brother, he was insisting on getting a matching pantry! – to talking with so many humans and to the camera… and hopefully, he would have the new experience of bringing enough money home for his family. The above-ground had been semi-welcoming, but it wasn’t always… kind. But that’s why Papyrus was here!
“Chefs!” Host-Human called out and Papyrus peeked up, staring in outrage as he saw the Annoying Dog perched on top of the judging table. “I know that sometimes you can’t always find everything you need in the pantry in the limited time you have, so I took the liberty of shopping for you! For a small price, this basket of food is yours to do with as you wish – keep it for yourself or swap out your opponent’s basket!” Papyrus couldn’t help the rush of glee that filled him – his foe had no money with which to win this prize.
The ingredients Host-Human was holding were… somewhat what was necessary for the desert, but they were also of the lowest quality possible. Now, Papyrus knew that he could easily deal with such a handicap – it was no different than struggling for human and foreign ingredients underground, but… wasn’t it almost fair, for a human to be forced to deal with this instead of a monster, for once?
Yes, Papyrus decided. This was karmic justice, of which his brother would approve most heartily! “$1,500!” he cheerfully called out, knowing that the human had no more than that. Indeed, moments later, he gracefully gifted the human with the food, and went to take back the old basket – only to draw back in surprise as the human spat in it and at him.
“NOW, HUMAN, THAT IS NO WAY TO REACT,” Papyrus scolded. “THAT’S NOT THE SPIT-RIT OF THINGS! NYEH-HEH-HEH!” he laughed as he retreated out of range, unwilling to get human slobber on his pearly bones. The dog’s slobber was bad enough!
Several minutes later, Alton spoke up again, while petting the dog. “You know, something interesting about the upside-down pineapple cake is that it’s turned upside-down. I know, who would have guessed? So, I was thinking… how about turning one of you upside down? Whenever you want to work at your station, you must be suspended in this sling and hung upside down at a lovely 45-degree angle. Who would like to-“
“Just give it to the damn skeleton already, you know he’s got the money!” the human beside him snarled out. Papyrus didn’t know that humans could turn that shade of purple – he was learning new things everyday!
“Well, alright! Papyrus, would you like to place your bid, please?” Papyrus somewhat uncertainly offered the expected 15-hundred, but he wasn’t sure about the action. Would the human be okay? He hadn’t been planning on bidding; as a monster, he was much more suited to physical difficulties, and he could still use magic to assist in his cooking. But if the other insisted…
With a deep scowl, the human was strapped into a deceptively simple rig, whereupon the same person that had tied him together slowly rotated the contraption until the human was at a very awkward looking angle. Papyrus felt a bit bad, but the human had quite literally asked for it!
No more sabotages came, but no more were necessary. The other human was hissing and spitting, no longer biting back his vitriol. Specks of spit landed in his…cake, as he attempted to bake. Papyrus felt pity for this poor human – if he could not get over himself, he would have absolutely nothing – nothing to show, nothing to hold onto, nothing to be proud of.
…and at the moment, the human had absolutely no pride whatsoever. He was red in the face, puffy in the cheeks, angry in the eyes, and empty in the money pocket. Quite frankly, it was everything he asked for and deserved – and the helper he had to ask to lift him each time was a female human! Which, for some reason, this male human despised.
He had to ask her nicely, too, or she’d dump him entirely on his head. It took him quite a few tries to figure this out! Papyrus shook his head at the lack of decency, and exchanged a high-five with the girl as he passed. He was so hip and with the times!
Papyrus grinned and the man let out a new stream of curses as one of his pans caught fire. Undyne would approve!
Papyrus watched with anticipation as Judge-human – different than judge-monster, who was Sans and had an entirely different job than this human judge – took a bite of his cake. He let out a short protest – no, not a squawk! Not at all! – as she then fed a bite to the dog that had successfully pulled off the Puppy Eyes Maneuver, ™. Papyrus could never get that look to work on anyone other than his brother – it wasn’t fair!
“Well, chefs, I have to say this is one of my easiest choices,” the judge said as she pulled back. Both she and papyrus looked over at his competition – a sad, burned and crumbling cake that was falling apart as they watched. The dog had refused to eat it when offered – Papyrus supposed that the dog did clearly have good taste, only going after the finest bones and cuisine – his, of course.
“And with that, I am proud to say that you, chef Papyrus, are the winner of cutthroat kitchen!” She said, and the dog let out a happy yowl as Papyrus screeched with joy.
“YES! YES! SANS, I DID IT! I WON! I WON!” Papyrus jumped up and pulled the judge into a hug, and then the host. “I ACTUALLY WON AT COOKING! I ACTUALLY WON IN A HUMAN SHOW! I MEAN, OF COURSE I’D WIN – I’M CLEARLY THE COOLEST MONSTER HERE – BUT… I WON!!!” Papyrus began to dance, only to be interrupted as A.D. started to growl.
“You rotten little-“ clearly the other human did not like losing, as he was approaching Papyrus with murder clear in his eyes. Papyrus slowed his celebrating and sighed – there was nothing so trying to his patience as a human trying to murder him.
*tinkle tinkle tinkle* Everybody stopped, as a rain of yellow liquid splashed down on the approaching human. He roared and launched himself forward, only to slip in the doggy residue and land face first in his ‘cake’.
Security came in, and quickly removed the stinking human, leaving Papyrus to his victory. Well! That had certainly been new!
-fin-
I hope you enjoyed reading! I’ll be posting this to AO3 after I get some sleep - I stayed up until 9 in the morning with no sleep so far - and a sequel with a few of the bits I had to cut to reach the wordcount. Hopefully it’s not too choppy, and that you enjoyed reading! This was my first intentional humorous - or should I say, humerus, story, so I hope it goes over well!
Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful day!
 Update: Link to AO3 version here!
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