Chapter 1: Classic, Forced to Beg
The creature that was once known as Asgore sneered at the pitiful monster before him. He could barely see it over the swell of his chest, but it seemed to be a smaller version of his Royal Scientist. It didn’t have the pretty cracks he had left on that person. Perhaps he would inflict them. It all depended on how entertaining this skeleton could be.
He yawned hugely before saying, “So, Classic was it? I don’t quite see the point in keeping you around. If you to somehow prove your usefulness, that would be another matter, but you’re not going to do that, are you?”
Classic scowled back at him. He was a tall monster at 8’4”, but somehow, for all that height, he looked almost fragile. Perhaps it was the hulking 10’8” behemoth of a Boss Monster whose horns were scraping on the roof. But Classic, instead of the fear Asgore was used to seeing, was angry. Very angry. Asgore was just a convenient target.
“Hell no, you fucktard.”
Asgore sighed. “As I suspected. Well, since you are insisting on being so obstinate, I have no choice but to take you to the dungeons. I’ve never had the opportunity to take a skeleton apart. I wonder how long it will take you to dust. I truly hope it will take a few days. My last guest died his way out of our little play session before 24 hours was even up. So disappointing.”
Classic blanched. He wasn’t very good with blood and gore. His imagination was already running wild. It was a good thing he hadn’t eaten today.
“T-torture?! But I didn’t do anything!”
Asgore flopped his head to one side and sighed. “I don’t care. Make this interesting or I’m taking you down.”
Classic panicked. He didn’t want to die! Especially not by torture! But he’d never...he’d never...he’d never had to do something so stupid in all his life. Why did this bastard think it was okay to just torture people for fun? It was an outrage!
“Please,” Classic forced out from behind the anger, “Please don’t torture me.”
“Hmm…” Asgore looked up at the ceiling, “...not buying it. Try again.”
Classic swore just under his breath. This guy was insane! How had someone so...immature gotten to be King of an entire kingdom. Were they all like this? He felt sorry for the citizens.
“Please~ don’t torture me. I’ll be cooperative.”
Asgore shook his head. “Too late for that. You had your chance to be a productive member of society before. Now you’re going to the dungeon,” he said with glee.
“What do you want me to say? I don’t want to die! Please!!!”
Asgore looked at him with such disappointment. “If you’re already running out of things to say then you won’t be much fun. I can take apart one of my other skeleton citizens. They’ll be more fun. Guards, release him. Let him have a ten second head start. And if you ever see him again, you have permission to dust.”
Classic took off for the woods as fast as he possibly could, two sets of clanking armour following shortly after him.
Chapter 2: Sans (Sansgoriel), Painful Transformation
Prompt from dreamcreator01 on Tumblr:
HI! I love your prompts! I was looking at that bingo game and picked one for you: Painful Transformation and using Sans (I am thinking Gaster Blaster transformation?) With some Sansgoriel please as well? They are such a rare pair and I love them! Anyway good luck and have fun with this! Happy ending please if you are able to. :)
Warnings: Pain, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Loud grunts and whines drifted down the staircase to the waiting ears of a pair of waiting Boss Monsters. Toriel quickly set aside her knitting and stood up. Asgore wasn’t far behind. The gardening magazine lay forgotten on the table as the two pounded up the stairs to their shared bedroom. The door was closed. As Asgore’s hands frantically turning the handle found, it was locked too.
The sounds only got worse the more Asgore desperately tried to open the door. Cracks and pops and sickening slurps could be heard now. Someone was in extreme pain, and the only other person inside their house was Sans.
When Asgore finally got the door unlocked, it was to reveal a horrifying mish-mash of bone and marrow. Sans was curled up in the corner. His shirt was torn to shreds and all over the bedroom. His spine was arched in painful ways, both side to side and front to back. Spikes were beginning to grow out of some of the vertebrae. Strange bumps were moving underneath the back of his shorts. But it was his skull that looked the worst. There was a big crack nearly splitting it in two. One half was the normal round skull they were used to, albeit racked with pain. The other side was spiky and stretching ever further.
Toriel fell to her knees and took his head in her lap. Healing magic fell from her hands. Teardrops made temporary little holes in it as the fire spread. It soaked into the painful bones. Sans’ cries got less frequent and less pained.
Asgore joined his datemates on the floor. Despite the gore and the blood he wanted to be there for Sans. The way the small skeleton’s eye lights kept returning to him in their wild motions told him that the gesture was appreciated. So there he would stay, rubbing his partner’s leg comfortingly, until this strange transformation was finally complete.
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Chapter 3: Sans, Locked in a Cage
Warnings: Non-consensual Imprisonment
Sans caught himself on his hands and knees as the cage door slammed shut behind him. The wires of the cage caught on his shin, biting into the soft bone. His gloves saved his hands from a similar fate. He shifted his weight forward onto them and spun around so he could sit on the bottom edge of his hoodie. He wrapped his arms around his knees and huddled up. The biting cold of this Snowdin was chilling him to the bone.
He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten to this point. He’d been jumping universes just like he always did, desperately searching for a world on the Surface. His brother wanted to drive a car as the sun set. He deserved better than to be trapped Underground.
But unlike the stuffy silence he always found waiting for him in the basement lab, he’d been snatched and dragged up the stairs and into an absolutely frigid snowstorm. Whoever had him had lugged him for quite a ways before throwing him in here. They were outside. Actually, he was outside. In a cage. Suspended above the ground without even a towel to sit on. He couldn’t see anyone in the whiteout around him. Guess he’d just have to wait for the snowstorm to let up to figure out what the heck was going on. That, or, of course, freeze to death. He hoped his brother wouldn’t wait up on him to read his bedtime story.
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Chapter 4: Swapfell Sans, Be careful what you wish for
Razz plopped down into the chair. It was an old chair - the legs creaked underneath the sudden force. His face was deadpan. His arms were balanced on his knees and clasped in front of him. His knuckles were to his forehead. Twisted to one side, but still bent, one leg crossed his lap and rested its foot on the opposite knee. His breathing was exaggerated.
“um...are you still mad?” A tremulous voice asked. It was Slim, a tall, thin skeleton with a knee-length hoodie open at the front. He was holding a big pet carrier. It took both hands, and the front and sides were covered in a thick blanket.
Razz sighed. He started massaging his wrinkled forehead. “WHY WOULD I BE MAD? I WAS THE ONE WHO WANTED A WATCH CAT.”
Slim perked up a bit. That was true, he’d only been following Razz’s orders. He’d gone to the pet shelter in the next town over. The one here didn’t have any cats available to adopt. It had just had a big adoption event. They’d recommended that he go to this other shelter, and so he had. He’d gone into the cat room and had seen the contents of this carrier in one of the cages. He’d fallen instantly in love. Now Razz would get to see the cuteness, too!
Razz had hardly taken a breath in all the time Slim had been thinking. He said exasperatedly, “ONE CAT I CAN HANDLE. A KITTEN, EVEN. BUT A LITTER OF FIVE?”
Slim held out the carrier placatingly. “do you want to meet them? they’re super soft and friendly.”
Razz stood up fluidly and wiped an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder. “I SHALL MEET THEM LATER. FOR NOW, IT SEEMS I MUST KITTEN-PROOF THE HOUSE.”
A huge smile split Slim’s skull as he watched his brother walk around the house. He leaned down to whisper into the carrier, “i knew he’d like you. just wait until he actually gets to hold you. he’ll be hooked.”
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Chapter 5: Cherry, Wound that won't heal
Warnings: graphic descriptions, soul injuries
Cherry closed the door behind him in his brother’s face and locked it. He knew it was rude, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He had a hard time caring at all, now. That worried him, but it was why he was hiding like this. He didn’t want Sugar to worry about him. And this was something that would be a huge, huge worry.
He stripped off his shirt to reveal a scarred ribcage. Wounds might heal quickly on him due to his disorder, but they often left scars behind. But it wasn’t these scars that were the problem. No, the problem was with his soul.
Cherry cupped his soul and pulled it carefully out from inside his ribs. It looked small in his hands, but it always had looked small in his hands. It looked even smaller with the bandages it had on. The soaked bandages. He unwrapped them to reveal the hole. The hole was centered in his left bell and went almost all the way through to the other side. There wasn’t a whole lot of soul around the edges of it. Just enough for it to leak constantly. Hence the bandages.
You would think that the hole would have healed by now. It had been six months. It should have healed in less than half that time, but no. Instead, it was getting bigger. Slowly, steadily, it was eating up more of his personality, more of his emotions, more of his soul.
Cherry sighed. It was getting to the point where he should be taking it in to see a doctor, a healer, someone. But part of him was terrified that they’d try to hold him there, poking and prodding at his soul. That they’d want to cut another piece off, just to see what would happen. That they’d want to try out a few different drugs on him, just in case. In short, that they’d want to experiment on him. Again. He couldn’t handle that.
So Cherry would keep his soul hidden, safely tucked inside his ribs and wrapped in an ever-renewed set of bandages, just out of fear that he’d be a lab rat again. Hopefully it would heal before he ran out of soul to lose. Hopefully.
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Chapter 6: Frisk (Chara and Asriel), Carved Mark
Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Bad language
Frisk set the stack of bathing suits on the little bench. The room wasn’t big enough for a bigger bench, but it didn’t need to be. All you needed was enough room to change. That was the purpose of changing rooms, after all. To change. They were trying out suits because of an upcoming trip. They would be going to check on the monsters who had moved to a sleepy town beside the ocean. When they’d gone to pack, Frisk had discovered that their bathing suit no longer fit. So today was a shopping day!
The first bathing suit they picked up was a cute one. It was cut out of an orange fabric with light blue stripes and different sea creatures scattered throughout. They tried it on. It fit perfectly, covering all the bits society deemed inappropriate while still leaving as much skin as possible open.
Frisk decided to show their family this one, since it fit so nice. They opened the door and waved.
“Oh, nice one, Frisk! I love the colors!” Asriel was cheerful as always. He still had moments where he could be dark, sad, or scary, but for the most part he was happy.
“Gack,” Chara said. That was Chara for you.
Frisk signed quickly, trying to appease their sibling and former head-mate. Chara could be persnickety. -I have more. I can try on another one if you don’t like it.-
“Please do. That one makes you look like a little kid,” Chara said bluntly.
Asriel sighed as Frisk shrugged and turned around. Then, suddenly, his attention was very focused indeed. He was focused on the six deep scars crisscrossing Frisk’s back. How had he never seen these before? They weren’t fresh. Something that big would surely have been noticed by now. But Frisk did like to wear concealing clothing. Maybe he should say something.
“Um, Frisk?” He said, voice wavering. His friend turned around and tilted their head at him. He gulped. Someone else finished his question, although not in the way he would have done.
“Who the hell put those marks on your back?” Chara demanded.
Frisk tried to look over their shoulder, failed, sighed, and turned around. Then they signed, -it was a long time ago. does it really matter?-
“Yes it bloody well matters!” Chara snarled. “I need to know who to beat up. Was it those parent-creatures of yours? I knew they did more than just yell at you. You were too damn scared of them for it just to have been verbal abuse. You didn’t even want them to touch you. Why I-”
“Chara! Frisk wants to say something!” Asriel interrupted the rant.
Frisk nodded to him thankfully. Once they had Chara’s full attention they signed, -It was the dad-thing, but really, you don’t have to do anything. They’re already in jail. Breaking in just so you can beat them up with only get you in trouble. And please watch your language!-
Chara pouted. “Fine, but I’m telling Mom and the comedian.”
-Only if I get to keep this suit. It feels comfy.- Frisk signed triumphantly.
Chara rolled their eyes. “Fine.”
Chapter 7: Classic Fontcest, Used in a Ritual
Warnings: Torture, Implied/Referenced Major Character Death, Burning
note: You can imagine them getting rescued if you want.
Red-orange firelight lit the twisting stalks of barren trees and bushes. The ground was covered in shadows and mud. No green things grew in this, the darkest of winter. The land lay bleak and fallow. In time, it would grow warm and the green would return. But the locals didn’t know that
A casual toss of the hand had the flames turning truly red and flaring up twice as high. The small crowd of people applauded. There were less than a dozen, all of them wearing simple clothing heavily stained with mud. They were watching the ceremony with wide eyes. To them, this was the greatest entertainment they would have all year. This was not the case for the ceremony’s participants. The priests looked like the kind who would make their own entertainment, possibly using other people. The other two…
Papyrus sobbed as the two big, burly priests untied his brother and lover, Sans, and started leading him to the fire. He knew they wouldn’t understand him. There was nothing he could do to make them stop. They’d already tried everything they could think of, and none of it had worked. Sans’ only hope was that they wouldn’t make him watch.
A pointless hope, as it turned out. The minute he had closed his eyes and turned his head away from the sight of his incredible brother being forced to walk into the fire, the very minute, an unfamiliar hand pried his eye sockets open and forced his head to turn towards the fire. Tears started to roll out of his sockets. Sans was hopping from foot to foot on the hot coals. Papyrus could smell his bones burning. He struggled in his bindings.
The head priest, up to this point, had been watching the proceedings with cold interest. Now he turned his head to Papyrus. He saw the tears. A terrible, gleeful grin spread across his face. He barked out a command in their foreign tongue.
The priest next to Papyrus tapped him to get his attention. Then he pointed to Papyrus, pointed to Sans, and made that little gesture that universally meant to switch. Papyrus couldn’t nod fast enough. He felt his bonds being untied. Two strong hands grabbed each of his arms and lifted him off his shaky legs that had fallen asleep from kneeling so long. They dragged him closer to the fire. Then Sans was pushed into his arms. The two clung to one another, hugging and kissing each other with relief.
Then the priests yanked them apart. Sans cried out in horror as Papyrus was forced into the live fire. Papyrus closed his ears to the pleading, the demanding, the crying. It only hurt worse. But at least Sans would be alive to grieve him.
Chapter 8: Fellcest, Survivor's guilt
Warnings: Mentions of starvation
Rain poured down the window lit slightly blue by the lava lamp sitting in the bookshelves that made the other two sides of this little window seat. The shelves were filled with knicknacks, books, and a tissue box. The wood of the shelves and the window treatments was painted white. The seat itself was orange with white dots in neat little rows. The pillows were comfy. One had an orange fox on it. The other two were white with blue and orange dots.
Sitting curled up in the window were two intelligent creatures. One was a white cat. The cat was missing one eye, had half of it’s right ear missing, and scars all over its face and body. It did not look like a cat that would put up with petting, but it was. It’s name was Doomfanger.
The other creature, who was petting Doomfanger, was a short, stocky skeleton. He too was covered with scars, although most of them centered around his arms and tail. The tail was thick but flexible. It came out of a hole in a pair of black and yellow shorts. A sleeveless red sweater was above that. Normally there would be a black leather jacket, too, but it was currently being washed. A spiked collar with a big buckle encircled the skeleton’s neck. Yellow kicks and white socks completed the look. The skeleton had one sharp, gold tooth. His name was Red.
Rain rolled down the middle, but at the same time, tears ran down Red’s face. He was staring out the window, brooding. Another skeleton entered the room. He came up to Red and put one gloved hand on his shoulder.
“Red,” Edge, the other skeleton, said, “What’s wrong?”
Red shook his head, dislodging tears all over the place. A few hit Doomfanger, who swore in cat and left. Red sighed and turned to Edge. He answered, “I’m just...we don’t deserve to be here.”
Edge gave him a funny look. “We bought the house fair and square,” He said dryly.
“No, that’s not what I…” Red trailed off, searching for the words to explain what he was feeling, “The Surface. We don’t deserve to be here on the surface. Not when everyone else is still trapped down there, slowly starving to death. We should be with them.”
Edge sat down next to Red and pulled him into his lap. “Red, I know you don’t want to starve. I don’t want to starve. And you didn’t realize that using your machine was a one way trip until after we arrived here. We intended to bring food back to them. So stop thinking that we deserve to die with them and turn to look at the future. We have one. That’s all that matters.”
Red stammered, “B-b-but-”
Edge put one hand to Red’s mouth and shushed him. “No buts. We are here. We are safe. We survived. Stop worrying about it, and that’s an order.”
Red sighed, “Okay, Boss. I’ll try.”
Edge grinned and said, “Good. Now, tell me about your day at work. Did they have you shelving books again?...”
Chapter 9: Red, Lost a Bet
Warnings: Unwilling Cross-dressing
“stupid red, you just had to make a bet with stretch, oh yeah,” Red mumbled to himself as he slipped off his black leather jacket with it’s comfortable fluffy hood. He was standing alone in his mess of a bedroom. He made it even more of a mess when he flung his hoodie into the corner.
“you shoulda known that it would turn out like that,” he grumbled as he slipped off his sneakers and kicked them into a different corner. There they huddled with his only other pair of shoes. Black combat boots with yellow laces were still new to his life. He’d never had to deal with slush in the Underground. Slush was evil.
“stretch never makes a bet he can’t win. shoulda known better,” Red swore under his breath when his arm got stuck in the sleeve of his red sweater. He ended up having to pop the arm out of his socket to get the bloody thing off. He popped it back in, mentally promising himself to get a new sweater as soon as possible. All this healthy Surface food was making him put on weight.
“now you have to wear this stupid white dress that shows altogether too much bone,” he dumped the costume out of it’s little baggy and held it up. Yeah, it would fit him, and yeah, it would be embarrassing.
“and you have to wear it in public all. day. long. stupid, red, stupid,” Red called himself out as he slipped on the dress. At least this dress didn’t have any possibility of catching on his arms. He didn’t know what this style was called. It didn’t have any sleeves and it tied behind his neck. The knot felt uncomfortable. He was going to be so happy when this was done.
He stepped out of his shorts and drudged over to his cracked mirror. He didn’t look awful, but he didn’t look like himself, either. The white-on-white effect didn’t do anything to make him look less out of place. At least he only had to do it for one day. Then he could go back to normal.
Chapter 10: Kedgeup, Body Image Issues
Warnings: Eating Disorders, graphic descriptions
The minute Sans could close the bedroom door without making Edge suspicious, he did so. Then he locked it. He didn't want to be interrupted while he did this. He really didn't want Edge to come in.
Sans slipped out of his hoodie and pulled his tank top over his head. Then he walked over to the mirror and sat down cross-legged. He brought his magic up to be visible. The magic was faint, almost grey in color. It was also tight, sticking right to the bones, even the spine. It should be dark blue and fleshed out like a torso.
The skeleton punched at the skin of his body and tutted. “Too fat,” he muttered, “Still too fat. Edge is never going to want to stay with someone so fat.”
“I'm sorry? I get to decide who I will and will not date, and body mass has nothing to do with that.”
Sans nearly fell over from the speed at which he turned. Familiar clawed gloves helped him up.
Edge pulled Sans up into a kiss. Sans pushed back and tried to glare at him. It wasn't a very good glare. He'd never thought he needed to practice.
“Edge. I locked the door! How'd you get in?” Sam's demanded indignantly.
“I picked it,” Edge said smugly,”I wanted to surprise you with some chocolates I got you. I noticed you haven't been eating as much lately and thought they might help you find your appetite again. Can you at least try one for me?”
Sans eyed the candy doubtfully. “I really shouldn't…”
“You really should. They're tasty, I tried them in the store. This one has sun-roasted tomatoes in it. Please?”
Sans sighed. He didn’t like to disappoint Edge when he was pleading like that. Edge hated to say ‘please’, just hated it. He’d say ‘thank you’ without a problem, and he’d ask things nicely. It was just that he didn’t use the word ‘please’ to do that.
“Okay,” he said reluctantly.
Edge handed him the chocolate. Sans swallowed reflexively before popping the chocolate into his mouth. He chewed it. While he was enjoying the taste of tomatoes and chocolate, Edge was eyeing his summoned magic. He didn’t look happy about it. He looked worried.
“Sans,” Edge said tentatively, “I’m...worried about your weight.”
Sans swallowed and looked down sadly. “I knew it. I’m too fat, right? I’ve been trying to get my weight down.”
Edge shook his head and corrected Sans.
“You are not too fat. Quite the opposite, in fact. I shouldn’t be able to grip your spine when your magic is summoned, and your magic is almost grey. You need to put more food in your system. Your body can’t survive like this. I love you, I want you around for a long time. Can you please, please try to eat a little bit more? It doesn’t have to be a lot.”
Sans flinched. He still thought that he was too fat. Why would Edge be worried about him being too thin? But he had used the word please. Sans sighed. If Edge really wanted him to eat more at mealtimes, he would have to try.
“Okay. I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.”
Edge pulled him into another hug and planted a kiss on top of his head. “Thank you. That’s all I ask. Now, are you hungry enough to have some more of these chocolates?”
Chapter 11: Papyrus, Magical Curse
Warnings: Unrequited love, rejection, Flowey being an ass
Papyrus staggered back, glaws rubbing at his eye sockets. They came away covered in a thick and glowing yellow stain. He sneezed violently several times. Then he looked injuredly at the other monster in the forest clearing.
“WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, FLOWEY? THIS STUFF FEELS STICKY AND WEIRD.”
The flower chuckled evilly. “I don’t care. I wanted to see what it’d do and you’re a fun target.”
Papyrus gave him a look of disapproval. He had many disapproving looks. This one was the one for when he was also confused about why someone had done the thing he thought was bad. He had to use that look a lot more when he was young.
“Oh, please. You’re not even going to remember it when I’m done. Now, we’re going on a trip.”
Vines shot out of the ground underneath Papyrus and twined with his legs, trapping him. Then more vines came out and tied his arms to his sides. Papyrus struggled with them. Every time he tried to move a thorn grew on one of the vines and cut into him.
“STOP, FLOWEY. I LIKE TYING PEOPLE UP, BUT THIS HURTS!...WHY DID I SAY THAT?”
Flowey cackled, “It’s working~ The truth spell stuck to the pollen, it seems. Now you’re cursed to say all of the truth. This ought to be fun~”
With that, Flowey popped back under the snow. Papyrus yelped when the vines dragged him under with him. He could feel the dirt getting in all his wounds. He hoped the cuts wouldn’t get infected. Bone infections were hard to heal.
When Papyrus popped back out of the dirt he was immediately blasted with the heat of Hotland.
“FLOWEY, PLEASE DON’T DO THAT AGAIN. I’M WORRIED THAT THE DIRT WILL GIVE ME AN INFECTION.”
Flowey ignored him, looking around and searching for something. Finally, he found it. He started dragging Papyrus along the ground, bumping his head on every stone and uneven path of ground. Papyrus managed to get a look at where they were going and blanched. It was the MTT Resort.
“NO, FLOWEY, PLEASE! I DON’T WANT TO GO IN THERE AND TALK TO HIM AND EMBARRASS MYSELF! I COULDN’T HANDLE IT IF HE SAID NO. PLEASE!”
“Too bad,” Flowey said, “I want to see it happen.”
Flowey disappeared into the ground again, but this time he didn’t bring Papyrus with him. A few minutes went by. Several guests of the hotel passed him with various emotions on their face. Some were amused. Some were disgusted. Others were disapproving, confused, and jaded. All of them made Papyrus squirm, and with every squirm came another thorn. He was probably covered in marrow at this point. He wondered why no one had stopped to help him.
Suddenly and without warning Papyrus got yanked back underground. More dirt got shoved into his open wounds. Luckily this was a short trip. He was brought back up with a bit of a whimper. He’d gotten dirt in his eye sockets.
The vines had already unwrapped and left him wobbling before Papyrus had gotten his bearings. He looked around and found he was in a fairly plain room - white walls, grey floors, drop ceiling. There were mirrors on the wall above several counters. There were chairs and stools everywhere. On the countertops were makeup, hairbrushes, and styling gel. The rest of the room was taken up with clothes racks and shoes.
He was just beginning to wonder about what went on in a room like this when the door opened. Papyrus spun around. Mettaton, the rectangular star of his dreams, was rolling in.
“Oh. Hello darling. Are you one of the actors for the documentary?”
Papyrus swallowed. “NO, I’M NOT AN ACTOR AT ALL. I’M A HUGE FAN, THOUGH. MORE THAN A FAN. I KIND OF HAVE A HUGE CRUSH ON YOU AND WOULD LIKE TO DATE YOU SOMEDAY?”
Mettaton’s screen turned black and he reached over with one of his extendable arms and slapped Papyrus. “Why would I want to date someone so rude? You broke into my dressing room. That is exactly the behaviour of a stalker. Do you understand that? All I want is for you to leave and never show up in my life again. Get out.”
Papyrus sagged. He knew this was going to happen. His crush rejected him and hated him. His soul strained to handle the emotions.
“I UNDERSTAND. I KNEW THIS WASN’T GOING TO WORK, BUT IT WASN’T MY IDEA. STILL, I’LL LEAVE. I’M SORRY FOR INTERRUPTING YOUR DAY.”
Mettaton continued to glare at Papyrus as he slinked out of the dressing room. Waiting for him outside was Flowey. He studied Papyrus’ expression and his face morphed into an evil grin. “The look on your face...he rejected you, didn’t he? I bet your soul’s hurting really bad right now. I wonder how Sans will react to finding out about what you’ve done?”
With that soul-crushing question, Flowey disappeared and left Papyrus alone in an unfamiliar place with a soul throbbing with fresh pain.
Chapter 12: Papyrus (HoneyEdgeBlossum), Verbal Abuse
Warnings: Verbal Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Victim Blaming
Two monsters were cuddling on the worn couch in the light of the TV. The taller monster had his arm around the shoulders of the other. The shorter monster was leaning his head against the other’s chest. Both of them were barefooted.
Stretch sighed contentedly. This was nice. Hanging out with his two boyfriends, no shouting, no anger, no worries. Just quiet and-
“PAPYRUS! WAKE UP, WEAKLING! I WANT SOME OF THE POMEGRANATE GINGER SORBET. GET IT FOR ME RIGHT NOW, IF YOU CAN EVEN MANAGE THAT. HALF A CUP ONLY. AND DON’T FORGET THE SPOON!”
Stretch sighed again, this time without the contentment. his voice was wrought with emotion when he said, “edge. you have to stop treating papyrus like that.”
“WHY? HE’S SO WEAK HE COULDN’T EVEN MAKE IT INTO THE GUARD. I’M JUST DOING HIM A FAVOR BY STRENGTHENING HIM UP TO FACE THE WORLD. HE NEEDS SOMEONE TO GIVE HIM DIRECTION. IT MIGHT AS WELL BE ME.”
Stretch shook his head. “it’s not going to work. all it’s going to do is kill his self-esteem. you-”
“UM,” Papyrus cut through theirs with his quietest tone of voice, “I HAVE THAT SORBET YOU WANTED. I’M AFRAID THERE WASN’T ENOUGH LEFT FOR A FULL HALF CUP.”
Edge scoffed. He disparaged, “OF COURSE THEIR WASN’T. SOMEONE MUST HAVE BEEN SNEAKING SERVINGS, BECAUSE I DISTINCTLY REMEMBER THERE BEING AT LEAST TWO CUPS WORTH YESTERDAY NIGHT.”
Stretch gulped guiltily. “sorry, edge. i sorta got hungry in the middle of the night, and it’s tasty.”
“HMMPH. WELL THEN, I SUPPOSE I’LL HAVE TO MAKE MORE. WEAKLING, GO TO THE STORE AND BUY THE INGREDIENTS. THE RIGHT ONES THIS TIME. STARS, SOMETIMES YOU CAN BE SO SLOW-”
Stretch butted in, “thanks, pap. and go ahead and get yourself a box of your favorite oatmeal, kay? you deserve it.”
Papyrus hurried out before his boyfriends had a chance to take that back.
Chapter 13: Sugar (Fell Papyrus) with UT Pap, Sensory Overload
Warnings: Sensory overload
Sugar (& Fell) is an Underfell Papyrus belonging to thefandomenthusiast on Tumblr.
“...AND THAT’S WHY I DON’T LIKE PURPLE GRAPES. OH! I FORGOT TO TELL YOU ABOUT THE RED GRAPE DILEMMA. THE FIRST TIME SANS GOT ME RED GRAPES…”
Sugar listened to the other Papyrus, who went by Rus, with the exhausted endurance of a marathon runner. He’d missed his morning dose of sugar, and on top of that Fell had come out earlier and beat his hands bloody against a wall. Rus had seen his hands and decided to fix them. What Sugar didn’t understand was why he had to talk- no, it was too loud to call it talking. Shouting would be a better word- why he had to shout at him the whole time he was healing him.
And that shouting wasn’t the worst of it. Sugar was hyper-aware of the high-pitched buzzing of the computers in their dorm room. The mini fridge, too, had its own slightly lower pitched buzz. They were just close enough together that they created a warble he could not stand.
All these together were driving him nuts, so when Rus’ phone alarm went off, telling him to go to class, Sugar slapped his hands over his ears and crouched down into a ball. There was too much noise. Too loud! He couldn’t handle this much noise. He rocked back and forth, whimpering every so often. It hurt when he did. The noise was overwhelming.
Rus gave him a sad look before he hurried out of the dorm room. That got rid of two of the noises. No more alarm. No more shouting.
Slowly, rocking back and forth to try and stim his way out of it, Sugar calmed down enough to uncover his ears. The other two noises and their warble were less overwhelming. He crawled his way over to the first computer and pressed the power button. It switched off a minute later, taking with it the fan noise and some of the buzzing. Then he crawled over to the other one and did the same thing.
Finally, with almost all of the sensory inputs gone, Sugar flopped down on the ground and just. Sank. Into himself. And breathed. He had an hour before Rus would be back from his class. That was just enough time to recover in.
Chapter 14: Fellcest, Manhandling
Warnings: School shooter, Gun Violence, Injury
The bullet came out of nowhere. One minute Edge was striding up to Red from across the campus, the next he was on the ground and blood was leaking from two holes in his skull. Cracks radiated out from them. Bits of bone flaked off.
“damn,” Red swore, dropping down to his knees and hauling Edge's long skull into his lap. A few spots of the little bit of healing magic he knew told him that Edge was going to be fine once he got him to a Toriel. The operative part in that sentence was, ‘got him to’.
“seriously, boss. you couldn't have gotten shot in a worse section of campus,” Red grumbled to himself. They were in the center of the largest green space on campus.
He stood up, brushed off his knees as he dodged another bullet, and sent a less-than-friendly blaster back along the trajectory to go deal with the shooter. Then Red leaned over, positioned Edge carefully, and threw him over his shoulder in what the humans called a “fireman’s carry”.
“shit. you've gotten heavier since the last time i had to do this with you. you're really picking up the pounds, aren't you? you must be a whole, oh, got to be at least twenty pounds now. it's a good thing you're a skeleton, huh?”
Red started walking back the way they had come. People were just now starting to scream, which probably meant someone else was shot.
Red picked up his heels in a quick, easy trot. If those idiot's who are screaming their heads off had just turned tail and run, they'd be a whole lot safer and Red would be a much easier target. But since they hadn't, he could safely continue his dead run to the nearest enclosed building. Once inside he could teleport the fuck out of the and crash at his Tori's.
Chapter 15: Razz & Papyrus, Trapped Under Rubble
Warnings: Implied/referenced bomb, Implied/referenced explosions
Black smoke floated through the dark room. Pieces of glass on the floor reflected what little light came from the only remaining fluorescent bulb. Also on the floor were chunks of concrete and ductwork.
Underneath one large chunk of concrete a monster was stirring. Razz blinked at the broken ceiling. There was a corner right above him where he could see all the way past the two floors above him to the open sky. A cloud drifted by in slow motion. Razz watched it like it was the most important thing in the world. He noticed the swirling black smoke. Where was the fire it was coming from? Fires were dangerous things. They could very quickly spiral out of control. Someone needed to alert the guard.
“RAZZ? RAZZ, ARE YOU HERE?” A familiar voice called out. Razz turned towards the voice and saw Papyrus.
He gathered some breath to call out but ended up launching into a huge coughing fit instead. The sound must have drawn his friend anyway. Papyrus came almost straight to him, but sped up about 2/3 of the way there. He must have spotted him.
“RAZZ! ARE YOU OKAY? I HEARD THE EXPLOSION, BUT IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO GET PAST THE EMERGENCY TECHS,” Papyrus babbled.
Razz responded, far quieter than he usually spoke, “You shouldn’t have come. The ceiling looks like it might collapse at any moment. Go back behind the safety line. I don’t want to explain to your brother that you got hurt because of me.”
“NONSENSE! I WAS A ROYAL GUARD IN TRAINING! I CAN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF. NOW, PLEASE STAY STILL AS I LIFT THIS CHUNK OF CONCRETE OFF OF YOU.”
Razz stayed silent as Papyrus slipped his fingers underneath the concrete rubble that was holding him down. Grunts, huffs, and groans filled the air as Papyrus tried his hardest to lift it. It didn’t work. In less than five minutes Papyrus was sitting with his back to the concrete, panting hard and flexing his fingers to get some feeling back. Razz sighed. He’d known Papyrus wasn’t capable of lifting the heavy rubble. But Papyrus was stubborn, and he wouldn’t have listened if Razz had told him.
“I’M SO SORRY RAZZ. THE GREAT PAPYRUS SHOULD BE CAPABLE OF LIFTING ANYTHING HE SETS HIS MIND TO, BUT-”
“-That’s okay, Papyrus,” Razz interrupted him, “This is several layers of reinforced concrete. I don’t think even their Majesties would be able to lift this. Thank you for trying, though.”
Papyrus nodded glumly.
“YOU’RE WELCOME, RAZZ. SINCE I’M HERE ALREADY, DO YOU MIND IF I STAY WITH YOU UNTIL THE RESCUE TEAM COMES?”
Razz huffed, but nodded. “You can stay...do you still happen to have that audiobook on your phone?”
Papyrus didn’t answer him, but he did pull out his phone and start fiddling with it. Razz smiled. He liked listening to audiobooks with his friend. If he had to be trapped underneath a ton of rubble, at least he could be entertained.
Chapter 16: Stretch vs Slim, I Know You're in There Somewhere Fight
Warnings: Violence, Attack Magic, Medicine
Stretch dodged another blast. He tripped over a bone at the end of his stride and ended up sprawled on his side in the cold wet snow. He rocked himself until he was sitting upright. It only took a few seconds. Then he scrambled back from the sharpened bone attacks that sprouted between his legs.
He swore, “Shit. Slim, you have to stop this. You’re gonna dust me!”
Slim, standing calmly a few feet away with his hands in his pockets and a cigarette between his teeth, chuckled. “Good.”
Stretch rolled out of the way of another blast.
“Seriously, Slim, what the fuck has gotten into you? You’ve been doing great on the new LV medicine. Why are you trying to kill me?”
Slim snarled, “Didn’t take it. Razz stole the bottle from me. Good riddance.”
“Ugh,” Stretch groaned, “Figures. Slim, you know that medicine is what’s kept you from blowing up. You’ve got to fight this.”
Slim shook his head like a dog. Cigarette ash flew all over the clearing. “Why the hell would I? That medicine made me sick to my stomach. I had days where I couldn’t eat anything. Now, for the first time in weeks, I don’t want to hurl. I wonder how much better I’ll feel with another chunk of EXP?”
“Don’t think like that. You’re on the Surface. You don’t want to mess that up, not for anything.”
A barrage of attacks forced Stretch to duck and dodge. Soon he was panting for breath. His tongue hung just out of his mouth, the yellow-orange magic leaking onto the snow and staining it.
“Come on, Slim, I know you’re in there somewhere. Fight past the LV and talk to me.”
The other skeleton sneered at him. Then a strange expression came over his face. His eyes bugged out in that peculiar Papyrus fashion. His mouth dropped open, revealing his dark amber tongue. Then his eyes went dark, his tongue popped out of existence, and he tipped over forwards, landing on his face in the churned-up snow.
Behind him, Blue was standing with a blow-gun. He lowered it to his side and sighed. “Thank goodness the tranquilizer dart worked. Razz called me and said he’d taken Slim’s medications to the pharmacy. Apparently there was a recall? He’s rushing back with the new meds now.”
Stretch slid flat to the ground, still panting. “That’s good, bro. Can’t wait for him to get here. Now excuse me while I take a nap.”
Chapter 17: Sans & Papyrus, Starvation
Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape, Starvation, Self-starvation, Angst w/o a Happy Ending
Papyrus wearily slipped out of his boots and set them neatly by the door. Then he turned, looked up at the doors on the next level, and deflated even more. Sans’ door was still closed. He had no doubt of what he would find sitting, untouched, at the top of the stairs. That didn’t mean he was going to change his ritual. It was practically tradition for him, now.
The first thing he did was plod over to the kitchen. There he opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle. It was a pink bottle with pictures of strawberries on the side. Papyrus shook it to mix up the contents. Then he closed the fridge and turned towards the door to the kitchen. Papyrus’ steps dragged on the carpet in the living room. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing what waited for him at the top of the stairs. Every step felt like it dragged his soul lower. But he pushed on. Soon he was on the second floor. He sucked in a breath and forced himself to look over at his brother’s room.
The bottle was still there. This one was a yellow bottle with mangoes on the sides. Papyrus bent down to grab it with one shaky had. Then he set the new bottle in its place.
He called out through the locked door, “SANS. I...NOTICED YOU HAVEN’T DRUNK THE BOTTLE FROM THIS MORNING. I’D SAY IT WAS FINE, BUT IT’S NOT. YOU HAVEN’T EATEN IN OVER A WEEK. CAN YOU DRINK THIS ONE FOR ME? IT’S STRAWBERRY FLAVORED, YOUR FAVORITE. PLEASE?”
No voice called out in response. Papyrus sighed. “PLEASE, SANS. I KNOW YOUR SOUL IS HURTING. THEY SHOULDN’T HAVE DONE WHAT THEY DID TO YOU. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU SHOULD GIVE UP!”
“go away, paps,” Sans’ voice was barely audible through the door.
Papyrus perked up just a little. Sans hadn’t spoken to him for days. He’d been worried his brother might have already...gone “on vacation”. But Sans had spoken.
“ONLY IF YOU PROMISE TO DRINK THE SMOOTHIE FOR ME! I…” His voice dropped down to a scared whisper, “...I DON’T WANT TO LOSE MY ONLY BROTHER.”
Silence filled the space between them. Then Sans sighed. The lock turned, then the handle. The door slowly opened to reveal Sans. He was almost grey rather than white. He was still wearing the same outfit as he had been that night. The shirt was torn in half and stained with different colors of magic. His shorts were stained, too.
Sans reached out and took the new bottled smoothie. His wrists were bruised. Papyrus had to hold himself back from asking if he could heal them. Just getting him to eat was hard enough.
“thanks, bro. i’ll...thanks.”
With that, Sans disappeared back into the room, and Papyrus was left with the gnawing silence and wriggling worry once more.
Chapter 18: Sugar (Fell Papyrus) with Brakes (Different Fell Papyrus), Tears of Fear
Sugar fidgeted in the uncomfortable chair. It was supposed to be a comfortable one. It had padding like a sofa and smooth leather upholstery. But any chair would be uncomfortable here.
The busy sounds of the hospital ward filtered in through the door to the waiting room. The sharp notes of metal on metal pierced through the din and stabbed at Sugar’s mind. Every time he heard one he shuddered. What if that was a scalpel? What if someone was cutting his partner? Edge was helpless right now. It wouldn’t take much Intent to dust him, not with his injuries. That’s what it had to be, right? Someone was hurting Edge, and Sugar was helpless to-
“Sugar?” A bright human voice stopped his mind flat. He looked around frantically, tears of fear streaming down his skull. The voice said, “Over here, sir.”
Sugar was able to vaguely focus on the human nurse. He really should be wearing his glasses, but he’d lost track of them in the accident, and he didn’t have Brakes to help him find them again. Stars, he shouldn’t have thought it like that. That made it sound like he’d never see Brakes again. What if he never saw Brakes again? What if-
A hand patted his right hand gently. He followed the arm up to the human nurse’s face. They looked...sympathetic? “You’re Sugar, right? With Brakes? He’s in a room now, you can come visit.”
Sugar sprang to his feet, almost knocking the poor nurse off their feet. They turned their back and led him through the big double doors and into the hospital ward. It was just as noisy and overwhelming as he thought it would be. Sugar discretely started to stim with the hem of his shirt. He had to get through this.
Luckily they weren’t in the hallway for long before the nurse led him into a room. They gave him a stern warning and left the room, closing the door behind them. Only then did Sugar rush over to the bed and wrap himself around Brakes’ hand.
Tears blubbered out of him when Brakes didn’t respond. The nurse had said he wouldn’t, but Sugar had held out a bit of hope. Now it was dashed. Brakes was unconscious. Bandages covered his head and body. Blood was seeping through in a couple of places. The fear that his partner would never wake up was back and stronger than ever before. He wouldn’t be able to tear himself away until he was sure Brakes would be okay.
Chapter 19: Fell Frisk & Fell bros, Fall Through Ice
The light of the sun beamed down on a snow- covered park. Almost everywhere you looked, there was white. Almost everywhere.
The frozen pond was the center of a wide array of colors. Black, red, yellow, green, and orange all made their appearances. Most of them were in stripes. Two kids and a flower skated circles around the specially clothed surface. Only on a bench a few feet away from the pond we're there solid colors. On the bench were two adults with ivory heads, sharp teeth, and boney fingers.
Red and Edge were enjoying the nice weather while watching over their charges for today. Frisk was pulling the best tricks off the three on the ice. Monster Kid was barely managing to keep from falling over. Flowey wasn't much better. It was hard to move gracefully when you were stuck in a boot.
Without even the warning of a tiny creak, the ice underneath Frisk’s skates broke. A splash followed. Frisk slipped under the ice before they could make a sound. It was Monster Kid who gave the first scream.
Edge jumped up his feet and began stripping off his extra layers. It was clear he was going to jump into the ice- cold water after Frisk. Red held him back.
“go get the towels from the car, boss. and the blankets. i'll get the kid.”
Edge grabbe him a disapproving look. “YOU CAN'T EVEN SWIM, RED. HOW DO YOU PLAN TO SAVE THEM?”
Red grinned. “i'll just use my magic, boss.”
“OF COURSE,” Edge groaned. He turns towards the car. Then he slaps Redon the shoulder. “TAKE CARE OF IT, AND THEM.”
With that, Edge raced off towards the car. Red shuffles towards the pond. His eyes were closed and his hand was outstretched. Then his fist closed. His arm slowly lifted. The top of Frisk’s head poked out of the water.
By the time Frisk was completely out of the water, Edge had returned with a heaping stencil of blankets and towels. He set them on the bench. Then he pulled out two of the fluffier towels and raced over to the shivering human. He threw the first towel around their head. Then he wrapped the second one around them and took them into his arms.
Red released them to his brother, then he knelt down and began untying Frisk's skates. Once they were off, he ran back to the bench and started getting blankets and towels over to the scene.
One very soggy ride later, Frisk was at home, covered in blankets, and parked in front of the tv. Every few minutes one or the other of the skeleton brothers would bring them warm things to drink or eat, another blanket, or anything else they thought might help their human to feel better.
Chapter 20: MapleBlossom, Ambulance Ride
Warnings: Implied death of minor characters, injuries, broken bones
When the paramedics arrived at the scene, it was a mess. The cars were nearly fused from the high-speed, head-on collision. One car was much more crumpled than the other. It was a mid-size SUV that was crushed all the way back to the middle row. The front seats were completely obliterated. Some dark-red blood was seeping through the cracks. There was too much of it to belong to a living person. There was too much for even three living persons.
The paramedics turned their attention to the other car. It was much more intact. The driver and passenger were easily visible. You could see their breath fogging up against the ice-cold glass. They didn’t seem to be conscious anymore. There also wasn’t any visible blood.
The doors to this car opened up very easily. They hadn’t been crushed at all thanks to the crumple zone at the front of the car. It did what it was designed to do - save the people in the car. Save their lives, not their bodies. Broken legs cost less than a broken neck. That meant that the car’s occupants, while alive, could still be in really bad shape.
They pulled the driver out first, because he was closer to the ambulance. He looked relatively okay. They found a few greenstick fractures on the ribs and tibia, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. There was a lot of magic roiling on the surface of all of the bones; the monster equivalent of bruising. No other injuries. They checked his pockets for any form of ID and found a driver’s license. His name was listed as Papyrus.
Once they’d gotten him secured in the ambulance they moved on to the passenger. He seemed to be in much worse condition. There were at least two spiral fractures and several straight ones. His ribs were a mess. He had a similar amount of bruising. His ID said his name was Slim.
The ambulance pulled away from the scene with two stretchers anchored to the sides. The EMTs sat up front. They didn’t see when Papyrus batted his eye sockets open. He saw Slim, laid out opposite him. He worked his hand free of the restraints and reached out his arm for his lover. They were just close enough that Papyrus could touch him. Just barely. So he did so all of the rest of the way to the hospital.
Chapter 21: MapleBlossom, Find the Cure
At first, it started as just one yellow spot. Papyrus dismissed it as a bit of finger paint left over from his day babysitting Frisk. Then the second spot happened. Then another. Then three more. Soon, there were hundreds of the things all over Papyrus’ body. Bright, yellow spots.
Slim was worried the moment the second dot showed up. They weren’t supposed to get diseases, were they? They were skeletons after all. But with two dots...maybe they had just missed one the first time. But then there was three. Then six. Then twelve. After that, he stopped counting and started researching. Slim spent hours pouring through medical books and journals. It wasn’t as though they could just go to the doctor. There were no doctors for skeletons.
Papyrus was in complete denial. He kept taking hot showers to try to wash away the “finger paint”. It never worked. He was in denial when the spots started itching. He was in denial when his body turned into one big ache. He was in denial when it got harder to breathe. Nothing swayed him.
Slim was frantically searching for an answer. He found nothing that matched with those yellow spots. He tried searching for the other symptoms, but nothing looked right. He tried running a blood sample. Nothing. He tried taking a magic sample. Nothing. As a latch ditch effort, Slim took a culture of one of the spots and looked at it under the microscope. What he found shocked him.
Tiny little spores met his eye lights. It looked like some kind of a fungus? Slim was far from an expert, but he knew fungal infections were treatable. Maybe it was time to make an appointment with a doctor after all.
Chapter 22: Blue (US Sans) & Papyrus & Undyne, Accidentally Hurt by a Friend
Warnings: Graphic description of Injury
Blue sat at the edge of the circle. He needed to be ready to jump in and take over the battle when Papyrus finally wore down. They were relay sparring. Undyne wanted to know if two monsters could beat one. Other than the obvious way, though. So Blue and Papyrus had brainstormed a bit and come up with this. If it worked for runners and swimmers, maybe it would work for sparring? It was worth a try.
It looked like Papyrus was starting to wear out. He was blocking less and dodging more. Spears were embedded in the walls all over. The cluster of bones was much smaller. It was clustered almost directly behind Undyne.
Blue jumped to his feet, turning his eyes away from the fight for only a moment to grab his attack hammer from where it was sitting next to him. In that time, Undyne threw a random barrage of spears at Papyrus. Some he blocked. Some he dodged. Unfortunately, among the spears he dodged was one that was aimed directly at Blue. None of them saw it coming until there was no time to do anything.
“BLUE!!” Papyrus and Undyne screamed in unison.
Blue didn’t even whimper. He was knocked back several feet by the force of the blow to his skull. The others rushed over, spar forgotten, to see if they could help their wounded friend. Papyrus pulled out an emergency cinnabunny and tried to stuff it into Blue’s broken mouth.
The healing magic had an affect. The wound had taken a broken chunk out of the right side of Blue’s head that included his eye socket, nasal aperture, and a third of his permanent grin. The edges had been slowly creeping further. With the food, the dusting stopped. Papyrus started to breathe again. He’d been terrified he might have lost one of his best friends. There might still be a hole big enough to stick a baseball through, but that could be dealt with. A pile of dust could not.
Undyne gathered the unconscious skeleton into her arms and nodded grimly at Papyrus. then the two started galloping towards the nearest hospital. Blue needed all the help he could get.
Chapter 23: Blue, Shot with an Arrow
Warnings: Some violence
Blue took careful aim at his target. He pulled back the string of his bow to the perfect depth. He held the blunted arrow so it did not sway. His tongue stuck ever so slightly out of his mouth. When the wind felt just right he released.
“Ow! Hey, what’s this? An arrow? Who shot it at me?” A distant voice rang out.
Blue quickly dissolved his bow and arrows into the magic they were made of. He then climbed out of the tree he was in with the nonchalance of someone who routinely climbed trees, which he did not. This showed in the fact that he lost his grip on one of the branches and fell several feet to the ground. He hit and broke several branches on the way down. This only added to his pain and general scruffiness.
When he finally managed to shake the cobwebs out of his head from the fall, Captain Alphys was standing in front of him, arms crossed in front of her chest and one foot tapping an annoyed beat. She was holding a blunt arrow in her right hand.
“Explain,” She commanded simply.
Blue tried to stand up, but his ribs protested, as did his head. Definitely a few cracked ribs and a concussion. He sat back down again and looked up at her.
“WELL,” He started, “YOU TOLD ME TO PRACTICE MY MARKSMANSHIP, AND TODAY HAPPENED TO BE VALENTINE’S DAY, AND YOU SAID YOU DID WANT TO HAVE THE COURAGE TO ASK-”
Alphys interrupted him, “-Don’t even think about finishing that sentence. My love life is none of your bloody business.”
“BUT YOU WERE JUST TELLING ME THE OTHER DAY-”
Alphys interrupted him again, “-that doesn’t mean you get to act on it. Anyways, how in the world is shooting me with an arrow going to give me courage enough to ask her out? All I got from it was a bruise.”
Blue looked sheepish. “THAT’S HOW IT WORKS FOR CUPID. I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A VALENTINE’S DAY THING.”
Alphys sighed. Somehow she could believe that of him. She handed him back the arrow.
“That’s definitely not how it works, Sans. I’ll let you off the hook this time, but don’t let me catch you doing it again. Understand?”
Blue nodded, “I UNDERSTAND. I WILL PRETEND TO BE CUPID AND SHOOT YOU AGAIN.”
Alphys walked away, leaving Blue on his own in the middle of Snowdin forest. Once he was sure she was out of earshot, he swore.
“DAMN. IF I HADN’T FALLEN OUT OF THAT TREE MY PLAN WOULD HAVE WORKED. OH WELL. THERE GOES THAT WAY TO WORK OUT ALL MY FRUSTRATIONS. BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD.”
Chapter 24: Error & Blue, Tied to a Chair
Warning: strong language, non-consentual platonic touching, haephobia
“WhY ThE HeLL Am I TiEd tO a CHaiR?” A glitchy, echo-y voice screeched out. The anti-void didn’t listen. It was used to it’s longest term occupant’s random screaming. Screaming was normal.
“BECAUSE! IF I HADN’T TIED YOU UP, YOU WOULD HAVE RUN AWAY.”
The second voice was very chipper, but it also held a note of cynicism that came with experience. The voice came from a monster dressed in long pants, a grey t-shirt, and a blue bandana and boats. He was standing behind the chair.
In the chair, tied very thoroughly, was a black-boned monster covered in errors. His hands were red and yellow. Blue strings went down from his sockets into his mouth. The mouth was full of yellow teeth and five blue tongues. His outfit was a shamble of patches and stitches. The pant legs were two different lengths. His slippers were stark black against the red of his legs. He looked like the villain he sometimes was.
Error harrumphed. “THaT’s tRuE. WhAt tHe heLL Do yOu WaNT thEn, So I cAn Go?”
Blue skipped past him. Once he was in front of Error, he spun around and bend down to Error’s level. They were uncomfortably close. Error tried to lean back, but the chair prevented him from doing so.
“THIS IS WHAT I WANT,” Blue said. He reached out and pulled Error and the chair into a hug.
Error’s eyes went dark, filled with error signs, and he screamed. Blue just continued hugging him. When Error started to reboot, Blue let him go and stepped back.
Error woke to seeing Blue standing innocently in front of him. Error’s whole body felt sore. When he went to rub his arm, he found that he was tied to a chair.
“WhY ThE HeLL Am I TiEd tO a CHaiR?”
Chapter 25: Sans, Frisk, Undyne, Asriel, Chara, Bloodstained Clothes
Warnings: Referenced/Implied death
“But why did you do it? They were just trying to give us a gift!” Asriel wailed. He was crying. Big, blubbery tears were making his fur all wet.
“i guess you could say-” Sans amused chuckle was interrupted by Undyne’s screech.
“-NO MORE FREAKING PUNS!” Undyne shouted. She stamped her foot as well. Several tons of leaves fell down from the trees around them. Frisk shushed her.
He ignored her and continued, “-that the gift for us was a dead ringer.”
Chara rolled their eyes. “Absolutely hilarious, comedian. Now would you please focus your attention on standing guard? It’s not that hard. Of course, you’ve managed to mess it up so many times. Literally falling asleep on the job? Pathetic.”
“Yeah right, punk! Do your freaking job!” Undyne hollered from where she was standing in a three-foot deep hole.
“Why don’t you do yours? It’s supposed to be a six foot deep hole, not three. Keep going.”
Undyne took a moment to break in her constant digging to give Chara an angry look. Chara stuck their tongue out at the fish monster. Those two got along like a house on fire.
Frisk quietly got between Chara and Undyne and held something out. Chara tore their sparking eyes away from Undyne to look much more softly at Frisk. They waited patiently while Frisk finger-signed something to them. They looked down at their bloodstained clothes and frowned. Then Chara reached out and grabbed the pile of clothes Frisk had been holding.
Chara sighed. “Fine. I’ll go change into fresh clothes. But you need to keep an eye on the fish and bonesy over here. Asriel, come on. You can cry all you want somewhere else.”
The two walked off, leaving Sans, Undyne, and Frisk on their own. Sans looked down at his own set of muddy and bloody clothes. He looked chagrined and asked, “hey, frisk, any chance you’ve got a set for me?”
Frisk, ever vigilant, pulled out a clean t-shirt (complete with puns) and shorts. Sans gratefully took the clothes and vanished into the void. A few seconds later he returned, bloodstained clothes bunched in a ball. He threw the ball at Frisk, who caught it. Then they nodded and started back off to wherever they had gotten the clean clothes from. It probably wouldn’t be their only trip.