#Originally the second one of Papyrus with his eyes glowing had Sans comforting him with a forehead donk - even in this redraw! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kimtanathegeek · 4 years

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Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 23

Sans, my boy, what the pants are you doing...?

Thank you for reading! :)

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.

First

The cart traversed slowly through a long hallway of purple and violet bricks, the droning rumble of the wheels on brick resonating off the walls. Sans sat up, peering cautiously over the sides of the cart as he remained hidden behind the tarped bundle of tools.

He could see guards, now far behind them, in small wooden outposts on either side of the doorway, having barred the doors by lowering a long horizontal stone slab into a row of multiple iron bar holders on the doors and the wall. They were now relaxing in their chairs, fulfilling their mundane duty of watching the doors—that were never attacked—for humans—that never came. One started reading, the other put his feet up on the outpost and leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. The guards didn’t even notice the small stowaway in the back of the final cart, staring at them fearfully.

The hallway was quite wide, and rather empty aside from the occasional sconce on the walls, burning with magical flames that filled the area with a warm glow.

With the only two monsters behind the cart not paying attention, Sans crept to the left side, carefully looking forward while trying to stay unseen behind the logs. He noticed a small structure approaching that they would soon be passing. It looked like a tiny room with a doorless doorway facing the purple cavern doors. It was made of the same purple bricks, protruded from the wall, and, as they neared it, Sans could see that the ceiling, roof, and floor sloped gradually downward, creating a ramp-like path leading underground.

He shuddered, worried that, at any moment, someone might come running up from below and spot him. Maybe a whole army of guards was underneath them, about to come through the doorway and surround the cart to search for humans—and stowaway children. He kept his head down.

Eventually, the cart entered the main cavern, the echoes of the wheels disappearing into the air and the cart-bed becoming engulfed in brighter light. Sans flattened himself on the wooden floor and pulled the edge of the tarped bundle up over him as much as the slack would allow.

This was the part he was most worried about—how to get off the cart without being seen. It was the portion of his plan that he could not account for, and was his largest risk of getting caught. As he racked his brain, the cart slowed to a mild crawl. Sweat poured down Sans’ skull as he held his breath, expecting the workers to find him at any second.

“Right, now, boys, this way...this way.”

The cart gave a lurch, as did Sans’ stomach, then he felt the cart turning left.

“Ok, now forward...forward.”

The cart was pulled accordingly.

“Right, now, hang on.”

The voice came close. Too close. The cart came to a stop.

Sans nearly jumped out of his jacket when he saw the monster who owned the voice—a large, burly bull—walk past the right side of the cart, where Sans was facing. Sans shut his eyes and covered his head, waiting for the bull to climb into the back of the cart and grab him, when he heard his voice calling a short distance from the back of the cart.

“Right, now, back...back.”

Sans hit into the logs, bumping his skull slightly, as the cart jerked backwards and started rolling in reverse.

“Keep ‘er coming...keep ‘er coming. Nice’n’straight. Good...good. Little bit more...a little bit more.... That’s it, stop!”

The cart halted suddenly, rolling Sans into the tools. There was a metallic jostling sound as he hit them, and Sans was terrified he had given himself away with the noise.

“Perfect! Great job, boys!”

Sans could tell from the loudness of his voice that the bull was right behind the cart. Only the tarped bundle separated the bull from Sans. Fear gripped him as he waited for the inevitable. What on earth made him think he could just sneak into the cavern like this without getting caught?!

“Right, now, let’s take lunch, then we’ll unload these here logs. I hear they’ve served us up some mighty fine stew’n’sandwiches over in the break area.”

The bull’s voice trailed from behind the cart, past Sans as he went around the side, towards the front, slowly fading off as he walked away.

Sans remained still, waiting, straining his ears, then, when he realized everyone had left, he breathed for the first time in what seemed like hours. His chest was pounding, his body trembling fiercely, and sweat poured off him.

After a few moments of trying to regain his composure, he sat up to see where he was.

The cart had been parked alongside all the others, side by side, in a work area. The backs of the carts were facing an open space, presumably an unloading area, and Sans could see work tables, saws, chisels, and various other woodworking tools on the opposite side of the open area.

Further down was another work area used for masonry, with the wheelbarrows, bricks, mortar, and other tools he recognized from when he spied them through the tunnel “windows” long ago. The masonry area was backed by a brick wall Sans judged to be the wall that covered the cavern tunnel entrance. He looked up the sheer purple brick wall—there was no indication that there had ever been a tunnel entrance up in the area where it lie hidden.

Along the wall on his right was a narrow pathway that led towards the corner where it met the wall that covered the tunnel entrance. Taking his chance, he carefully and silently stood up, crawled over the tarped-up tool bundle, and slid off the cart. When he hit the floor, he froze, listening to see if anyone heard him land on the sawdusty floor. Then he crept towards the edge of the cart to look down the path to see if anyone was coming up from the hallway he had just rode through.

The coast was clear, so he stepped onto the path and walked down it quickly in a crouch. When he reached the corner, he turned and saw that the path continued down along the wall, and could see no end to the pathway. He crept down the path, passed the masonry area, and continued until he reached the start of a continuous row of brick buildings.

He peered behind the first one and saw numerous monsters walking by—some carrying baskets, others strolling casually, and he even saw a few children wandering around playfully. The more he watched, the more comfortable he felt that he would go unnoticed. And seeing some of the older children walking around alone without an adult helped ease his fears that he’d be caught on sight.

Still fearing being seen, he pulled up his hood over his skull. He then leaned against the building, took a deep breath, and crept down the small path between the two buildings. As he reached the edge, he hesitated fearfully, then put his head down and walked out into the small flow of monsters, melding into them.

He kept his head down, afraid to look up, and felt like every eye was on him. He waited for the feeling of being grabbed and pulled away, but it never came. Eventually, he relaxed enough to look up, and his breath caught in his throat when he did.

The monsters had been busy.

The enormous cavern had been transformed into a large city. Huge buildings rose towards the ceiling, the only portion of the cavern left in its natural state—though every stalactite had been removed. The buildings were made of the same violet and purple bricks, set in with multiple small lancelet windows, and the roofs of the majority of buildings were crenellated. Some structures had rows of columns, others were shorter and wider, and there was even a large domed building off in the distance.

It was massive, well built up, and bustling with happy, busy monsters—you’d never know that they had fled to this place as war refugees.

Sans didn’t know where to start, but he knew where he needed to go. And he needed to get there fast—he’d already been away from Papyrus far longer than he would have liked. He swallowed down his fear and approached a mother cat with her three kittens.

“E-excuse me, miss...,” Sans stammered timidly.

The cat’s whiskers split into a warm grin, her eyes creasing kindly.

“Yes, my dear?” she purred soothingly.

“I-I’m a bit...lost,” he mumbled shyly. “I’m looking for where to get food....”

“Oh, don’t be shy, little one,” she said gently. “It’s easy to get lost here in Home. I’m still getting used to it myself. And just when I think I know where things are, they build up more to confuse me!”

Sans grinned as his body shook with nerves.

“You’ll find food sellers in the market,” she smiled as she blinked slowly.

The kind cat gave Sans directions, and he thanked her gratefully. He rushed off, following the route, and after a few turns, he came across a row of wooden stands, booths, tents, and open-faced brick buildings.

This is what Sans had planned to find since watching the woodcutters, what he had risked everything to reach, and he was finally here—a place to get food. And, if he was lucky, he might also be able to get some supplies, as well. He smiled with a hint of sadness as he started strolling down the path that reminded him of the market his parents used to take him and his brother to.

Shops and sellers were on both sides of the road. There were barrels and baskets teeming with products, tables and shelves displaying items, and the luscious smells wafting towards him told Sans that there would be no shortage of fresh food for him to find.

He didn’t have much time, so he wanted to see what kind of shops were available before he decided on which items to choose, and he still wasn’t sure if he would be able to purchase anything. He didn’t have a speck of gold to his name, but Sans hoped, if his plan went accordingly, he’d still be able to leave with goods to bring to Papyrus.

There was a smithy, run by a large Aaron. He was by an anvil, hammering away fiercely at a red-hot strip of iron. His metalwork was strung on ropes draped over the awning of his open-face workshop, jars of nails and arrowheads sat on the counter on the side, and tools, weapons, cookware, and metal farming equipment were displayed in tall baskets and crates in front of the counter. The heat of his furnace reached Sans as he passed.

Across the road was a woodshop stand, run by a downy woodpecker. Wooden cutlery was displayed in small baskets, plates, bowls, and cups were piled up on shelves, crates for sale stood stacked along the side, and various other wooden creations were displayed neatly in baskets, crates, and on shelves.

Next to the smithy was a jeweler, run by a thin, sapphire blue monster with large eyes and even larger eyelashes. Rings, necklaces, and bracelets glittered in the light, fibulae for capes and cloaks were displayed on strips of velvety fabric, and pocket watches draped over the side of the counter. Jewel encrusted boxes were displayed at tilted angles in shelves along the wall. These were on the right side of the stand, while on the left were items for more practical uses—thick iron chains, chainmail vests, and weapon sheathes and hilts.

On the other side was a tailor stand, run by a sable ferret. Baskets teeming with spools and skeins of thread, twine, yarn, ribbons, and rope sat on the left side, while the right was covered with shelves full of large, rectangular spools of fabric in various colors, styles, and textures. Bundles of fabric scraps tied in colorful ribbons filled baskets in the entryway. A sign advertising fabric and shoe repair stood on a tiny easel on the counter. Needles, tapestry tools, circular looms, and other similar tools were scattered around the stand in small baskets.

Next was a bakery, run by a flour-covered bear. Loaves of bread and rolls filled baskets along the entryway, jars of confections, pastries, and cookies covered both sides, and the counter had a glass display case, behind which were beautifully decorated cakes, large pies, and delicate specialty pastries. Four sets of ovens, a countertop range, and a flour- and dough-encrusted counter with numerous baking utensils lined the back. Sans’ mouth watered and his stomach growled, but he continued on.

There was a produce shop, run by a lanky hare. Fruits, vegetables, mushrooms, herbs, and flowers of all sorts filled baskets. Jars of dried fruit, dried herbs, nuts, seeds, and pickled goods lined the counter. Sans really wished he had waited to finish breakfast that morning as he rubbed his rumbling stomach and moved on.

There was a general foodstuffs store, run by a spectacled mouse. Shelves were stocked with small packages of grains, oats, granola, flours, sugar, spices, and more. Jars of nut butters, jams, preserves, oils, and other foods filled baskets throughout the storefront. Wheels of cheese were piled up on the floor and in baskets, some that could fit in Sans’ palm, others bigger than he was.

The last store had a mix of different items, and was run by a thin hen. Shelves, baskets, and crates were filled with all kinds of items—food, tools, pottery, clothing, supplies, toys, just to name a few. It was a very curious shop, and greatly intrigued Sans with its variety of items.

Having reached the end of the main shops—there were small sellers with tents and tables further down the path, but Sans didn’t have the time to look through their wares right now—he decided to return to the jeweler.

As Sans approached, the sapphire monster was twisting thick wire around a metal bar with a pair of pliers, coiling it as she pulled it taut with each turn. He waited patiently, not wanting to disturb her from her work, wringing his hands as he rehearsed what he wanted to ask over and over in his mind. The monster caught sight of him in the corner of her enormous eye and spoke to him in a velvety voice.

“Be right with you, darling.”

“S’ok, I don’t mind waiting,” Sans said, his voice small. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

The monster smiled, flashing a giant row of snow-white teeth. “You are so kind. Just give me a moment.”

She coiled a few more times, then pulled the wire free, snipping off the end with a strong set of wire cutters. To Sans, the piece looked like a tightened-up spring.

“Miss, what’s that?” he asked, his curiosity piqued in spite of his nerves.

“This,” she said, holding up the coiled wire, “is how I make chainmail. I will be cutting down the middle here, and that will turn this piece into many rings. I attach the rings to other rings, and that’s how I make things like that.”

She pointed to the chainmail vests hanging up. Sans went over and lifted a corner of one of them up, seeing how the material was made with small circular rings connected in a particular pattern. It fascinated him as he peered closer and turned the chainmail this way and that.

“So, my little one,” she asked smoothly. “What may I do for you this lustrous day?”

“I-I was, um,” he stammered, lowering the corner of chainmail in his hand quickly, his nerves getting the better of him. “I-I wondered if, um, well, you know, you, um...purchased items for gold?”

The monster’s huge eyelashes ruffled as she blinked in surprise. Then she smiled warmly as her eyebrows raised sadly, her enormous mouth revealing huge, perfect teeth.

“I am so sorry, darling,” her velvety tone made the apology sound so soothing. “I don’t normally purchase items from customers like the other shopkeepers do. My wares are of a specific caliber—I owe my beautiful customers quality products.”

Her heart broke as Sans’ face fell, downcast.

“Oh, now, my little one, it’s not personal. No, not at all. I’ve had many customers wish to sell me their old jewelry and findings. I really am sorry, I wish I could help you....”

Sans struggled to stuff down his utter disappointment. “I-it’s ok, I understand, miss....”

He unshouldered the haversack and reached into the main pocket as he continued. “You said that other shopkeepers purchased items from customers. Do you know who might be interested in these?”

He held out a couple lucent gems in his hand. The monster’s eyes widened as she breathed in a soft gasp through her large mouth. She rounded the counter to come closer to Sans, her eyes never leaving the gems. She knelt down in front of him, her hands cupping the air around his hand in marvel. He could see their light shining in her eyes.

“Th-these,” she whispered, her voice like silk. “I’ve seen these before.... Studded in the walls where the water flowed.... I saw them as we fled, but couldn’t stop to reach them.... How did you ever get them?”

Sans chose his words carefully. “My brother and I, we found a lot of them laying loose on the ground, so we grabbed them up.”

Her eyes finally left the glowing gems and met Sans’. Her eyelashes rustled like fall leaves as she blinked.

“Darling, do you mean to say that you have more of these?”

“Yes, miss,” he answered, nudging the haversack on the floor with his foot. The sound of gems jostling in the pieces of fabric made the sapphire monster squeak silkily with joy.

“Little one, I take back what I said,” she said, putting her hands on Sans’ shoulders. “I should have seen what you had before I turned you away. Please forgive me, I was wrong. This is exactly the kind of quality item my customers deserve! Oh, the magnificent pieces I could make, the usefulness of illumination and the glamor of radiance!”

Sans raised his eyebrows and frowned apologetically. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way, I know you said you don’t normally buy like others do—”

She gasped, snapping out of her dreamy visions of what she could fashion with the gems.

“No! Darling!” She clutched her soul as she gasped fearfully. “Please! The other shopkeepers would be fighting tooth and claw to get these amazing beauties! I can give you more gold for them than they could ever give you combined. Please, I will take all of them!”

Sans’ eyes lit up. Now it was his turn to gasp. “R-really? A-all of them?”

“Yes, my little one,” she smiled her enormous grin. Then her voice faltered sadly as she looked down at his haversack. “Oh, how I wish that bag was just a mite bit larger. I’m sure there’s not that many in there....”

Sans looked at the bag with her. “Oh, well, I can always bring you more—”

He gave a small startled noise as she grabbed him by the upper arms.

“You can get me more?!” Her silky voice made the urgency relaxing.

“Y-yes, miss,” he stammered timidly. He couldn’t tell her how, but she didn’t need to know that he had access to the darkened area. “W-we have a lot more...b-back home. This is just all I could bring for now.”

A squeal of glee emanated from deep within her chest as she let go of Sans to shake her fists in the air excitedly.

“Darling, please, don’t let another shopkeeper have these precious stones. I will buy any and all that you have, any time!”

Sans smiled, relieved that his plan to sell the gems for gold actually panned out. “Thank you, miss, I really, really appreciate that.”

“Not at all, my little one,” she breathed in her velvety tone. “I should be the one thanking you.”

He started pulling them out of the haversack, the monster’s eyes growing wider and wider as the pile grew.

She rushed around to the back of the counter where her gold was kept. “Now, my little one, how many blue and how many pink?”

Sans counted them out. “There’s 47 blue ones and 22 pink ones.”

The monster made a joyful sound, then cleared her throat, regaining her composure. “All right, I’ll give you 100 gold for the blue ones and 200 for the pink.”

300 gold! Sans thought. That will buy plenty of food for Papyrus!

Sans tried to keep his expression calm, since she was offering a lot of gold for the gems. If he appeared too eager, she might reconsider. He lowered his tone so she didn’t lower the price. “300 gold for the lot?”

“Oh, no, darling,” she said in her velvety voice. “100 for the blue and 200 for the pink—each.”

Sans stood there a moment in utter shock, his eyes wide and unseeing as he fell back on the ground onto his rear. He was, quite literally, floored.

“Oh no,” the monster gasped, concern filling her tone as she raised a hand to her enormous mouth. “Is that price too low?”

===============

Author’s note:

Just a note about that "doorless doorway" the cart passes in the hallway just after entering the cavern doors, since this is probably the only time we see it.

Sometime in the future, Frisk will be emerging from it.

This handy little illustration I made should explain it a bit. :)

[A better resolution of this image can be seen on my DeviantArt here

Because I can’t get the silly thing to resize, lol! ]

Ruins screengrab by www.deviantart.com/papikari

#undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans and papyrus #sans undertale #papyrus undertale #skelebros #babybones #TBMP #TwoBrothersManyPaths #Two Brothers Many Paths

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redeyedryu · 5 years

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Cross Dimensional Problems

Chapter 4 - The Outcodes | [Ao3] | 1 | « | x | » |

Here’s more of this hot mess that I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing with! 8′D

Summary: Some skeletons like to hold hands.

Some like to make you fear for your life.

Others yet like to ask all the questions.

So. This is awkward.

You're currently sat at the head of the main dining table in the dining room just off to the side of the kitchen. Sans, Papyrus, and his Underswap doppelgänger are stood beside and behind you, Papyrus resting a reassuring hand upon your shoulder.

Stars, have you mentioned how much you love this skeleton yet? Because holy hell is he burning a hole through your heart.

Seated around the table are several other skeletons. A few more than you were expecting, really; some you weren't expecting to see at all. Like the outcode skeletons Ink and Error.

You’d nearly choked at seeing those two. They're not often included in these kind of scenarios, after all. You have to wonder what that means and how it might affect you, if at all. You, a creator; Ink, the protector of AUs; Error, the destroyer of AUs. However, just like everything else that has transpired in the last hour or so, you shove the thought away, shelving it for later (and what you mean by this is actually never, if you can help it).

Those two aside there are the typical bunch—the “classics” in this kind of story: Underswap, Underfell (and ho boi, those two don't look like they've eased up at all), and Swapfell. You're an odd mix of elated and apprehensive at the inclusion of the Horrortale brothers, who are sat at the head opposite you. Horrortale Sans is doing his creepy smiley thing, phalanges tapping out a dull rhythm as he just stares at you. His brother, seated comfortably beside him (because this table is huge—it needs to fit twelve, after all) is all smiles. And hey, are those braces? You hope that means they're being treated well. A lot of stories wind up giving that particular pair of brothers hell.

You miss the way Horrortale Sans’s bloated red eye-light narrows at your inspection of his brother, your attention abruptly being drawn back to Papyrus as he squeezes the meat of your shoulder. He clears his non-existent throat and calls out to the room:

“HELLO, EVERYONE! BEFORE WE ‘DIG IN’, WE HAVE EXCITING NEWS WE WOULD LIKE TO SHARE!”

Papyrus pauses to look down at you and the way he smiles so reassuringly—his sockets closing as he smiles so incredibly wide—sets something tingling in your chest, soft and warm and fuzzy. Damn skeleton is too precious for his own good. Stop being so damn adorable, Papyrus!

“I AM SURE YOU ARE ALL WONDERING AS TO WHY THERE IS A STRANGE, NEW HUMAN SEATED WITH US.”

Op. Moment ruined.

Your cheeks heat up and your ears burn. Really, Papyrus? Is that the best descriptor you can come up with? “Strange”? Thanks, mister, way to make a woman feel special.

The room goes silent, save for the idle drumming of Horrortale Sans’s fingers. Nevertheless, Papyrus continues.

“PLEASE WELCOME THE NEWEST ADDITION TO OUR EVER-GROWING HOUSEHOLD…” and here he flounders for a moment, as if he’s forgotten something. Or perhaps is waiting? He’s looking at you expectantly for some reason…? Oh! Right! You have yet to give them your name, haven't you? …or have you? You can't remember.

You turn your attention back to the table at large, eyes drifting from one skeleton to the next. And if you keep focusing back on Ink and Error well… that’s just a coincidence. They are seated just to the left of you…

You give a brief introduction, a simple, “Heya,” along with your name and hope that’ll be that, that you can all just move on and not ask questions and just eat the heavenly smelling pasta dish set before you. The salad isn't looking half bad, either. But of course things can't be that easy; life can't be that nice.

It's Ink that speaks up, sockets wide and curious. There’s a yellow star in his left eye socket and a blue rectangle in his right. He’s leaning forward in his seat, arms crossed on the table.

“Oh? What kind of AU are you from,” he asks and you think you might have broken out into a cold sweat. Your shoulders are tense again, that's for sure.

Please stop talking to me…

“I haven't been to very many of the ‘monsters are humans’ ones,” he continues on, oblivious to your unease. “Are you a Sans? Or a Papyrus?”

Oh! Yes! Let’s go with that! Just… just let him come up with his own assumptions! That'll keep things from being too… strange (to borrow Papyrus’s word choice) between you and the outcodes.

But. Well. We did just mention how nothing could be easy. So when Papyrus announces, loud enough for absolutely everyone to hear, “WHY INK, SHE ISN’T EITHER!” you start to shrink down into your seat with a groan.

Papyrus, for the love of all that is sacred and holy in this world, please stop talking!!

He doesn't, of course, just keeps on digging your grave deeper and deeper. Is it too late to rescind your love and praise for this skeleton?

“IN FACT, SHE HAS INFORMED US THAT NOT ONLY IS SHE NOT FROM THIS UNIVERSE, SHE ISN'T FROM ANY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OR TIMELINE AT ALL!”

You don't miss the way Ink and Error respond to that. Ink’s brows furrow and as he blinks, a yellow question mark and orange exclamation point light up his sockets. His mouth parts in what you think is shocked confusion, as if he’s trying to puzzle out what, exactly, Papyrus’s words mean.

Error, meanwhile, who had previously been so nonchalant, so disinterested and disengaged from the conversation, jolts, and his jetblack skull tilts ever so slightly in your direction. Those off-color pips of light in his sockets drag so very slowly, so very deliberately towards you. If you weren't sweating before, you sure as hell are now. At least it doesn’t glow like a skeleton’s.

Oh, how the tables have tabled.

Maybe you really shouldn’t have been so blasé about your origins, earlier.

Unaware of your inner turmoil, Papyrus just continues on. “APPARENTLY SHE IS FROM A REALITY IN WHICH WE DO NOT EXIST AS ANYTHING MORE THAN FICTION!” He proudly proclaims, and if he wasn't still holding your shoulder, you would have slipped down your chair and out under the table in a mad dash to get away from… whatever you're sure is about to go down. Maybe you can will yourself into a puddle of regret if you try hard enough.

You hear a haughty HMPH! and a less than pleased tch from down the table that only slightly distracts you from planning your escape. Without looking, you can't say for sure who it is, but you'd put money down on it being the Underfell brothers. They were the saltiest skeletons you had met thus far, after all. But you're not exactly in the mood to face them or press your luck. No, you’d much rather be anywhere than here right now, thank you.

Unfortunately, before you can put any half-baked plans into action, Error speaks up. An unnamed, primal fear tingles along your spine at his voice. Like all other Sans his voice is low, deep, and has a bit of a rumble to it, though there is some kind of static—a bit of a disjointed hitch—to it; it’s almost like listening to a radio skipping through frequencies. “T͘͢h̨͢ą-t̸h̸a̷ţ ̷so-o̷?͝” he says, and it doesn’t come out as a question. That unrestrained, primal fear races through your veins, down to your fingers and toes. You tense in your seat and you’re sure Papyrus, whose hand is still laid upon your shoulder, can feel how on edge you are. You can’t help thinking Error’s words came out like an accusation.

You don’t respond, merely purse your lips and clench your jaw. There’s a large opening into another room off to the right. It’s only a few feet away from where you’re sat. Error would have to vault the table to get at you and there would likely be at least a few skeletons that would try to stop him. There’s gotta be a door some-

Oh.

What?

Someone’s… someone’s holding your hand??

Once again you are distracted from planning your salvation, this time by Ink. His eye sockets are blown wide and the lights in them are burning bright, one a neon green triangle and the other a yellow swirl. He’s grinning wide and he’s holding onto you so tight.

“You’re a Creator?” he breathes and oof. No. Don’t say it, Ink, don’t say it out loud. You pointedly don’t look at Error, too busy trying to tamp down the sudden rising panic in your gut. Or maybe that’s acid? You’re not going to throw up, are you? Crap. You don’t want to deal with this right now. You can’t deal with this. Why can’t he just let you ignore the reality of the situation?

You tell yourself not to say anything, try to pull your hand back, but his grip is so strong, he won’t let go, why won’t he let go?

Against your wishes, you eke out a strained, nearly squeaked, “Uhm?”

Apparently that’s as good an admission as any for Ink because he just starts laughing. It’s a deep, full bodied chuckle.

“Isn’t that great, Error? She’s a Creator! ”

Oh god. No, please stop. He’s signing your death warrant right now, isn't he? Damn outcode skeleton! You’re not fooled by his stupid, adorable, inkbloted smiling face. You know his true colors.

“T͘-tch.̨ ̧Ju-j͡us̢t a̵ ̡di͟r̢t͏-͟dįr͜ty̶ ͜h̛ac͢k̷e͞r-͝er.” Error grumbles.

You chance a glance at him—just a quick, split-second peek—and for a moment you just.

Blank.

He’s not looking at you.

He’s back to his earlier disinterested nonchalance. You let out a relieved sigh, a veritable weight lifting from your chest. He doesn’t care about you. Holy shit you don’t think you could be any more relieved right now. You had honestly thought you were dead for a moment there. Guess you were over-reacting? You are good at doing that.

Another sigh escapes as you just bask in the fact Error’s not paying you any further mind, that he’s just brushed you off.

“Yeah,” you reply softly, slouching into your seat. And then jolt because, “I-I mean no! No, I’m not! I'm not a ‘hacker’! I mean yes I guess you could say I'm a creator in the very loosest of senses…” Oh god, why are you talking? Stop talking, didn’t you tell yourself not to talk to these two? You're not helping yourself—you don’t need to explain anything!

But you just. Keep. Talking.

“I’ve never finished any of the AUs I began-” and here, for the briefest of moments, you think you feel Ink’s grip on your hand tighten ever so uncomfortably but decide to ignore it, “-I just. Just draw things… every now and again. Sometimes I um. Sometimes I… write… stuff.” You avoid looking at any of the skeletons, your free hand clenching into a fist in your lap. You hope they’ll leave it at that because how do you tell a room full of grown ass men that you spend a significant amount of your free time writing wish fulfillment fantasies about them? Simple answer: you don’t.

You hear a chuckle from down the table and can't keep yourself from looking. Swapfell Sans is making a poor attempt at stifling his laughter. He catches your gaze and lifts a socket in a knowing glance. Dear lord, he can't read your mind, can he? He’s not a telepath …right?

You’re obviously emoting something because he just grins this devious, delicious smirk before he lifts his wine glass to his serrated maw and takes a sip, all the while never breaking your gaze.

He fucking knows, doesn't he?

But there’s no way. He’s totally just fucking with you, trying to get a rise out of you!

Yeah! Well! You’ll see about that!!

You don't hear the soft snort he lets loose at the heated pout you shoot him.

The Fell skeleton variant sets down his glass and clears his throat, drawing the room’s attention to him. And thank the stars above and below because you’re sure you've met your lifetime quota of being the center of attention. Now if only Papyrus and Ink would unhand you…

“YES, YES, THIS IS ALL WELL AND INTERESTING,” Swapfell Sans’s voice cuts into the room, “BUT INTERROGATING THE HUMAN CAN WAIT UNTIL LATER, DON’T YOU THINK? IF THERE ARE ANY OBJECTIONS TO HER STAYING HERE, I SUGGEST YOU LOT HURRY IT UP. I DID NOT SLAVE AWAY IN THE KITCHEN FOR DINNER TO GO COLD.”

No one says anything initially and that's fine. Now that you're not actively fearing for your life, your hunger is reasserting itself. You haven’t even had your first helping and you’re already wondering if it would it be rude to ask for seconds because you're honestly ravenous. Guess stress makes you hungry.

Papyrus finally lets go of your shoulder (that’s one skeleton down) to take a seat beside you as his brother shuffles into a chair beside him, effectively sandwiching the tall skeleton between the two of you. Swap Papyrus goes to take the seat beside his brother, across the table from Ink and Error.

“WELL?” Swapfell Sans prompts, his tone impatient. If he had been standing, you're sure he would have been tapping an impatient boot.

There’s a hum to your right.

You look over to see Underswap Sans fidgeting in his seat, fiddling with a corner of his trademark baby blue bandanna.

“OUT WITH IT ALREADY,” Swapfell Sans grumbles.

“WELL.” Underswap Sans glances at you but quickly looks elsewhere when your eyes meet. “THE HUMAN INTRODUCED HERSELF, SHOULD WE NOT RECIPROCATE?”

Aw, precious, considerate bean.

Swapfell Sans seems to consider this a moment before he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the back of his chair. “IS IT NECESSARY TO INTRODUCE OURSELVES TO SOMEONE THAT APPARENTLY ALREADY KNOWS US?” He gives you a challenging look. “YOU ARE FAMILIAR WITH EVERYONE SEATED HERE, ARE YOU NOT?”

You feel Ink squeeze your hand and have to consciously resist yanking it free of his grasp. Seriously, why is he still clinging to you like the world’s most stubborn booger? And what’s with Swapfell Sans? What the hell, man, wasn’t he wanting to end this game of 20 questions? Is he still questioning the validity of your situation? Asshole. Stupid, hot, asshole.

“Uh… yeah? Y’all’re pretty much the standard go-to AUs.”

“ALL OF US?” You hear Underswap Sans gasp.

“Yeeees…?” Why did that come out as a question? “I mentioned it a bit to Classic Sans and your brother, but Underswap—that’s the name of your AU—and Underfell (that’s the name of the AU the salty pair over by the other end of the table belong to) are probably the top two most popular AUs. Swapfell-” and here you point to the respective skeletons, “and Horrortale-” you choose to ignore the way Horrortale Sans’s crimson eyelight is narrowed as he glares at you, his grin tight and dangerous, “are pretty popular, too. Outertale used to be pretty big, same with Mafiatale—or Mobtale, either or. They might still be? I don’t exactly peruse the fandom like some people do. Don’t have the attention span or energy for it.”

Swap Sans is leaning forward and huh. His eye lights really do turn into stars. Cute. “WHAT ABOUT THOSE TWO?” he questions, nodding to Ink and Error. “WHAT’RE THEIR AUS LIKE? ANY TIME WE TRY TO ASK ABOUT IT THEY NEVER GIVE US A STRAIGHT ANSWER.”

A chill races up your spine.

Oh boy. Treading back into dangerous waters, are we?

You slowly, s l o w l y turn your attention back to the outcodes. Ink is smiling softly at you and dammit , you can’t read this fucker. Error, meanwhile, is looking at you out of the corner of his sockets. He smirks when he catches your gaze, clearly just daring you to say something. Your eyes drift from his mis-matched eyelights to the cobalt blue magic leaking from his sockets and down his zygomatic bones. If you think about it, he’s technically two AUs, isn’t he? …one long, drawn out AU? And what about Fatal_Error?

…

All you manage is an ever so eloquent, “Uhm.”

Oh man. Forget the masseuse, you’re going to need an entire day-long visit to the spa to ease all this tension from your body.

You settle for a stumbling non-answer of, “It’s uh… Yeah their AUs are… a thing.”

Swap Sans frowns at you, clearly unsatisfied. “AW, C’MON!” he pouts, “NOT YOU TOO, HUMAN!”

“Sorry, Blue,” you apologize, laughing nervously. Sure, you may know a bit about these skeletons and their AUs but you’re getting the feeling you might want to be a bit more tight-lipped about your knowledge than you have been. Especially if you like living. Which you do. Most days.

You go to rub at the back of your neck, a nervous tick you’ve never quite been able to overcome, only to be reminded that Ink’s still holding your hand. You purse your lips and give the skeleton a rather heated look because you’re starting to get real tired of this. His grin just stretches.

What the fuck.

You stare at him and you’re pretty sure you’re full on ugly-scowling but at this point you don’t care. You would very much like your hand back, thank you! The bastard has other ideas, however, as he just holds your gaze, his sockets holding a rather gleeful tint.

You reiterate: What the fuck.

Is this guy trippin’ on his paints or something?

He blinks and his eyelights shift to a rouge square and a soft red pentagon. You yank your hand one more time and he blinks again, his eyelights shifting to a loose mossy green shape and a bright yellow diamond. With that yank finally, finally Ink releases your hand. You’re quick to snatch it away and if you scoot a little closer to Papyrus… well. Who can blame you?

You gingerly rub your relinquished hand under the table and look to Swap Sans, only to startle at the absolute starstruck look he’s giving you.

“Uh…?”

He nearly vaults himself onto the table. His brother’s steadying hand upon his shoulder is likely the only thing that kept him from doing just that.

“YOU EVEN KNOW MY NICKNAME, HUMAN?!”

“Uhm…” You lean back into your chair, trying to hide behind Papyrus and Sans. If he can’t see you, he’ll forget you’re there, right?

“DO THE OTHERS!!” Blue demands as he grabs his brother’s arm. “DO PAPY!!” You bite your lower lip in a strained effort to contain a completely inappropriate laugh. You definitely did not just interpret that in a completely different way than the excitable skeleton meant, nope. Your mind doesn’t live in the gutter, not at all.

…

Yup.

…

Man, so much for getting to the food before it goes cold.

You shoot a pointed glance to Swapfell Sans and he just fucking. Smirks at you. What is with these skeletons and their damn stupid grins? You’re starting to relate to Flowey’s “smiley trashbag” insult—smiley trashbags, the lot of ‘em!

You let loose a heavy, defeated sigh and say, “I’ll go over the nicknames I know but like I was telling some of y’all earlier, there’re so many different interpretations that it’s kind of hit or miss.”

Blue isn’t deterred in the slightest and the yet still challenging look Swapfell Sans is giving you seals it. Guess you’ve got no choice but to play along. Joy.

It’s nearly another ten minutes before you’re finally able to actually eat.

The food, to absolutely no one’s surprise, is cold.

At least now you can stop referring to everyone by their AU titles in your head.

-------- End Note : Nicknames --------

Classics: Sans (Classic), Papyrus (Paps)

Underswap: Blue (Sans), Stretch (Papyrus)

Underfell: Red (Sans), Edge/Boss (Papyrus)

Swapfell: Black (Sans), Rus (Papyrus)

Horrortale: Serif (Sans), Hickory (Papyrus)

#Red Drabbles #Undertale Fanfiction #Reader Insert #Cross Dimensional Problems #Reverse Harem #Let's just get this outta the way so i can finally get to the shitposty side of this fic #i have. SO MANY THINGS WRITTEN #so many #and they're pretty much all dumb #But also what's up with Ink?#hmmm.......

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drabbletale · 5 years

Text

Swapcest Pairing Meme

‘There’s no real answer to why they fell in love. To them, it was inevitable. To the world? Well, better not to think of it.’

Based on a genre meme I found in another fandom! I don’t want to link it though, because I KNOW they wouldn’t like to be linked to a blog like this lol....

Just some true-drabbles for swapcest because I miss it and it’s still OTP for me! I’ll be posting them separately too though.

UNDER THE CUT

Angst: (tw: character death)

Empty eye sockets, empty heart, empty hands. There was something so degrading about mourning over dust. Sure, it was simple enough when you knew it was coming, but a shocking death taking someone too young to be taken...

Papyrus felt so empty now. So empty all the time. All he wanted was a hug, but a very specific hug. A hug that was soft on the surface, but solid underneath his clothes. He wanted a hug from his brother. Gods, he had never hugged Sans enough. And now?

And now.

He had a carefully covered bowl of dust. There was no use in hugs with a bowl of dust, no warmth, no love, no... No Sans.

Nearly every monster in the Underground was mourning, sure. But it wasn't like this. They hadn't lost their starlight, their reason for living, their all.

Fuck, all he wanted was a hug.

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

AU: (Kitty!Blue)

"i love youuuu~" The teeny skelecat flicked its ear in response to his coo. Papyrus chuckled and reached his hand over the edge of the bed to rub said ear, careful not to tug too hard.

Blue chattered in response, pulling himself up to join Stretch on the bed. It was strange, that he could be so skeleton like and yet...

And yet be something completely different with just a pair of ears and a tail.

Blue collapsed against his chest and he laughed again. "are you hungry then, mr. grumpy? you tellin' me to get my lazy butt out of bed?"

The cat looked up at him with bright blue eyelights, not comprehending the words, but still so very attentive. "don't worry pretty blue, i'll be up in a jiffy." He yawned and stretched his body out, then covered them both up with the blanket.

Blue closed his eyes, curling closer.

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

First Time: (TW: nsfwish, dryhumping)

It was more intense than he had originally suspected it would be. Experience had told him that it was fun, but this was something different.

Sans was back-down on his bed, arms wrapped around Papyrus' neck. He was heavy, made more so by the full ectobody he had summoned and just that thought alone made Sans nearly choke with desire. His brother had his face buried in Sans' neck, breathing deep but quick as he pressed their clothed groins together.

He couldn't hold back and followed suit, summoning his own ectobody to make the grinding softer. "Ah, Papy, slow... Slow down or I'll... I'm gonna... mmhh..." Sans gasped as Papyrus pressed just a bit harder.

When Paps spoke, it almost sounded like he was out of breath, despite his lack of lungs. "sansy, it's ok, just... fuck... its good. please just..."

Sans seemed to understand and pushed back in equal measure.

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

Fluff: (tw: skelepreg)

They had been trying for months, to no avail. Papyrus had asked if it had to do with their biological... relationship, but Sans knew better. No, magic didn't work like that. No DNA or chemicals or mutations, at least not in the same way that non-magic beings had them.

Pure magic only took other magic to exist and the fact that they were brothers had nothing to do with struggling to have a baby.

But that concern, that stress of convincing him was over.

Sans straddled Papyrus, naked, full body formed, grinning as it caused his lover to groggily open his eyes.

It took only seconds before Papy noticed the second soul glowing bright in his belly. First shock, then joy, then relief and finally a tear falling down his cheekbone as he pulled Sans, and by extension their unborn child, into a tight hug. "i love you!"

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

Soulmate:

It was the day he lost sight in one eye that he finally noticed it. Neat, all lowercase letters, spelling something out at the back of his skull. From the inside!

The indignity of it all! He wondered if his soulmate was going to have to lose one of their eye lights to be able to see it too, or if they wouldn't and would simply never know. Would they believe Sans that they were meant to be together?

It was anxiety inducing to imagine that they would not. Though, there was a solid hint that perhaps it wasn't going to be as complicated as he had initially expected it to be. The word written on him was 'papyrus'. Just... 'papyrus’.

But that wasn't all, no. It was written in the Papyrus font.

So his soulmate was a skeleton!! Sans giggled despite the ache in his eye socket.

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

Hurt/Comfort: (Another angsty drabble, hopefully a little better than the last? TW: incest and complicated relations because of it)

"It's been over a year, Papyrus."

He said it as a fact, not meant to be a deterrent. Papyrus flinched at it though and Sans couldn't bear to continue to watch him. Closing his eyes and turning his head he sighed. He pulled the front door open enough for his brother to walk through.

A moment passed and Sans wondered if he had changed his mind, but the steps soon started quietly padding over the carpet. "i guess sorry isn't enough then."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"i should have left a message or... or just... talked to you."

There was a heaviness between them and Sans ached to pull his brother into a hug, to hold him and kiss his cheekbone...

But that's how they ended up here in the first place. "You had every right to be grossed ou-"

He gasped as he was pulled into a tight hug.

“that wasn’t why i left, i promise.”

Sans didn’t want to move, too afraid of scaring his brother off again. “Ok.”

“i’m serious, it wasn’t that!”

“Ok.” Sans closed his eyes and took in the smell of, what exactly? Campfire? Where had his brother been?

“sans... we had been seen...”

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

UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension):

It was already strange enough to meet another skeleton at work when he'd never met any but his father. The whole ordeal was exasperated by the small skeleton's flirtatious nature.

He was sweet, too sweet. Always smiling and friendly and so damned caring. That could have been excused as coworkers turned friends, but...

The touching.

Shoulders brushing when he'd show Papyrus something on the computer. His hand brushing against Papyrus' back as he passed by.

Once during a team meeting, someone had made a joke they probably shouldn't have. Trying to hide his giggle, Sans had turned away from laughter of the group to rest his cheek on and giggle into Papyrus' shoulder.

His soul soared.

The worst of it when Sans would fix the ever-messy collar of Papyrus' work shirt, fingers brushing his neck and just under his jawbone. Those beautiful fingers, those... incredible hands.

If only Sans knew how wild he made Papyrus feel...

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

Smut:

"Shh, sweetheart, you're doing great."

Papyrus was breathing heavy, squirming as the fingers inside him pressed deeper. He felt himself clench around them, then let out a shaky whimper. It was already so much and he was ready for so much more. Sans bent forward and kissed his summoned tummy.

"i want more sans. nhh pluh... please?" He tried not to sound like he was annoyed with how slowly his lover was trying to take it. He had promised to be okay with 'tender' sex for once.

Usually they were ravenous, but Sans was in a more romantic mood and he wanted to... to, what?

Sans chuckled, his deep voice rumbling between them as he leaned down to flick his tongue over Papyrus' clit. He wanted to tease him!

Papyrus couldn't help himself, grabbing the back of Sans' skull and pressing him closer. Sans was more than willing to oblige with another dark chuckle.

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

-----

---

Here’s a secret if you got this far.... For the rare pair post I made, I’ll be doing this meme for the pairings suggested, posting them in a special rare pair week at the end of June. It’s closed now, because I have enough pairings though. ;) Hope you got yours in!

(Theres only one pairing I skipped I believe, because I had no idea who the AU people are. Sorry to that one person, but I’ll be posting it as the asks you sent me with your story!!)

#swapcest #fontcest #honeyberry #okay so theres a long list of things but this work is NOT FOR KIDS idk what tags we are using these days but there's a little lemon and a li #ttle lime #also some angst thrown in to another #there are a few drabbles here #warnings here are posted with the drabbles themselves #theres also a sadish one that i didn't actually want to post on its own so theres that

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redvelvetreel · 6 years

Text

Red Velvet Reel 4.1: A Crabapple A Day

[Fic Directory]

Pairing: [Married] Spicyhoney (Underfell Papyrus x Underswap Papyrus)

Summary: Stretch and Edge go to their first prenatal appointment- and Red and Blue tag along. Edge is having a really, really bad time and Stretch manages to help him calm down Pancake.

Characters: Edge (Underfell Papyrus) & Stretch (Underswap Papyrus) & Red (Underfell Sans) & Blue (Underswap Sans) & Mentions of Undyne (Underswap Undyne)

Contains: Mpreg/Skelepreg! Insecurities and comfort! Iatrophobia (fear of doctors)! Anxiety manifesting as aggression! Fluff!

Rating: Teen and up! (I guess?)

Note: I was thinking of just putting chapters up the way it is on Ao3 but! The nice thing about having a Tumblr format is I can change it up some lol! So this’ll be more split up~ :’D

“Stretch...” Edge would forever deny he whined, but that is exactly what he did. Stretch might have found it endearing if his patience wasn’t running so thin. “It’s easier to just go along with it,” Stretch said as gently as he could, flipping the page of the magazine on his lap. He only looked up from the colorful ads when he felt a hand on his forearm, trying to look reassuring, “Hang in there, champ.” Edge came the closest to pouting Stretch had ever seen. It was adorable, but Edge shoved his face away as though he heard what he was thinking. After a few moments of very pointed glaring, keeping his hand on Stretch’s face like a particularly obnoxious cat, Edge pulled him close enough to start whispering again. “Why is your brother still here?!” he hissed, eyeing Blue with tangible disdain.

Stretch gave him a flat look, gesturing at Red who was sitting next to Blue. Edge gave and angry huff even as kept a tight grip on his husband’s arm, “I don’t want him here either. I’m not sure what part of ‘Piss off and die’ he misunderstood-“ “Fine, Fine,” Stretch threw the magazine on the table, making a move to stand up, “I’ll send them on their very merry way if it’s really bothering you that much. It’s not like-“ He cut himself off when he Edge kept a stubborn grip on his arm, preventing him from standing up. He sighed irritably, giving his arm a little shake, “What has gotten into you? You want them gone, but you don’t? What do you want?” Edge didn’t seem to like his tone, giving him a reproachful look as he let go of his arm and settled back down like a sulky child. He gripped the arms of the chair hard enough the plastic started to creak, saying so quietly Stretch almost didn’t catch it, “To not be here.” Stretch was beginning to realize that Edge’s restless energy was anxious distress. As much as he tried to pretend it was annoyance, Blue and Red were just convenient targets. “Oh.” Stretch stared at him for a long moment, unsure of what to do. Edge shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms as he jiggled his leg restlessly. “What?! Weren’t you leaving? What the fuck are you-?” Raspberries! In a moment of inspiration, he grabbed Edge by the waist and bodily dragged him onto his lap. “Hey!” Edge elbowed him in the chest, hard, struggling against the arms locked around him. “Ow!” Stretch winced as Edge started to press down on the joints of his fingers, creating a pain that was quickly becoming unbearable. His voice was a low, threatening growl, “Paws off! I will hurt you-“ Red looked up sharply, eyelights disappearing as he barked out, “Knock it off, Pap!” Edge froze, as if confused about where he was, and Stretch took his opportunity. “Pancake,” He wheezed, unclasping his hands to rub at his chest. He left the other resting on Edge’s leg, fingers loose and open. Edge seemed to breathe a little easier, no longer feeling as trapped. “Wanted Pancake. Sorry.” “Don’t-“ Edge let out a shaky breath, gently grabbing his husband’s hand to massage the abused joints. He looked down at the fingers with something akin to misery, voice tight like he was holding back tears, “Don’t apologize! It’s me! ...It’s always me. I almost- I could have- I’m so-“ Stretch pulled Edge into a hug, tucking his face against his chest to give him a little privacy as Edge curled his arms around his neck, tight and desperate. He rubbed soothing circles on his back, concerned and unsure what to do, looking to Red for help. Red looked equally unsettled by the alarmingly open display of vulnerability, shrugging with palpable anxiety. Blue stood up suddenly, stretching his hands above his head, “These chairs are so bad for your spine! Especially shorter ones like ours, huh, Red?” Red looked at him oddly, glancing between him and Stretch several times. “Are you fuckin’ serious right now?!” “Absolutely!” Blue grabbed him by the arm with surprising strength, pulling him off of his chair and dragging him towards the door. He pushed Red into the hallway, shutting the door behind him loudly. Blue’s voice was pleasant but firm, petering out as the walked further away, “Physical health is never a joking matter! We’ve got no-body to disagree with, mweh heh heh! Don’t give me that look- you don’t even have any eyes!” Stretch waited until it had been quiet for a several seconds, running soothing hands down Edge’s back and all along his spine. He pressed a series of kisses along his skull, whispering, “You’re all out of sorts, huh? You feeling ok, darlin’?” “No, I’m too cognizant and alert-” Edge shook his head as an almost incomprehensible torrent of muffled words started to come out, “I’m sorry- I could’ve hurt you- I’m so sorry-“ “Come on now,” Stretch said gently, rocking them both ever so slightly, “It’s my fault too. I should have asked you first. I’m sorry I startled you.” Edge shook his head again, grip becoming tighter as he burrowed his head further into his husband’s chest. “Inexcusable.” Stretch let out an unhappy sigh, changing the subject, “Pancake’s really doing a number on you, huh?” He rubbed Edge’s hip with one hand, stroking down his spine with the other. “As their magic’s developing, they’re throwing yours all out of whack. Mood swings and morning sickness are par the course, but they really suck. I wish I could take them away from you, give them to someone else- like Black. Or that guy next door with the big van he can’t park. Why does he own such a big car if he can’t even drive it?!” Edge didn’t laugh, but he did relax marginally. “And as if all these things weren’t enough, Pancake’s projecting their anxiety onto you too! Baby’s first doctor visit is awful, I know.” Stretch shifted so he had one hand resting on Edge’s ectomagic, gently petting the Souling inside. “It’s ok, baby,” he cooed softly, feeling his husband shift slightly, “I know it’s scary- I don’t like doctors much either. But this Doctor is really good! She’s actually one of my best friends, and she opened her clinic today, on her day off, just so she could meet you! VIP treatment there, Pancake. All she wants to do is check you out, make sure you’re getting everything you need. Gotta make sure you’re gonna be as strong as your Dad, you know?” Edge put his hand on top, intertwining their fingers. Stretch continued earnestly, nuzzling Edge, “Your Dad has to get a checkup because of you too, you know, and you don’t see him fussing. He has even worse experiences with Doctors, and look at how brave he’s being. You’re giving him a bad case of the jitters, so please settle down. I know you can do it, P. I’ll getcha a little sweet something something if you do.” He gave the souling one last pat, letting their joined hands rest on the ectomagic lightly. Edge kept his head on Stretch’s shoulder, eyes closed and looking... maybe not relaxed or content, but certainly less stressed out. “How was that? Pancake settle down?” Edge brought the back of Stretch’s hand to his mouth, planting a loving little kiss and keeping it there as he nodded. Stretch felt his heart swell with warmth, “It was the bribe, wasn’t it? They got a sweet tooth too, huh?” “I think,” Edge started, with obvious affection, “It was all you, actually. Papa is a very calming, reliable presence. It’s hard to be afraid when he’s so supportive and reassuring, and Pancake wants to make you proud. They love you very much.” “Yeah?” Stretch felt giddy, resting his cheek against his husband’s forehead as he looked down at the covered ectomagic in wonder. “How do you know what Pancake’s thinking?” Edge laughed softly, “They tell me, obviously.” “Obviously,” he echoed back. “I’m serious!” Edge picked up on his incredulity, playfully pinching him, “Cravings are their way of saying their missing some nutrient. Fatigue is saying they need more magic and I should slow down. They react to your presence positively, which must mean they like having you around. It’s certainly not my doing.“ “Really?!” Stretch sat up in excitement, making Edge grudgingly follow suite, “What does that mean ‘positively,’ like- like- they can tell when I’m not around? They miss me? My baby misses me?! Oh! Ohhh~!” Stretch started talking more quickly, “Do they feel happy? Just this feeling contentment like, ‘Yay Papa’s back’? Or is this more of a physical thing, like they… wiggle? Can they wiggle? Oh my god! You would tell me if they could wiggle, right? You wouldn’t keep that a secret- Yeah, course not- oh, like a glow, do they glow-“ Edge’s eyes had turned to regard the door halfway through his questions, looking like he was debating getting back in his original chair or staying where he was.

[Part 1- Here] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

#spicyhoney #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #underswap sans #underfell sans #redvelvetreel #fanfic #skelepreg

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askmicrowaveayem · 7 years

Text

MAYEM: The First Meeting Pt. 2

[Previous]

[Archive] [Cast]

The trio hurried along behind him until they were safely out of the building. Once there all of them looked around and Gaster whistled. “Wow, this place looks really different. No wonder the power is going out, you don’t have the core built.” Gaster looked at where it would, possibly, someday stand.

“What are you using for power right now?”

“Waterwheels,” Gaster said, “Waterfall’s full of them, but they’re old, and they’re failing. I’m trying to convince the Royal Scientist to give me leave to try something with geothermal energy using Hotland’s magma basins, but he’s… not willing to let me try until I have a.. cheaper model.”

He sounded incredibly bitter about this.

“Now. What’s this ‘core’ you keep talking about?”

The more his counterpart talked, the more old memories were flooding back. Man, how far back had they travelled? It wasn’t all the same, of course, but this felt pretty early on when it came to being trapped in the underground.

“Basically what you’re building.” He said and couldn’t help but laugh. “That was one of my first big projects after we got sealed away. Careful though, the prototypes blow up a few times.”

“Well, mine did.” He added.

Gaster resummoned his other blasters, lighting their way better. He was confident they wouldn’t run into anyone out here right now, at least no one who would get too curious, unlike his coworkers. “I don’t suppose you remember what the working design ended up looking like, do you?”

It was strange, being alongside this other Gaster--he was getting more comfortable, thinking that, even if it was such a foreign idea. It was strange, being alongside a Gaster who.. apparently had accomplished something. A lot of things.

“Of course I do.” Gaster said with a grin. “You don’t forget your first big achievement.”

“But-” He added, “-I’m not going to spoonfeed you. If you’re me you’ll figure it out. Figuring these things out for yourself is important.”

There was a pause before he added something more; “Unless you plan to build a time machine to break the barrier. Then I’ll gladly write out every little detail on how to make that work the first time around.”

“I plan to,” Gaster said immediately, sounding fully assured and honest.

Gaster’s steps faltered a little, but he didn’t let himself get left behind or appear anything more than slightly bothered.

“... Guess I’m writing out some notes tonight.”

Gaster couldn’t believe that had worked. He smiled at his counterpart, just a bit. “Glad to hear that. We’ll be coming up to the docks soon. Just ask the boatmen to get you to the Capitol docks. I’ll meet you at Pier 7.”

He dug into his pockets and handed each a few pieces of gold. It would be enough for the payment and tip. Despite the lack of a CORE, this underground was clearly already fairly well put-together and had developed their own methods of making things work, even without vent puzzles or reliable elevators.

“Yeah, yeah.” Gaster grumbled, taking the gold. He didn’t sound too pleased that his other self had roped him into basically handing his blueprints over on a silver platter, but he just didn’t have it in him to let another version of himself go through what he had.

There was no way he’d let this Gaster get trapped into the void if he could help it. Perhaps he would anyway, only time would tell.

It was no matter, he would try regardless.

So his counterpart was clever, successful, and honest.

He sounded like a very nice person. Gaster felt sort of bad for lying, but. Whatever it took. A few lies were a small price to pay.

They reached the docks and Gaster got on one of the boats and went ahead to wait for the others at the meeting place.

...He’d probably have to find something for them to eat and somewhere for them to sleep, huh.

The trio did much the same, using the gold given to them to get from one place to another.

As they travelled Gaster wondered if these monsters had been as devastated by the war as his had. There seemed to be quite a lot of monsters despite how early on it might have been. A large part of him hoped they hadn’t fought or resisted as long as his timeline had. So many would still be alive if they had just caved in and let them be sealed with minimal bloodshed.

Heh. Caved.

That would have been a good one to tell Sans, but he decided it was best to keep all their mouths shut. Usually the timelines they jumped into weren’t quite this… drastically different.

Eventually they stepped off and met up with the other Gaster.

Gaster had no idea of the terrible pun his counterpart had made, but he’d heard it, he would have appreciated it.

It was a bit brighter at the docks than it had been outside the labs at Hotland. There were more glow crystals about, with fires and shop windows lighting up the cobblestones. He’d long dismissed his blaster. Once he spotted the trio, he waved them over and began walking through the streets as someone who knew them very well, ducking in through an alley or two. Within ten minutes, they were at a small apartment block. He led them inside and upstairs.

“Mind the tripwire,” he said, stepping over it. “My neighbor tries to be funny. Don’t ruin it for him.”

He opened the door to his apartment and ushered them all inside.

...yeah, he probably should have cleaned more. His main room was about as beautifully, terribly bare as it usually was, with his main decorations being the table, couch, and swarms of papers and spare electronics covering every surface.

...he wondered if he’d owned chairs in the last five years.

He’d figure something out.

They all followed him mostly silently, the only one ever opening their mouth to speak being Papyrus. He would comment on things he saw as they walked and either Sans or Gaster would elaborate a little or give him a little ‘that’s cool’ or ‘good eye, pap’ before going quiet again.

Each one of them stepped over the tripwire.

“a prankster? i like ‘em already.” Sans grinned.

As they stepped inside each one looked around, none of them looking surprised.

“... DEFINITELY YOUR ROOM.” Papyrus said, looking down at his father, who smiled and shrugged. The tall skeleton turned to look at the other Gaster. “IT TOOK ME A MONTH JUST TO CONVINCE HIM TO BUY A BED.”

“Sorry, no weird alternates showed up last month to do that,” Gaster said, smiling apologetically. Papyrus seemed nice enough. He really did feel rather bad about not having more to offer them. He’d never really expected any guests, but… he hadn’t been raised to give so little. “I’ll offer you all the couch, though. ...and if you’re hungry, there… are probably takeout menus around here, somewhere…”

Gaster chuckled at the other skeleton’s words.

“THAT’S QUITE ALRIGHT! YOUR HOSPITALITY AFTER WE CRASHED THROUGH YOUR LAB IS MORE THAN ENOUGH.”

Sans was already making his way to the couch, sitting down with a thump. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning back as though he could take a nap right then and there.

“SANS!” Papyrus frowned at how easily his brother was taking advantage of the offer.

“what?” The skeleton smiled and pulled out a handheld device from his lab coat. “i’m doing work, don’t worry.”

The taller of the two groaned, but said nothing more as Sans turned on the odd-looking tablet and started to poke at its surface.

Gaster was now very badly torn. On one hand, hospitality--”Really, it’s no trouble. Make yourself at home,” he said to Papyrus--on the other hand, “...what is that you’ve got there?”

He levitated the papers off his table as he moved and set them in relatively neat stack by the wall, and walked closer to Sans, trying to get a look at the tablet he had.

Sans looked torn for a moment, the white dots of his eyes glancing over to his father, who met them before giving a shrug. “It’s fine.”

Before he could start explaining it though, the other doctor approached. “Got some paper? I can start scribbling all sorts of nonsense down that I’m sure you’ll want.”

This was the weirdest, best day of Gaster’s life, if it was actually going to pay off. The only other door in the house, leading to what would have at one point been a bedroom, opened up and a stack of home-pressed paper flew out. It settled on the newly cleared table, along with a wire holder of pens. “Please.”

“Yeah no shit ‘please’.” Gaster scoffed, but didn’t seem at all mad that he had been roped into writing down some of his work. He took a seat and instantly began scribbling away.

Once Gaster was busy, Sans looked at the… other Gaster. He stared at him only for a second before catching himself and looking back to the device in his hands.

It was so strange to see ‘his dad’ whole again.

“this is what we use to try and find the anomaly, or how far away it is from the timeline we’re currently in.” Sans began, “the anomaly being a… creature that likes to infect other timelines before destroying it.” He explained, however roughly that might have been.

“that’s why we have the machine. originally we built it to get out of the barrier, now we use it to try and track down the anomaly.”

“Sounds like there’s a pretty long story there,” Gaster said, glancing between his counterpart and his… counterpart’s son. He very much wanted to see how the device worked, but considering everything, letting him fiddle with it was obviously not a particularly viable option. The other Gaster was scribbling away, intent on that, but he realized a moment later Papryrus hadn’t said much and… was hopefully not feeling neglected by the conversation.

He looked up at the tall monster. The other two were clearly already situated, but this one was not yet. “...I. Sorry. Can I get you anything?”

Sans couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle. “you have no idea.”

As the other Gaster addressed Papyrus he started to flicker through a series of menus. “OH NO, I’M FINE. I’D… ACTUALLY OFFER TO CLEAN A LITTLE FOR YOU BUT IF YOU’RE ANYTHING LIKE DAD I KNOW YOU’D HATE THAT.” He made a face.

“It’s orderly chaos.” Gaster said from hunched over at the table, as though it was the 10,000th time he had said it. Papyrus rolled his eyes just as his father sat up.

“Wait. Shit, can you read this?” He lifted up the paper, all his words and calculations in a series of symbols like hands, smiley faces, crosses, and stars.

Gaster took a look at the paper and laughed again. “Of course. I’ll have to translate it later, but… yeah. Of course.”

He didn’t quite realize he was smiling like an idiot at the sight of someone else writing wingdings until his face was almost aching with it. Still. He didn’t really want to stop.

“Hallelujah!” Gaster yelled a little louder than he probably wanted to before slapping the paper back down. “I haven’t been able to write this without needing to translate in… forever.” He shook his head, a smile on his face nearly as wide as his twin’s. He mumbled something akin to ‘fuck the latin alphabet’ under his breath.

Papyrus eventually took a seat beside Sans, peering over his shoulder as they both stared at lines of code zooming across its screen. The shorter of the two sighed and handed it over to Papyrus. “you wanna watch it for awhile, bro?”

“SURE.”

He took the device from his brother and watched the code fly across the screen. Even he looked slightly bored by it, as though they had done this hundreds of times before.

“People suck at Wingdings,” Gaster said, “it’s awful. I know exactly what you mean.”

He glanced over at the two brothers, taking note of their rather bored expressions. He wondered how often they’d been doing this, traveling around, stopping this ‘anomaly.’ To get so bored while on the hunt for something they clearly believed to be extremely dangerous… it wasn’t exactly something he envied them for, but. He wondered what it was like. Traveling with their family, having others as close as they were, working together.

Not his lot in life. It wouldn’t be. But still; even though his counterpart was odd and vaguely viscous, it was good to know that somewhere, in another time, there had been… something happy.

…he needed to find something to do. Maybe he still had quilts in the closet he could bring out. Maybe he could just keep watching his counterpart write. He was a bit lost in his head, and he knew that, but it would take effort to pull himself out..

After a little bit of silence with the only sound being Gaster’s scribbling, Papyrus spoke up again. It was probably a bit jarring to hear his loud voice suddenly cut through the quiet. It didn’t appear as though he could really control the volume of his voice, but perhaps that was a common things with skeletons in this world too.

“YOU CAN ASK US ANY QUESTIONS. WE DON’T MIND.”

Papyrus always enjoyed talking to other versions of people he knew in other timelines. Then again he enjoyed talking in general.

Sans had almost fallen asleep already.

Gaster did jump a bit at the sudden noise, but recovered quickly enough. He tried to speak a little more quietly than Papyrus, out of courtesy for Sans, but if Sans could sleep through Papyrus’ speech, maybe he could sleep through about anything. “Thank you. I.. have a lot of questions. ...I’m sure you do too. I’ll answer as best I can.”

He glanced at the other Gaster once more, curious to how much attention they were being paid, before turning back to Papyrus. “So… a family of time travelers?”

“YES!” Papyrus said enthusiastically, apparently that not even enough to stir his brother. “I’M NOT VERY GOOD AT THE TECHNICAL STUFF, BUT-”

“Don’t say that, Pap.” Gaster said sternly, apparently paying enough attention to know when his son was talking down on himself.

Papyrus merely sighed and rolled his eye sockets as much as he was able. “WE WERE SPLIT UP FOR A VERY LONG TIME, SO NOW WE DO EVERYTHING TOGETHER.”

“I see,” Gaster said, nodding. “...how long have you been doing this?”

“MAYBE ABOUT…” Papyrus paused to think. “A YEAR? HAS IT BEEN A YEAR?”

Gaster slowly stopped writing and lifted up his head. “Uhhh… Maybe…? I’m not good with time anymore.”

“Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question to ask about time travel,” Gaster said. “..I’m just. Still having trouble fully believing you, I suppose. I saw you arrive with my own eyes, but that doesn’t always mean anything. And I’m having trouble figuring out a way to test what you’ve been saying. I don’t mean to be rude. But. It is… weird.”

“IT’S ALRIGHT.” Papyrus offered him a smile. “WE KNOW HOW WEIRD IT SOUNDS. NYEH-HEH!”

Gaster grabbed another piece of paper and continued writing. “Didn’t you ask how old I was back there? How long do monsters typically live in this timeline?”

Gaster lit up again. “I did ask that. Um. It depends on the… the type of monster. Usually. Dragons, turtles, eldritch… they… natural lifespan is extremely long. I don’t know of any who’ve died naturally. Others are shorter. Whimsum only a few decades. Moldsmol, et cetera, less. I’ve… just gotten into my third decade. So. Right.”

“It’s kinda similar in some ways. The more common a monster’s race is it seems like the shorter their lifespan, usually because having children will pretty much start the aging process.” Gaster explained, “I’m probably…” He stopped writing and looked up at nothing in particular. “... somewhere around 1,100? 1,200? Maybe?” He shrugged and gave his twin an apologetic shrug. “Time jumping makes things weird.”

He turned and went back to writing. “Although honestly I don’t know how much of me is monster anymore, so who knows if I age at all.”

There was another pause.

“And the boys don’t count against my age, I made them in a lab rather than the usual way.”

Gaster looked stricken at the sound of his twin’s age. Still. He swallowed his shock down and wondered again how many differences were between their worlds.

“...Yeah. I. Should I ask what you mean by ‘how much of you is monster’? And…” he glanced at the boys on the couch. “...I sort of figured that’s how you made them. CS-1?”

“My original body was destroyed when the time machine exploded. That’s why I’m writing all this down. I shouldn’t be alive.” His voice sounded grim at that and even Papyrus’ usual smile faltered a little as he watched the code dance across the device in his hands.

“All that’s left is my soul and… well.” He stopped and held out his arm, letting the ‘flesh’ distort and lose its form before putting it back into place and then shaking his hand a little, as though it made it go numb. “Whatever I’m made of. ‘The void’, which is the area between time and space. Not a very nice place to be, let me tell you.” Gaster laughed bitterly.

“And no, I never gave them code names like that. I called Sans ‘kiddo’ for a really long time. Probably why I fucked up and got attached.” He laughed at himself. “But I’m glad I did. Papyrus has always been Papyrus.”

Gaster absorbed that information, edging away a bit when his twin’s arm began to distort. “...I see.”

He glanced at the notes. “...so those are for the time machine, not the core?”

He wanted to comment on bringing in experiments as children, but… he decided that could wait until Sans was definitely asleep and Papyrus became distracted.

“No they aren’t.” Gaster said with a grin, wiggling the end of his pen towards his twin. “I’ll put a little information about the core but you’re on your own for that for the most part. I know how you feel about it, trust me.”

He returned to writing, his scribbles sometimes almost impossible to decipher, even for wingdings. “You’ll build it, don’t worry. It works… well okay it doesn’t work great at first, but you hammer out the kinks eventually.”

Gaster did not return the grin in the slightest. What had been a pleasant expression since they exited the lab turned hostile. “I don’t have the luxury of being able to hammer out kinks! Or of ‘eventually!’”

He kept his hands under the table, but they still jerked instinctively in several rude gestures.

Gaster didn’t seem the least bit offended by his counterpart’s anger. It was him, after all. He looked up from his writing and stared at himself directly in the face, but his expression was nothing but pleasant. “That reminds me, you said you weren’t the royal scientist. That’s new. Who’s in charge right now?”

Gaster was not at all soothed. If anything, he looked even angrier at how calm his counterpart was.

“Serptrine.” He spat the name. “You don’t get to change the subject that easily. Why won’t you tell me about the core?”

“Because I hate spoonfeeding the solution to someone who I know has the capability to do the work themselves.” Gaster said, still not a lick of anger on his face.

After a moment he inhaled deeply and tapped his pen on the table. “How far have you gotten?”

“It isn’t about if I can, it’s that it needs to be done,” Gaster ground out. Still. He tried to take a deep breath and reign in his anger, standing up. No magic right now. He walked over and picked up one of the many, many stacks of papers along the wall, apparently knowing exactly where things were despite the mess.

He carried them back and dropped them down on the table. “These. Are my designs.”

The designs are varied and covered in notes, all written in the latin alphabet. Some are similar to ones the other Gaster may have gone through in the early stages and later discarded due to issues later discovered once they were being built. Some of those design flaws still existed--they clearly hadn’t had the chance to be discovered yet in a practical run--but each design was more compact and more possible than the last. And each variation had fewer and fewer enthusiastic notes.

Gaster took the designs and held them at arms length, then close again. He glanced over to Sans but apparently didn’t want to wake him up, so instead reached into his chest and pulled out a pair of glasses from… somewhere inside of himself and put them on, bits of tape stuck to the sides to keep them up.

He began to leaf through the designs and couldn’t help but laugh. “Ahhh, watching the excitement die through cliff notes. Beautiful.” He joked, then started to make two piles in front of him as he went through.

Gaster reminded himself that it was very rude to bite guests who were supposedly trying to help you.

He waited patiently as he could, watching his counterpart leaf through his work, before he finally just had to ask, “Well?”

“Shit.” He pointed to one pile. “Promising.” He pointed to the other, then went back to the first.

“I recognize some of these, the problems that come from them really aren’t worth trying to get them working, but the others aren’t bad.” He picked up the ‘promising’ pile. “The main obstacle you’re facing that I didn’t, is cost.”

“Our population wasn’t nearly quite as large as this, so obviously everyone is going to shoot you down and worry about food and housing over power until they’re suddenly left in the dark and then wonder why they never listened to the weird guy.”

Gaster thumbed through them one more time. “Each have their problems. You’ll never get it perfect, probably. I had to mess with the core for decades after I finally finished it just so it didn’t blow the hell up. Oh!”

He grabbed one and held it up. “Cooling. Cooling is a big fucking problem. Keep that in mind.”

“The ‘cost’ excuse is bullshit,” Gaster said, his anger slowly dissipating as he began to get legitimate feedback. “Housing and food have been stable for years. It’s time we didn’ have to live in the dark anymore, or worry about hospitals going out of commission every other day because of faulty lines. It’d save us so much effort in the future if we just got consistent power now.”

He sighed and rolled his head back. “...it took you decades. Fuck. Fuuck. Okay. Cooling. I’ll… figure out something with cooling. Can’t drain waterfall. Snowdin..” he began mumbling to himself.

“Mine still isn’t perfect, but it works.” Gaster shrugged, then watched his twin moan and grumble. Something about it shifted his expression from catty playfulness to something a little more sincere.

“Ice. Ice from Snowdin travels down through Waterfall and into the chamber to cool.” He tapped the center of one of his plans.

Gaster looked at his twin, a little startled, but… very grateful. Just the one hint might’ve saved him weeks of brainstorming and effort.

“Thanks,” he said, and leaned over towards the plan the other Gaster tapped. In the margin, he wrote a quick note to himself in Wingdings. He’d have to revise the plan anyway, so as long as it wasn’t going to be presented as an option, he could write it out in his own way.

“Now I have a question.” Gaster said, looking up at himself. “You didn’t fight in the war, right? So how did it go? It seems like a lot of monsters survived, or… it’s been a long time since then.”

“...it’s been over a thousand years that we know of,” Gaster said. “I was only born in 20XX. Probably. We… there’s a Dark Age right after the war. No writing, no carvings, no books. We’re not sure how long it lasts. So at least a thousand years. We lost. Badly. Most schools skip over the details, that I know of. I… only know what I do because I’ve been digging.”

He glanced over at the other stack of papers by the wall--the ones he’d mostly cleared from the table. It was the only stack of papers to outclass the ones on the Core designs.

“Hm, interesting.” Gaster mumbled, rubbing at his chin for a moment. He glanced over at Sans and Papyrus, one sleeping soundly while the other boredly stared at the tablet in his hand.

He opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it again, then opened it and finally spoke accompanied by his gestures out of habit. “How many humans have fallen down here?”

“Two,” Gaster said. “Or… three. But the first fallen human… doesn’t quite count.”

He looked a little uncomfortable as he said it, perhaps even sad. He’d been alive when the human first fell. He remembered the day they died. He remembered the day Hope was really, truly broken in the Underground.

He glanced up at the boys on the couch as well, before gesturing slightly with his hands, taking a gamble on if his counterpart would see it. Are you alright with talking without them?

At mention of the first human child, the whites of Gaster’s eyes faded out and he suddenly looked very, very angry.

It faded as quickly as it had come upon seeing the other’s gestures. ‘Maybe. Depends on what about. Shoot.’

That--was a very different reaction from what Gaster expected from the mention of the First Child.

Whatever that face was about, he said, but. Actually. About the clone experiments.

Gaster didn’t answer right away. He inhaled deeply and started to sign something but his hands started to shake too much and he took a moment to lean back and rub at his face. After a second attempt he finally managed to do it. At least signing was easier than talking for him.

‘The first child is the anomaly. I don’t know what timeline they came from, but they infest the others like a virus as you’ve been told. I fought them for a very long time in the void to try and stop them and it got me no-’ He stopped for a moment and changed his wording, ‘-it got me my boys back eventually, but they’re still alive. Or as alive as you can be as a soulless piece of…’

The doctor let his gestures pitter out and took another deep breath before addressing his twin’s other question. ‘Anyway, what about them?’

Not Chara, Gaster said, startled. That. That was not--not impossible, if time travel and alternate universes, but. Fuck. ...I… the experiments. You made them your sons?

Gaster was more than happy to drop the subject of Chara and move onto something much more light-hearted. ‘Not originally, but yes. Sans was intended to be a weapon strong enough to break the barrier. Papyrus was made later, as a…’ He paused, ‘well, as something to make slight amends with what I did to Sans.’

Gaster planned to say something scathing about how someone as smart as him could’ve thought a single monster had any hope of breaking the barrier single-handed, especially one as fragile as CS-1--if their universes were at least consistent on that front--but the last sentence halted him. ...Make amends with ‘what you did?’

‘I nearly killed him.’ Gaster said, taking another glance over at his boys. Even Papyrus was beginning to get sleepy from staring at the screen for so long.

‘I overloaded him. I kept pushing to see if I could match or surpass the strength of a human. It didn’t work. He nearly melted into nothing. I reversed what I could, but since then he’s always been pretty unstable.’

So the instability only began after various experiments? Gaster knew he was probably sounding a little too casual about that, but clearly things had worked out okay, so it was probably fine? I’m assuming you used DT?

‘Yeah. I wanted to give it gradually over the years in the hope that he would build a tolerance. Maybe he has over your average monster, but I’m not willing to test that now.’ Gaster said, apparently unoffended that they were discussing his sons like experiments. They were, at one point, so why not? It was science. And he loved sharing his science.

He nodded at mention of DT. ‘Papyrus has it too, but just the right amount. He’s about as strong as I could make without things getting dangerous for his health.’

Gaster relaxed again upon seeing the other wasn’t offended. You didn’t test on other monsters for it? And has there been any progress in stabilizing your Sans since the overload, or once it happened, was there simply no going back?

‘Wasn’t allowed to. That was my original plan, but the King was pretty against that idea. So I made my own.’ Gaster sounded proud at that even though his gestures somehow.

‘More or less. He’ll always have issues. It gave him nightmares and sometimes he gets sick. I tried to draw it out of him more and more but... ‘ He inhaled, ‘Sans was done with being experimented on by that point and I didn’t have the heart to keep trying when he clearly didn’t want it.’

Gaster nodded, That makes sense.

He paused another moment to consider his next question. ...how, exactly, did you go about trying to draw the DT out and know when we was reaching a more stable level?

With the careful way his hands made those gestures, it was very difficult to misunderstand, and clearly the question had some sort of immediate relevance.

‘I somehow reversed the machine I was using to give it to him.’ Gaster kept himself from laughing bitterly at that. ‘I say ‘somehow’ because I was in a complete fucking panic and did it without even thinking. I probably couldn’t recreate it, unfortunately.’

‘I figured he was stable when he wasn’t oozing all over the table of blowing half the lab to splinters.’

Gaster thinned his mouth, but nodded and accepted that answer all the same. I see. Thank you. I can’t use much of that, but it is definitely good to know.

He glanced back over at the two on the couch, making sure again that they weren’t being disturbed or paying attention to the conversation. It was rude to talk while the person was listening.

Gaster did the same, glancing over to both of the skeletons slumped on the couch. Sans had since slid down, his cheek squished against his brother’s gangly arm as he slept. When the doctor turned back around he gave his twin a serious look.

‘Be good to your Sans. He’s just a kid and he’s probably really scared. At least, I assume so. I know it’s science…’ He rolled his eyes at himself, ‘God do I know it’s science and it’s very tempting, but don’t do dumb shit like I did.’

‘Take care of him.’

He watched his twin carefully, eyes narrowed, and wondered what, exactly had been happening in that lab.

CS-1 is just a prototype, he told the other, intending to be comforting. His survival is my goal. Nothing extreme’s going to be happening to him. He’s just a fragile klutz is why I was asking.

‘CS-1 is just a K-I-D.’ Gaster signed, not intending to be angry but signing out each letter very deliberately. ‘I know telling you this is probably for nothing, because you’re me and I know what I was like, but just…’ He stopped signing for a second and tried to think of what he wanted to say. ‘Fuck I dunno where I was going with this. You get the point.’

Gaster frowned. CS-1 is a prototype, he signed, not spelling out each letter, but giving the word a particular emphasis. He cannot afford to be a kid. He’ll spend his life in a lab; I intend to make it a comfortable life if I can. But that is all I can do. Our situations are clearly very different in this regard.

It maybe came off a bit more formal than he would’ve liked--he really would’ve liked to sound sympathetic, but. Not for this. It just wasn’t in him to lie about that right now.

Gaster sighed and went to sign something, but stopped. ‘They might be. But they might not be.’ He eventually decided to say. ‘I can’t make you do anything, but seeing as I’ve just given you quite a good chunk of my more important notes, at the very least I want you to keep an open mind. Don’t let science blind you.’

‘Don’t be afraid to get attached. It might be the best thing that happens to you.’

Gaster narrowed his eyes. We’re clearly not communicating properly. I’m not interested CS-1’s project. I’ve been trying to ask for a different handler for some time now. I don’t want him to come to any harm. I want him to be comfortable and content. But I don’t have power over what happens to him, and I don’t want any part of his project. Science is not an issue for me in this case. In fact, it’s my motivation to get out. As you can see-- he gestured around the room, at all the stacks of papers, books on the walls, the faint lights of crystals and candles out the window--I have other projects I’m more desperate to work on. The barrier can go fuck itself. It’s the underground I’m concenred about.

‘You have power over him if you’re even the slightest bit involved, but-’ Gaster held up his hands in defeat. ‘-I won’t press.’

A part of this really was like watching a younger version of himself. It was strange and… sort of funny, actually. Of course this Gaster was much more polite than he would have ever been. Even now, after all he had been through and how much he had gotten over those issues, this version of himself was probably ‘better’ in a lot of ways.

Funny. He was still the asshole Gaster. He’d have to get himself a little trophy made when they got back home.

Gaster tried to settle down when the other lifted his hands in defeat. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand he had power over CS-1--that was part of the problem. Having someone living and impressionable dependant on someone like him and his reports was not a good feeling. At least with his machines, he could always repair when he broke them.

This alternate-dimension elder version of himself (and wasn’t that rich?) had… had good points. And good intentions. He just. really, really didn’t want good intentions right now, much less from someone clearly much more experienced and level-headed than he was.

Because right now, he was being a fucking snake.

...right. I’m sorry. We can change subjects. There has been another thing I’ve been wondering a bit, but… it might be a bit personal.

‘Go ahead. If it’s too personal I’ll just tell you to fuck off.’ Gaster smirked.

How did you get those scars?

‘These or these?’ Gaster asked, first pointing to his head and then down to his hands.

Ah well. Couldn’t hit every sore spot in passive-aggressiveness perfectly each time.

They aren’t from the same incident? he said, genuinely surprised. Then, after a moment of hesitation, gestured to the scars on his own forehead as an indication. I just wondered since.. Well. Thirty years worth of scars verses over a thousand’s worth? And still somehow relatively even.

‘Nope.’ Gaster said, clearly not bothered by the question. He pointed to the upper scar, ‘This is when Sans clocked me with one of his blasters after he went unstable.’ He then pointed to the one below his eye. ‘This was when the time machine exploded.’

He then held up both hands, gesturing with each one as he said the names of his sons. ‘Sans.’ ‘Papyrus.’

‘I guess I technically have more unless that’s everything? But my body is long gone. I had a few across my shoulders that were from the war.’

I see. It must have been a lot to bear, Gaster said, at a loss of what else to say. Still, it was odd to think of surviving a thousand years with still the same relative number of visible scars as himself. He didn’t know if that said more about him, or about his counterpart.

The doctor shrugged indifferently. ‘What about you? You didn’t fight in the war and apparently Sans isn’t old enough or powerful enough to be blowing half your face off. Shitty childhood?’

He then added, ‘You can tell me to fuck off.’

Good childhood, he said. Stabbed myself in the face.

He said it with such a straight face, he wondered if his double would believe him.

Without missing a beat Gaster signed; ‘Brutal.’

He didn’t know if his double was telling the truth or not, but it didn’t really matter. If it was true he couldn’t say anything, he had yanked out the palms of his hands for genetic material for clones.

You, Gaster said, grin finally reappearing. I like you.

It was really hard to dislike anyone who could use timing like that.

Seriously, though. I just got into fights in college a lot. One guy got a lucky hit on my face. I gave him a new face piercing. I call it fair.

Though he was starting to wonder if there was just something inherently violent about being a Gaster.

‘I like me too.’ He smirked, knowing that his double would pick up on that little bit of humor.

‘College though, jeeze. I never liked the idea of schools. Sans had to convince me to let him and Papyrus go when they were older.’

At least someone likes us, Gaster said, smirking back.

I was homeschooled until college. Definitely the superior option. I only went for a shot at working in the labs. Didn’t like people without records much. Understandable, but a pain. The kid actually wanted to go to school?

‘Oh yeah.’ Gaster said, looking a little proud. ‘I homeschooled him until Papyrus got old enough to enroll, then he suddenly wanted them both to go. I can see why, I’m a shitty English teacher.’

‘I still kept him back a lot. He’s a brilliant kid, helped me on the original time machine and the one we crashed through your lab in.’

‘Papyrus isn’t dull either, but he’s less technical than Sans and I. Better in other ways.’

Oh, yeah, shit, they want me to teach CS-1 how to speak verbally back at the lab, Gaster said, snorting. I am not qualified to teach anyone anything remotely like that.

He looked up at the two on the couch again as his double spoke. ...yeah. I haven’t seen much of him, but. Papyrus seems like a good kid. ...Kind.

‘I could help a little with that if you want. It would be cool to see another little experiment Sans. I taught him how to talk. He slurs sometimes but…’ Gaster shrugged, ‘like that fucking matters.’

He followed his twin’s gaze at Papyrus just as something beeped on the tablet and he sat upright before poking at the screen a few times.

“Everything good, kiddo?”

“YEAH.” Papyrus said with a yawn. “NOTHING YET. I’M GOING TO SET IT TO THE NEXT STAGE.”

Gaster nodded before turning back to his double. ‘If you’re as connected to a Sans as I am, I bet you’ll get your own Pap eventually. He doesn’t change much over the timelines. He’s always a really sweet kid.’

Oh, please, no, I don’t think I could handle two, Gaster said, thought he meant it in good humor. If you’ll help with the speech, that would be great. I think he’ll probably be excited to have someone else to talk to as well. Though I do have a couple questions about your plan from here on. Are you just going to… be around, waiting for the ‘anomaly’ here? Or trying to fix your machine first?

‘Nah. Usually the machine will only take a few days to go through the data from this timeline and others adjacent. While Papyrus looks over that Sans and I will work on fixing up the machine. Hopefully we don’t find the anomaly anywhere close by and we can just head home without anything fucking up.’

He paused and a happy smile stretched his toothless mouth. ‘This is nice though. You’re the first Gaster I’ve ever come across in all this time. We’re a bit of a rarity.’

Gaster struck a dramatic pose. I feel very special, then.

Gaster stifled a laugh and spelled out ‘W-O-W.’

Gaster got out of his dramatic pose, and peered at his double out of the corner of my eye. Hey. Feel honored to be in my presence. Come on.

‘Fuck that you just make me feel old.’ Gaster grinned.

!! How does that make you feel old??

‘You’re younger than me! I’m not getting shit out of this but a pleasant conversation and getting to stare at a pretty face. You get the cool research and shit.’

I have but one request, Gaster said, turning to his double very seriously, don’t go all mentor-y on me. Please. If you talk down to me I might have to trip you. O-wise-older-me.

‘I promise nothing, but go ahead.’ He said, unable to stop himself from grinning all this time.

Okay, I can work with that, Gaster said, grinning back. He was honestly pretty pleased with himself, getting him...self to grin for such a long time. I really hope your kids weren’t paying much attention to me just now, though. That would be really embarrassing.

‘Nah.’ The doctor shook his head for extra emphasis. ‘If they were Sans would be cracking jokes and Papyrus would be groaning.’

Inherited our sense of humor, then? Gaster didn’t quite mean to say ‘our,’ but he was definitely becoming a bit more comfortable with the idea.

‘Definitely.’ Gaster said, still smiling. ‘Papyrus gets on it too, but he’s tortured by puns, pranks, and scares all the time so he mostly just groans about it.’

Poor kid, Gaster said, shaking his head in mourning.. It’s a rough life.

‘Eh, he’ll live.’ Gaster said, crossing his arms for a moment and shrugging.

The silence was cut short by the sound of Sans abruptly sucking in air and one of his slippers flying across the room to meet the far wall. Both Gaster and Papyrus turned to look at him, his eye glimmering blue and yellow before slowly dying down. He he woken up abruptly and jerked, his slipper carried by the sudden jolt of his leg.

“ARE YOU OKAY?” Papyrus was the first to ask, although none of them looked surprised.

“i… yeah…” Sans mumbled before sitting up and wiping a little sweat from his brow. Gaster stood to fetch his slipper.

“i thought you said there wasn’t a sans yet?” He looked between the other Gaster and Papyrus while rubbing at a certain spot on his ribs.

“HE SAID THERE WAS NO PAPYRUS.”

“... oh. great.” The short skeleton grumbled as he took his slipper from Gaster once it was handed over.

Gasater couldn’t help it. When Sans gave such a sudden jerk, he’d flinched back and ended up a good few feet further from the table than he’d been a moment before. Still, no one seemed too concerned, so he shook off the newly-returned tension easily enough and watched from there.

“...should I know about something?” he asked, once they began to talk about Sans-es and Papyrus-es.

“The nightmares.” Gaster repeated from earlier, but it was Papyrus who decided to elaborate.

“THE CLOSER ANOTHER SANS IS, THE MORE REAL THE DREAM.” He looked down at his brother. “NORMALLY IT DOESN’T MEAN MUCH. MOST SANSES ARE… JUST AS LAZY.” He shot his brother a glance, who grinned up at him all while rubbing at his ribs a little.

“BUT SOMETIMES IT DOES. ARE YOU OKAY?” Papyrus asked again.

“yeah i’m fine. it’s just dreams anyway. did he hurt his ribs or something?” Sans looked over at the other Gaster.

Gaster nodded slowly, returning to where he was sitting before. “...he took a bad fall today. Broke a rib. Keeping him in the medical wing for now. ...you can see his perspective?”

“yeah.” Sans said, his hand finally moving away from his chest now that he knew the cause. “just what recently happened. it’s not like premonitions or anything.”

Gaster finally took off his glasses and put them back away inside himself before taking the device from Papyrus and looking it over.

“He’s another experiment like you guys. Honestly he might have a better Gaster looking out for him than you did.” He laughed.

“how much a step up we talkin’ here?” The skeleton joked with a grin. “‘cause it don’t take much.”

“Well he invited us into his house. Would I have done that?”

There was a mix of ‘no way’ and ‘OF COURSE NOT’S.

“Rude,” Gaster said, shaking his head at his double, as if deeply ashamed. “Way to be fuckin’ rude. Our parents raised us better than this.”

He turned to Sans a moment later, “Honestly, no offense, but at this point, if one of you said you had premonitions about your doppelgangers, I’d probably say, ‘fuck it, why not.’ It isn’t the weirdest thing happening today by a stretch.”

The casual joking was still comforting even to just listen to, but wow, he really hoped it took a bit more than that to be a step-up from his twin.

“Like fuck they did. My mother would have had the toughest warrior shitting their pants with a look alone.” Gaster smirked, “Not that she was mean, but you get the idea.”

“THIS DAY HAS BEEN WEIRD FOR ME TOO! IMAGINE, THE FIRST WORLD WITHOUT A PAPYRUS!” He smiled and looked down at his brother. “THAT MUST MEAN YOUR DOUBLE IS A BABYBONES.”

“uh…” Sans just shrugged, having been unable to determine the height from his dream. It wasn’t too hard to still be a baby and stay the same size as him though, he knew he was pretty vertically challenged compared to the rest of his family.

“...he’s not quite a baby bones,” Gaster said, though… it was sort of a complicated situation. He wondered if most of the other timelines they’d been to had Papyrus with a specific age gap to Sans. If that were true, would he be able to predict when he’d get a Papyrus of his own?

Not that he was getting a Papyrus. Or that people were things you could ‘get.’ But.

That was circular thinking. Nope. Fucking right out of that one. “Either way. Glad you didn’t see anything terrible, it sounds like. ...your… Gaster might be meeting him later. Does that sound like a horrible idea, or just a ridiculous one?”

He was definitely going to take input from these two very seriously when it came to their Dad.

The two brothers looked at one another, then at their father. “WHY? YOU USUALLY HATE INTERACTING WITH THE OTHERS.” Papyrus wondered aloud.

“I told him I could help get him to talk. I taught you two well enough.”

“oh god.” Sans started to laugh, a hand over his face. “but you’re so bad at it.”

“HEY!” Gaster pointed, but apparently didn’t have any defense to that and ended up just narrowing his eye sockets.

“yeah. exactly. i can teach the kid better than you half asleep.”

“YOU’RE ALWAYS HALF ASLEEP.”

“exactly.” Sans grinned wider.

“Still better at it than me,” Gaster said, throwing his arms up and flopping back to lie on the floor a moment later. He gestured to his throat. “Fuck talking. How do people do this all the time.”

Even if Sans or Papyrus offered, he’d still sort of rather have the other Gaster help out. Papyrus’ loud voice might startle CS-1 pretty badly, and… he was just generally uncomfortable with the idea of introducing one former experiment who had gained autonomy to another experiment who was not going to. And who happened to be his replica. Yeah. Maybe not.

“Whatever help I can get is useful.”

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO TALK IF YOU DON’T WANT TO AROUND US. WE CAN UNDERSTAND THE GESTURES WELL ENOUGH.” Papyrus offered.

Gaster seemed to be on the same wavelength as his double, and decided to set up a plan.

“I’ll help him with the kid while Sans fixes the machine and Papyrus monitors the timeline.” He handed the device back. “I’m the one who can teleport in and out, so if anything happens people won’t be able to catch two of us together at the same time.”

Gaster nodded, fully agreeing. “I’m content with that if you all are. For now, though, you two were both almost fully asleep for a while. Call it a night and get some rest and we can worry about other things in the morning?”

“good plan.” Sans smiled and leaned back again, letting his head rest on his brother’s lap, who looked none too happy to be a pillow.

“I SUPPOSE.” Papyrus mumbled as he fought back a yawn. He handed the tablet back to Gaster for him to take over monitoring while he slept.

“hey, uh, dings number two.” Sans said, opening one eye to look over at the twin. “i ain’t got nothin’ but a broken rib to worry about, right?” He said, talking about his double. “no other nightmares i should be worried about?”

Gaster cringed at the nickname. Somehow, it was even worse than ‘Wingding.’ “...please don’t call me that. And no. Unless there’s some residual magical exhaustion or if he has nightmares from his early awakening, that rib should be the only thing troubling him right now.”

“sorry, didn’t mean to upset. but ok. thanks.” Sans said before closing his eyes.

Gaster pulled out what looked like a tech magazine from somewhere inside him just so he could smack Sans over the head with it before putting it back.

“ow.”

His grin never faltered.

Of all the strange things he’d seen that night… yeah, Gaster was just letting the majority of that go. Still, since neither Papyrus nor Sans were looking, he signed to his double What was that for? before getting up and trying to find a place clear enough to at least put down pillows of some sort. He picked up one of his many notebooks while doing so.

‘’Dings was the nickname he used with me before it was ‘dad’. He knows I hate it so he only says it to be a little shit.’ Gaster signed back. ‘I’m surprised it upset you though. Isn’t that your name? Wing Dings Gaster?’

My name is GSTR, he said, and then, G-a-s-t-e-r. Wingdings was a nickname. Because of how I talked. It never left.

It was hard to tell if he was more upset, irritated, or exasperated while signing about the name. Mostly, he seemed tired.

Gaster paused and looked genuinely confused for a moment before signing out a simple ‘huh’.

‘Getting some rest too? I don’t sleep much myself, so I want to be sure.’

I’ll be staying up a bit longer working, he said, trying to not think of a timeline where he’d genuinely been named ‘Wing Dings.’ Want tea?

‘No thanks. I don’t need to eat much anymore either.’ He paused and looked at his boys, both of them already dozing off. ‘I might go poke around the machine unless you want help with something else here.’

Gaster shook his head. The only other thing I have to work on tonight isn’t… very mechanical. Thank you, though. Don’t let anyone see you.

‘I won’t. Besides, if they do, I have other ways of making them think they just saw something weird.’ He turned to leave for a moment and then felt the need to clarify. ‘And by that I mean I just sort of change shape before I teleport out. No darker implications.’

Good, Gaster said, Though I wasn’t going to ask. I was just going to say if someone saw us in a dark corridor, they’d already be seeing something pretty weird.

He smiled as he said it and wished the other Gaster luck again.

#mayem #RP log #undertale #goop #kid #sans #papyrus #the first meeting

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advocatewrites-blog · 6 years

Text

Into the Unknown Part 1 Chapter 2

Into the Unknown

Fandom: Undertale, Coraline (book), Over the Garden Wall, Paranorman, Gravity Falls (season 2)

Characters: Frisk, Norman B., Dipper P., Mabel P., Coraline J., Wirt, Greg, the Cat, the Frog; Sans, Toriel, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore,; the Other Mother, the Beast, Agatha P., Bill Cipher, Asriel D., Chara D.,

Pairings: Not the focus. Alphys/Undyne, with mentions of Papyrus/Mettaton, sans/Toriel/Asgore, and Wirt/Sara. Due to the nature of Undertale and the dating segments, there is also interpretable Papyrus/Wirt, Undyne/Mabel, Alphys/Dipper, Napstablook/Norman, Mettaton/Norman, Mettaton/Mabel, Sans/Dipper, Sans/Norman, and Sans/Greg.

Rated a high +K for violence, mild language, horrific elements that may be disturbing to younger readers, mentions of child abuse and bullying, character death that is sometimes permanent, and mentions of suicide that may be triggering. These elements remain relatively unchanged from their source material, which most all are for children, but discretion is advised nonetheless.

Disclaimer: Undertale was created and owned by Toby Fox. Coraline was created by Neil Gaiman and owned by Bloomsbury and Laika. Over the Garden Wall was created by Patrick McHale and owned by Cartoon Network. Paranorman was created by Sam Fell and Chris Butler and owned by Laika. Gravity Falls was created by Alex Hirsch and owned by Disney. Any other work mentioned or homage are property of their respective owners. This is a fan-made, nonprofit work that only seeks to entertain. Please support the original franchises.

Start from the beginning / Next Chapter

Chapter 2

It took Coraline a moment to realize what lay outside the Ruins as the door closed behind her. The air was thick and cold, and as she stepped forward, her rainboots filled with snow. How did it snow underground?

She would have to go through the Underground alone, she realized, and at some point she would have to face whoever ASGORE was. It was going to be a lot more dangerous here on out. The adventure was over.

She tried to turn her attention to somewhere else.

“When I was a little girl,” Coraline started. “When we lived in our old house, my dad took me for a walk in the wastelands between the houses and shops. It wasn’t the best place to go for a walk, really. There were all these things that people had thrown away back there—old cookers and broken dishes and dolls with no arms and legs. Mom and Dad made me promise not to go exploring back there, because there were so many sharp things, and tetanus and such.”

A branch snapped behind her. Coraline continued anyway.

“But I kept telling them I really wanted to explore it. So my dad pulled on his big brown boots and gloves and put on my boots on me, and we went for a walk. We must have walked for about twenty minutes. We went down the hill, down the bottom of a gully where the stream was, when my dad said ‘Coraline, you have to get out of here. Right now!’ He said it in a tight urgent way, so I did. I ran up to the top of the hill when I heard him thundering behind me. He scooped me up into his arms and swept me over the hill.”

“really? what did he do then?”

Coraline nearly jumped as she heard the voice. Seeing who was addressing her didn’t exactly help. A human skeleton her size, looking at her with empty eye sockets.

“woah. you okay there, kid?” The skeleton asked. “i mean, i can’t say i know what ‘jumping out of your skin’ looks like…”

“You’re a skeleton!” Coraline managed to exclaim.

“and you’re not who I was looking for,” said the skeleton. “the name’s sans. sans the skeleton. you're a human, aren’t ya?”

Coraline watched the skeleton carefully. The human skeleton in any form looked more than a little intimidating on principle, yet curiosity quickly overcame that feeling. He was dressed peculiarly; blue sweatshirt and turtleneck to fight off the cold, yet shorts and slippers to make him comfortable. His mouth was stretched thin in a smile, but it hardly moved as he spoke. A thin layer of sweat formed on his brow, impressive considering he didn’t have any skin cells. He looked harmless enough, Coraline decided.

“I’m Coraline.”

“hilarious,” said sans. “listen, kid, we’re on the lookout for humans right now, so you better—”

“SANS!”

“oh geeze…hey, why don’t hide behind that lamp over there?”

Coraline barely had time to process that there was just a lamp on the outskirts of the forest before she dove behind it. Whoever that voice belong to, it did not sound friendly.

“relax, it’ll be fine, just let me—“

Sans stopped. Coraline heard the sound of snow crunching under boots as someone approached.

“sup bro?” sans asked.

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S SUP BROTHER!” The newcomer said. “IT’S BEEN EIGHT DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T RECALIBRATED YOUR PUZZLES! WHAT DO YOU EVEN DO OUT HERE?”

“look at this lamp,” said sans. “pretty cool, ain’t it?”

“YES, IT IS VERY…SANS, WHAT IS THAT?”

Coraline froze.

“what? it’s just a lamp, isn’t it?”

“SOMETHING WAS MOVING BEHIND THAT LAMP! “ said the newcomer. “SANS, ARE YOU HIDING A HUMAN FROM ME?”

“uh…yeah.”

“GREAT!” The other person cleared their throat before continuing. “ATTENTION, HUMAN! YOU SHALL NOT PASS THIS AREA! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL STOP YOU! I WILL THEN CAPTURE YOU! YOU WILL BE DELIVERED TO THE CAPITAL! AFTER THAT! I’M NOT SURE WHAT HAPPENS! IN ANY CASE, CONTINUE…ONLY IF YOU DARE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

The sounds of crunching snow grew fainter and fainter. Coraline only removed herself once it stopped completely.

“sorry about that,” sans said. “my brother can get a bit excited.”

“He said he was going to kidnap me!” said Coraline.

“relax. my bro won’t hurt anyone,” said sans. “i'll keep an eyesocket out for you.”

“You promise?” Coraline asked.

“cross my heart and hope to die,” said sans. “c’mon kid, if i were lying, you’d see right through me.”

Coraline made a face.

“what? no good? c’mon kid, you gotta work with me. i’ve been working hard to make up some puns. you could say I’ve been working myself…

Frisk woke up in the room in Toriel’s house again. They did not remember spending as much time in her house. Once they had tried to crawl back into bed and sleep everything off, but they were never able to fall asleep with Toriel’s dust on their hands.

But this wasn’t the same Toriel. It was the Other Toriel. It was a whole other world they could start to explore. Maybe this could be the start of a whole other Frisk.

At the thought, they jumped out of bed and raced into the living room. The Other Toriel was in the kitchen again, this time making a breakfast as extravagant as dinner was the night before.

“Good morning my child,” said the Other Toriel. “Did you sleep well?”

Frisk nodded as they grabbed a Spider Donut off the table. It didn’t heal and it was more crunchy than usual, but it was good all the same.

��I was thinking today you might like to explore around the house,” said the other Toriel. “Or maybe you could help your father in the garden.”

Frisk did not know how to sign explore, so they gestured for the first one.

“I thought so,” said the Other Toriel. “Make sure to eat enough, my child. I’ve invited someone special to show you around.”

The second Frisk finished their meal, there was a knock on the door. The other Toriel excused herself for just a minute to let them in. Frisk froze as they saw the white skull and blue hoodie. Their sins crawled along their back.

“hey, relax kid, it’s just me.”

The voice was sans’, but not. It did not have that…thing, that sans’ voice always had even at his scariest. Frisk allowed themselves to look up, and saw two black buttons where eye sockets should be.

“sans has offered to show you around,” said the other Toriel.

“yeah. my bro’s got some cool puzzles he wants to show ya,” said the sans.

It took Frisk a moment to get their heart or soul or whatever to stop racing. It was the other sans. Not that sans. Even if it were that sans, he wasn’t the one they should be afraid of.

Frisk decided to follow the other sans.

ABSOLUTELY NO MOVING

Coraline continued anyway.

“Did somebody move?” A voice asked.

Coraline froze.

A figure popped out from behind the station. It was as much dog as Toriel was goat, with a dog treat dangling out of its mouth. It moved closer to Coraline on hind legs, and looked closely. Its eyes were dull with age, the same way Miss Spink and Miss Forcible’s were, and when it looked, it looked through Coraline.

Doggo blocks the way. Coraline didn’t move.

“Could’ve sworn I saw something move,” said the dog. It grabbed one of the swords off its back and spun it in its hands experimentally.

Coraline didn’t dare to move. Even as the sword glowed a light blue and the dog monster ran it through her.

She didn’t move even as she realized she wasn’t hurt after that. The dog monster removed his gaze from her, and instead looked at his sword.

“Guess it’s just my imagination,” said the dog. “Swear I don’t get paid enough for this…”

It turned, and Coraline found it in herself to move. She reached out for it, barely scratching its thick fur.

“WHAT!” It exclaimed. “I’VE BEEN PET! BY SOMETHING THAT ISN’T MOVING! …I’M GONNA NEED MORE DOG TREATS FOR THIS!”

It scrambled back into the sentry station, and as soon as Coraline knew she was alone, she let herself laugh.

“heya kiddo.”

sans stood in front of her. Coraline knew for a fact he was not there a second ago.

“here’s something important to remember,” said sans. “next time you see someone attack with a blue attack, don’t move and it won’t hurt you.”

“I think I’ve figured that out,” said Coraline.

“oh? Doggo give you a bad time?” sans asked.

“To be honest, I probably gave him a worse time,” said Coraline.

“yeah. Doggo’s great, but his eyes aren’t what they used to be,” said sans. “thinking of getting him a seeing eye dog.”

Coraline laughed at the idea, before realizing sans was serious. Or at least, he was as serious as he usually was.

“Say, why didn’t you try and tell me this before I got to Doggo?” She asked.

“oh?”

Sans looked her way. The lights in his eyes flickered.

“i wanted to see what you would do,” he said.

Coraline didn’t know what to say to that. This time, she really could not tell whether he was joking or not.

“don’t let it get to your head, kid,” said sans. “just think blue stop signs. it’ll come in handy if you ever try to fight my brother. though, uh, let me give you a word of advice about fighting my brother…Don’t.”

Sans left as quickly as he arrived, and Coraline didn’t know what to think.

The division between the other world’s Ruins and the other world’s Snowdin was firm and sudden, as purple floor tiles and flowers divided with snow and puzzle tiles in an even line. Frisk tried not to pay it any mind. It was much like that in the real Underground, anyway.

What Frisk was more curious about were the puzzle tiles. They lay across the snow haphazardly, as if whoever was setting them up had no idea how puzzles were supposed to work. At the center of it stood a skeleton with a bright orange scarf and black button eyes.

“sup bro?”

“YOU KNOW WHAT’S SUP BROTHER! I CAN’T SEEM TO RECALIBRATE THESE PUZZLES PROPERLY.” The other Papyrus’ attention turned to Frisk. “HELLO SMALL HUMAN. PERHAPS YOU HAVE SOME ADVICE ON WHAT TO DO WITH THESE PUZZLES?”

Frisk had not read Advanced Puzzle Construction for Developing Minds, so they shrugged.

“WHAT? YOU DON’T KNOW EITHER?” said the other Papyrus. “THEN WHO IS GOING TO SET UP THESE PUZZLES?”

“don’t sweat it, bro,” The other sans said. “not like we need to set these puzzles for humans anymore.”

“YOU’RE RIGHT! THE HUMAN IS RIGHT HERE!” said the other Papyrus. “AND THERE’S NO REASON TO HOLD THEM AGAINST THEIR WILL. ANYMORE.”

“right. thinking bout taking the kid to Undyne’s for lunch,” said the other sans. “could you get to work on that project we were talking about?”

“OH. YES. THAT THING,” said the other Papyrus. “I WILL GET RIGHT TO WORK ON THAT, WHILE THE HUMAN IS AWAY. WINK.”

The black button eyesocket of the Other Papyrus twitched, as if he were actually trying to wink. He ruffled Frisk’s hair before he ran through the snow in the other direction.

“so, ready to go meet Undyne kid?” the other sans asked.

Frisk made a face. No matter what they did, they never recalled Undyne being friendly with them. At a point where she wouldn’t throw a spear at them, maybe, but never friendly.

“hey, relax kid. this is the Other Undyne,” said the other sans. “she won’t hurt ya if she knows what’s good for her. she was actually looking forward to teaching you how to cook.”

Frisk gave the other sans a curious look.

“what, you didn’t know that?” the other sans asked. “Undyne’s taught my brother nearly everything he knows, even in this world.”

That didn’t exactly comfort Frisk.

“if you want, we can just drop in and play it by ear,” said the other sans. “i imagine you know how to do that better than me.”

Frisk giggled at the pun, and allowed the other sans to lead them.

The trip through the other Snowdin Town was as easy and abrupt as the trip through the Ruins. Before Frisk knew it, they were standing in front of a house from Waterfall that they recognized but never stepped in. Piano music poured from the open windows. Frisk didn’t remember that. sans gave a few raps on the door. It swung open before he could finish the third.

The Undyne that stood in the doorway looked a lot different than what Frisk remembered. Even beyond the button eye, they couldn’t recall ever seeing Undyne outside of her heavy armor.

“Heya punks! Ready for your cooking lesson?” The other Undyne asked, her button eye narrowed down at the child in a way that looked more intimidating than it felt.

“nah. think i’ll sit this one out. kid's raring to go, though,” said the other sans. “is Alphys around?”

“She headed out with Mettaton and his cousin,” said the other Undyne. “They’re trying to find out the perfect scientific strategy to playing Thundersnail so they can play it with the human later.”

For a house that supposedly belonged to Undyne, it was rather cozy. It was well kept, with only a table full of tea pots and cups a sign that it had been used at all. The piano continued to play itself, two mechanical hands reaching around to hit the keys.

“Now then, let’s start with your warrior training!”

It’s the Greater Dog.

Sure, with the suit of armor, the Greater Dog towered over Coraline and was nearly double her width. Without it, however, it was just a dog. Dogs were easy to handle, Coraline realized.

“Come here boy!” She beckoned.

The Greater Dog raced towards her, flicking slobber into her face. Coraline reached down to make a snowball. She tossed it as far as she could. It splattered on the ground. The Greater Dog responded by bringing all of the snow he could catch in his mouth and bringing it to her.

Now dog is tired…the Greater Dog jumped from its armor and rested its head on her. Coraline reached out to pet it. Unlike the other dogs, the Greater Dog relaxed under Coraline’s hand, and sunk its weight into her. It fired a few magic bullets into the air as it flopped on its back.

The Greater Dog is contented. It jumped back to its feet and gave Coraline a long lick across her face before jumping back into its armor. It walked away, its tail sticking out through the headhole.

It took Coraline a minute to stop laughing. As she did, she saw what lay ahead. A small town, visible only through house lights, connected to her with a bridge. Awaiting on the other side were two familiar skeletons.

“BEHOLD, HUMAN!” said Papyrus. “THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!”

A series of traps suddenly surrounded Coraline as the gauntlet activated.

“WHEN I SAY THE WORD,” said Papyrus “IT WILL FULLY ACTIVATE!!! CANNONS WILL FIRE! SPIKES WILL SWING! BLADES WILL SLICE! EACH PART WILL SWING VIOLENTLY UP AND DOWN!”

“What will the dog do?” Coraline asked.

“YOU KNOW?? I’M NOT SURE! !” said Papyrus. “BUT ONLY THE TINIEST CHANCE OF VICTORY WILL REMAIN!! NOW BRACE YOURSELF HUMAN!!! BECAUSE I!”

Coraline looked around wildly for anything she could use to save herself. Even sans looked like he wasn’t sure what to do. Perhaps she could grab onto the other side of the bridge and swing to safety…

“AM! ABOUT!”

But if she did that, she would have to scale the rest of the mountain…

“TO DO IT!”

Nothing happened.

“well?” asked sans. “what’s the holdup?”

“HOLDUP!? WHAT HOLDUP!? I’M…”

Papyrus looked unsure.

“WELL, IT SEEMS THIS CHALLENGE MAY BE TOO EASY TO DEFEAT THE HUMAN WITH,” said Papyrus. “YEAH!!! I AM A SKELETON WITH VERY HIGH STANDARDS, AND MY PUZZLES ARE ALWAYS EXPERTLY COOKED! THIS ONE SIMPLY WON’T DO!”

The Gauntlet of Deadly Terror was removed.

“WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?” Papyrus asked. “ANOTHER DECISIVE VICTORY FOR PAPYRUS! NYEH! HEH! …Heh?”

He was gone before Coraline could ask any more questions.

Undye’s cooking, surprisingly, turned out to be edible. In fact, much like everything Frisk had found in the otherworld, it was the most delicious thing they had ever tasted. What made it even better was that Frisk got to make it themselves. Undyne had been surprisingly patient with teaching them how to cook. Though her method involved throwing a lot of spears, far less things caught on fire than Frisk had anticipated.

The other sans lead them back to the Snowdin area, where the snow had grown so high that the other sans had to pick them up so they wouldn’t sink right through. He helped carry them up one of the taller snow poffs, where the Other Papyrus awaited with his racecar bed.

“SO THE HUMAN ARRIVES,” said the other Papyrus. “ARE YOU READY FOR YOUR TOTALLY COOL TOUR PRESENTED BY YOURS TRULY?”

Frisk jumped in the bed as fast as they could. The bed shook under the added weight, and dipped down the hill.

The wind kicked up around Frisk’s face as the racecar bed cruised down the hillside. The bed jumped into the air after hitting a snow poff, and a sail mechanism sprung up by their feet to keep the bed hovering. They sailed over luminescent flowers and tranquil waters of the Waterfall. They sailed over the lava pools in the Hotlands and the mechanics of the Core. The racecar kept sailing.

Frisk’s interested piqued. They had never seen what lay beyond the hallways connecting Hotlands to New Home. They could make out a few buildings against the backdrop and the golden tiles of the Judgement Hall.

The sled fell, and there was nothing. The world that was began to fade away, as if someone had taken an eraser to a drawing. Gold floor panels faded into yellow flecks, and then into dots on a screen, and then nothing.

And Frisk was alone.

They called for help.

“Hush! And shush! Say nothing, for the Beldam may be listening…”

The fog grew deep. Coraline swallowed hard and fought through it. Even as her vision got covered in white, she could make something out in the distance.

Something blocks the way.

“HUMAN. ALLOW ME TO TELL YOU ABOUT SOME COMPLEX FEELINGS.”

Author’s Note: Fun fact: I actually went through the trouble of marking all of sans’ and Papyrus’ dialogue in their respective fonts. The reason the other sans is weird is because he doesn’t speak in sans’ font. Obviously, it didn’t come through. I’m not even mad; I still hate comic sans with a passion.

#fic #Into the Unknown #Undertale #Coraline #Frisk #Coraline Jones #sans #Papyrus #the Other Mother #featured

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spinach-productions · 7 years

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Baby Spinach, chapter 11

Summary: a family in snapshots.

Wordcount: 3189

Stay tuned for an important announcement at the end of the fic!

The imposter (no name on record) is held in the Royal Guard headquarters in the capital city for a day, then transferred to the Hotland detention center for further processing. He isn’t tried for murder because crimes against humans aren’t part of the monster justice system, but he is convicted on felony child abuse via negligence, cruelty, maltreatment physical injury requiring medical treatment. The proceedings are done quietly to keep attention off of Sans and Papyrus, who would face consequences if knowledge of their human origins became public. The imposter is sentenced to one third lifetime imprisonment which, after some surprisingly difficult research, is impossible to set due to his indeterminate species origin. The court decides on thirty years of incarceration.

“That’s not long enough,” Sans says after Gaster does his best to explain the situation.

“No, it isn’t,” Gaster agrees, “But it’s long enough that you’ll be more than strong enough to defend yourselves by the time he gets out.”

Sans looks at Papyrus, who is sitting in his playpen with a teething ring in his mouth. “And we get to stay here, right?”

“The courts ruled that I have custody of you until you come of age.”

He looks back to Gaster, who gets the distinct feeling he’s being sized up. Sans is still wearing a bandage over one eye socket. The medical reports say he may never fully regain binocular vision. It makes Gaster feel a rare desire for revenge.

“Donahue and Gerald will also be around,” Gaster points out instead of following the thread of vengeance. “And in thirty years, you’ll be an adult, beholden to no one.”

“I guess,” Sans reluctantly agrees. He seems to continue mulling the situation over.

Gaster waits patiently.

“You came for us,” Sans says after another long pause, “I want to stay with you.”

Papyrus makes a pleased humming noise from his pen.

“That’s good,” Gaster says, “Because I’d like it very much if you stayed.”

Gerald helps remodel Gaster’s rooms. It takes a few days (and several arguments over unassembled furniture instructions), but by the end of the week he’s transformed his office into a working-space-slash-bedroom. His old bedroom becomes a safe place for two skeleton children to grow up, complete with a bed and a crib (ready to be upgraded to a second bed as Papyrus grows), a desk, shelves for Sans’ rotating collection of library books, and a closet filled with clothes.

Sans, holding Papyrus in his arms, wanders in as Gaster finishes hanging up the last of the clothes. The eyepatch has been removed and Sans reports that he can see almost as well as before the incident, but his right eye socket no longer glows when Sans accesses his magic.

He looks over the various pieces of clothing spread across the bed. “They’re all different,” he says, in a tone that suggests he doesn’t understand the situation.

“It’s so you can wear what you want,” Gaster explains, threading a shirt onto a coat hanger.

“Huh.”

Sans continues to watch him work. After installing two shirts on hangers and moving them into the closet, Gaster gets the impression Sans wants to talk about something, but is apprehensive about asking.

“Was there something you needed?” He asks to save them both some time.

“Yeah, actually. I wanted to ask you something.” Sans bounces Papyrus in his arms to get his attention, then points at Gaster with his free hand. “Hey, Pap, who’s that?”

Papyrus looks at Gaster. He breaks out into a wide smile and points at him. “Da!”

Gaster, who has a children’s-sized shirt in one hand and a coat hanger in the other, is completely taken aback by this development.

“Doctor Snowdrake and I talked about what happened,” Sans says, as though his baby brother isn’t giggling over Gaster’s reaction to abruptly becoming a father, “And I think it’s best if Papyrus doesn’t know about our dad until he’s older. Maybe until he’s grown up, even.” He shoves his free hand into his pocket. “So that means he needs a new dad.”

Sans clears his throat.

“And I figured hey, we’re already living with an adult who cares about what we want and treats us with respect. That’s like a dad, right?”

Gaster sets down the shirt and the coat hanger and crosses the room. He kneels down on the carpet so he’s closer to Sans’ height, and puts one hand on each child’s shoulder. And he smiles.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” he agrees. “Does that make you my sons?”

Sans considers this for a moment. Papyrus reaches out and pats Gaster’s face with a grin. “Yeah,” he says, sounding more than a little choked up, “I guess it does.”

Gaster holds out a formal hand. “Hello then, sons.”

Sans takes it and shakes. The formality is ruined by how wide he’s smiling. “Hey there, dad.”

“Dah,” Papyrus agrees.

After the secret underground lab is cleared out and the children’s meager possessions are returned, Sans lends Gaster his books on child development. He supplements them with materials on child-rearing from the library. Alphys graciously helps Gaster find resources. Gaster asks after his well being, and they end up talking about the ordeal over lunch in Alphys’ office.

Alphys privately shares that Aubrey is staying with her mother for the time being. “I can’t blame her,” he confides over coffee, “After what that man did while wearing my face, it’s no wonder she doesn’t want to be around me right now.”

Gaster warms his hands on the coffee mug. He’s had so much coffee over the past month, he’s begun to develop an unfortunate liking of it.

“D-did you get custody of Sans and Papyrus,” Alphys asks.

“I did. I also seem to have earned the ‘dad’ title.”

“That’s wonderful! Congratulations, D-doctor.”

“Please,” Gaster says, “After everything that’s happened, ‘doctor’ seems to formal. Call me Gaster.”

“Then I’ll have to ask you to call me Hector,” Alphys says with a smile.

They let the conversation dwindle, sitting in comfortable silence.

“How are they d-doing?” Alphys asks.

It’s a complicated question. Gaster chooses his words carefully. “Doctor Snowdrake is meeting with Sans once a week. She believes any trauma will emerge in time.”

Alphys nods as he digests this. “Would she happen to have any recommendations for child therapists in Hotland?”

“I’ll be sure to ask her.”

The quiet resumes. It’s less comfortable now.

This time, Gaster is the one to break it. “This isn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know that,” Alphys says, speaking into his mug.

“There is nothing you could have done.”

“I could have d-done something,” Alphys says quietly. “I should have d-done something.”

“What could you have done?”

“Something. Anything! Anything that would have kept my baby girl away from that man.”

Gaster, who now understands the weight of caring for children, takes the mug from Alphys’ trembling hands. “Hector,” he says gently, “When was the last time you spoke with your wife?”

“I d-don’t know, a few weeks ago.” He wrings he hands. “I haven’t been able to face her.”

“Have you spoken with anyone about this?”

Alphys sighs. “No.”

Gaster catches his hands and holds them still. “Why do you want Aubrey to see a therapist?”

Alphys’ hands stop, but he avoids eye contact and clearly wants to continue fidgeting. “So she can talk to someone about what she’s been through.”

“Why wouldn’t you extend yourself the same courtesy?”

Alphys finally looks up. Tears have leaked past the rims of his new glasses. He looks absolutely heart broken. “Because I d-don’t d-deserve it.”

Gaster holds Alphys’ hands with both of his own. “I don’t think you get to decide that.”

They speak quietly about anxiety and being a victim and what people do and don’t deserve. In the end, Alphys agrees to one session with a local therapist specializing in trauma counseling. After the first appointment, he agrees to another. Three months later, he gets milkshakes with Aster and Aubrey for the first time since his abduction. Twenty years later, Aubrey begins work at the Royal Laboratory.

Donahue starts wandering into Gaster's office when she's between shifts at the royal lab. She's donated various coffee blends to Project Ghost Brew, which is what she calls her continuing efforts to educate Gaster on caffinated drinks. The results are mixed, and the other members of the royal guard soon know where to get a free pot of good coffee. Gaster's office becomes an unofficial break-room right around the time Papyrus takes an interest in talking.

He watches each guard with undisguised fascination. Sans says he's taking in different kinds of speech. Gaster doesn't know enough about infants to determine whether that's true or not. Today, Papyrus is sitting on Gaster's lap as he reworks some equations. Two guards, the enormous white dog and a smaller, spotted dog have brewed a pot of half-city roast and set up at the small table set up for exactly this kind of situation, while Sans reads on the couch. He doesn't make contact with the various people who have decided Gaster's office is a good place to spend their breaks, but he also doesn't shy away from them anymore, which Gaster sees as a huge step towards socialization.

“...and then we kicked down the door,” the spotted dog says with a laugh, “And there's the farmer, paintbrush in hand, writing numbers on a snail. He had the nerve to say he was numbering them so he could tell if one ran off!”

“Ran off,” Papyrus repeats.

The huge dog gives a high-pitched bark and wags his tail.

“So I ask if this guys expects me to believe that. He nods like he's come up with the smartest thing anyone's ever heard!” He smacks his leg with a laugh, “I didn't anyone was that dumb, but this guy was dumb as shit.”

“Dumb as shit!” Papyrus chirps.

The dogs choke on their coffee. Sans' eyelights wink out. A wide smile stretches over his face. Gaster notes that he seems to have picked up Donahue's habit of grinning in place of more complicated facial expressions.

“Sorry,” the spotted dog mutters as Sans puts down his book and stalks to Gaster's makeshift office pantry.

Sans returns with an empty coffee can and a marker. He scrawls something, then places the can on the table. It now reads Swear Jar in large, serif-less letters.

“You're kidding,” the dog says.

Sans wordlessly, repeatedly taps the can against the table. His eye sockets are still hollow, and he's still baring his teeth in what could be called an openly hostile grin.

The dog's ears fold back against his head. He digs through his pockets and comes up with two gold pieces that go into the jar.

“Thank you,” Sans says without moving his mouth.

That week, a wave of clean language sweeps throughout the facility. Vending machine profit dips, and Papyrus is seen carrying a small toy owl through the halls.

“You can’t do a simulation because there’s nothing to base it on,” says Sans, age ten.

“I can assure you it is. Calipers, please.”

“It is not,” Sans insists as he hands over the compass, “Determination isn’t like anything else. There’s no way to predict what it will do because we have no idea what it will do.”

“I don’t plan to offer up a definitive prediction, I plan to run the simulation on different variables, thereby showing the range of possibilities,” Gaster replies. He handles the calipers with extreme precision to make sure his irritation with this old argument doesn’t bleed into his measurements.

“How are you going to cover all the possibilities? You’ll have to take them all into account, which isn’t possible.”

“Gentlemen,” Gerald says.

“I plan to choose the most likely candidates and run tests on those, then compile the data and run it all together.”

“Do you have any idea how much work that’s going to be? You’re going to be putting that much time into this hypothetical project when you could be spending it on, I don’t know¸ running actual tests to determine the properties of synethetic determination?”

“You know that it’s too volatile, Sans. There’s no need to take risks like this.”

“Gentlemen,” Gerald interrupts firmly, setting Papyrus, age three and a half, on a clear spot on the workbench.

“What,” Gaster and Sans snap back.

Gerald sets a large children’s book on the table in front of Papyrus. “Show them what you just showed me,” he encourages.

Papyrus squints at the letters. “One…” He says, pointing at the first word of the first sentence, “Day? In the big g—r, reen woods, Fluffy Bunny wan, want…”

“Wanted,” Sans says quietly. He’s drifts along the table so he can read over Papyrus’ shoulder.

“I can do it!” Papyrus insists, pushing Sans hand away from the page. “Wanted to p-play a.” He frowns in concentration for a moment, then his face lights up. “Game! Wanted to play a game!”

“Good job, buddy,” Sans says, affectionately bumping his head against Papyrus’. He meets Gaster’s eye and gives a lazy smile.

Gaster returns the smile. The argument seems so small in comparison to Papyrus’ first successful reading. He sets the calipers and notebook to the side to watch the boys sound out the words on the next page.

Gerald also watches. He looks equally fond. He’s an excellent arbitrator and, Gaster supposes, part of this family.

Despite the doomsday predictions levied by the computer-based departments, the year 2000 passes without any major technological breakdown. The big change doesn't come until September, when Papyrus starts kindergarten.

“Got your lunch?” Sans asks.

“Yes.”

“Books?” Gaster asks.

“Yes,” Papyrus says, watching the other children file past the gate into the school.

“Card with all the phone numbers written down?” Sans asks. He once attempted a few days of school, but found that the noise and commotion made him nervous. Combined with the fact that he can already teach most university-level science courses, Doctor Snowdrake had decided homeschooling would be the best for Sans.

Papyrus, on the other hand, has been looking forward to this day since he saw an after-school special on TV a year ago. “Yes, I have everything I could possibly need,” he says, stomping his foot in impatience. “Can I go now?”

“Alright,” Gaster says before Sans can ask more questions. “Have a good first day, Papyrus, we'll be here to pick you up after class.”

Papyrus is already halfway across the parking lot. “Okay, thank you, I love you, bye.”

“Watch the traffic,” Sans calls, “And make sure you're shoes are tied. And—”

“Thank you I love you bye.”

Papyrus joins the crowd of five-year-olds being escorted into the building. Gaster puts a sympathetic hand on Sans' shoulder. “This is hard,” he says.

“I don't like it,” Sans agrees, watching as Papyrus disappears past the gate.

Gaster pats him on the back. “Do you want to work help me organize the lab when we get back?” He offers.

Sans doesn't answer.

“You promised Doctor Snowdrake you'd let him do this by himself,” Gaster reminds him.

“She doesn't have to know,” Sans says, glaring at the school entrance.

Gaster feels something soft unfold in his chest. He smiles and gently pulls Sans away from the school. “Come on, Papyrus will be fine and we have work to do.”

Sans reluctantly allows himself to be steered away.

“Hold still,” Sans says, carefully marking the door frame.

“I'm trying,” Papyrus grumbles. It’s his eighth birthday, and they’re doing the annual Height Measurement ritual. He vibrates impatiently as Sans, age fifteen, finishes. “What's taking so long?”

“I gotta get this right, buddy. Can't make any mistakes at tall.”

Papyrus groans dramatically. “I can’t wait for you to finish this ridiculous pun phase.”

There are two sets of marks on the frame, one in red, the other in blue. The blue marks start out higher, but the red marks have definitely begun to catch up. Sans steps back to evaluate the data.

“It's official.” He taps the most recent mark, which is a fraction of an inch higher up the wall than the corresponding blue one. “You're taller than me.”

“Yes!” Papayrus says, running in place with both hands in the air, “Finally I am the big brother!”

“You sure are,” Sans says, rubbing Papyrus' head, “Now you can carry me around.”

As the years go on, Gaster has to start marking Papyrus' height because Sans is too short. The blue marks approach and finally stop just above four feet, while the red ones continue to shoot upwards towards six feet. Papyrus does start to carry Sans around as their height difference increases. By the time Papyrus reaches his teen years, Gaster has to stand on a step stool to get an accurate measurement.

Papyrus graduates from high school at age eighteen. He wears a blue gown with gold trim (the Capital City East’s colors) and receives his degree from the king himself. King Asgore shakes his hands as he hands him the papers. Papyrus looks star struck.

His entire family is in the audience: Sans and Donahue, holding a sign between them that reads SKELE-BEST; Aubrey, who has started going by her father’s last name and is in the second year of her second master’s degree, has allowed Sans to sit on her shoulders for better height; Gerald, who is waving at least seven pennants in his dozens of hands; and Gaster, sixteen years older and the same physical age as always, waving two flags of his own and using his two backup hands to add to the applause. Everyone is cheering. Papyrus grins widely and holds up his diploma for them to see.

Donahue holds the sign with one hand and uses the other to whistle over the roar of the crowd. She has years of battle scars across her arms, and rose to the position of Captain before retiring several years ago. She elbows Gaster to get his attention. “Hey.”

“Hello,” Gaster says.

She nods up at the stage, where Papyrus is finally going down the exit stairs. “He made it.”

“He did,” Gaster agrees.

The takes their seats as the next students comes on stage and their family takes up the cheering. “Couldn’t have done it without you,” Donahue says.

Gaster watches as Papyrus sits with the rest of his class in the G section. He waving sheepishly at Sans, who is still making thumbs-up gestures his way. “He could have,” Gaster says, “But I’m glad he didn’t have to.”

Doctor W.D. Gaster has two sons, ages eighteen and twenty-five. He likes to say he found them in a bush, but in in truth, he knows they were the ones who found him. Papyrus is planning to take some time to figure out what he wants to do. Sans officially began his employment with the Royal Laboratory several years ago, and has recently been speaking with King Asgore himself about security of the human souls.

Life is different now, but better. Gaster politely claps for the student on stage.

Two years later, the imposter escapes from jail.

And there we have it: the Baby Spinach arc, finished! Thank you so much for reading everyone. I’m going on a short hiatus to nail down details of the last arc and work on some personal projects (I’m in the Mad Max fic exchange, and there are some other idas that have been bouncing around that need to get out). The last arc will begin on May 19th, roughly 7:30pm. Thanks for reading!

- Baby Spinach - Part 11

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#Spinach Productions #Baby Spinach #undertale #undertale fic #undertale fanfiction #undertale Gaster #undertale Sans #undertale Papyrus #baby bones!

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oldscarredlove · 7 years

Text

AfterGone - Part 2/3

Part 1 - http://scarredlove.tumblr.com/post/158033060124/aftergone-part-13 The Origins of AG

Error, Geno > @loverofpiggies Ink > @comyet Fell > (Don’t know)

—CONTINUE— Silence has been the only thing I’ve heard, other than the imaginary voices of the other monsters before they were massacred, so after a few minutes of self-loathing, you could imagine my shock when I heard a glitchy Rip and very real, confused voice ask:

“What’s this place, Error?”

I immediately put up my hood, the electric blue fluff hiding my cracked face, and looked over the edge of the roof, seeing two skeletons leave some sort of void thingy.

“It seems this is another Genocide universe.” The one in front said, his voice seemed to be glitched and sounded annoyed at the other skeleton.

His jacket was black with the hood being dark blue, his shorts were black also with a light-blue strip on the sides and wore dark slippers. His skull was black, his eye-sockets red with blue tear marks and yellow teeth, he had little black and white particles and the word ‘ERROR’ surrounding him.

The second one was shorter, his bones were pearly-white and I could see his expression of confusion. He had a blue cloth tied around his neck, gloves in the same shade of blue and wore silver armour with dark bottoms and heeled boots. When I squinted to see his eyes, I could see they were baby-blue and large, I secretly hoped I won’t have to harm him.

They were such a contrast, black and red against blue and white, in the back of my head I questioned how and why they were here but I was more angry than anything. Well, my home was basically invaded… And I never wanted anyone to see the mess I got myself into…

Look at all these graves,” the error pointed to my handy work, “this obviously didn’t have a friendly human.” I nodded to myself and his statement.

The smaller skeleton stopped in front of Papyrus’ grave and I immediately lost my chill, I jumped off the roof and landed in a crouch, quickly standing up and walking behind their backs preparing to FIGHT.

“It seems this universe had a Papyrus like UnderTale…” The blue skeleton knelt before her grave, his voice carrying a mournful tone. My eye suddenly started to glow as my anger grew, questioning why he felt sorry, if anyone should feel bad it was me.

“I have no idea who you are or where you came from.” They froze and turned to me, eye-sockets widening at the sight of me. “But get out… Before I get really mad.”

The blueberry held up his hands and tried to reason with me. “H-Hey we were only curious to what this place wa-”

The black skeleton sighed in frustration. “Talking isn’t going to help with this situation, Blueberry.” He took out his skeletal hands out of his pockets, this tips of his multi-coloured hands tied up with blue strings. He raised his hand at me and the strings shot forward, aiming at me.

I allowed my right hand to crystallize and shield my skull, ending up having threads wrap around it, I heard gasps of both amazement and fear. “I’ve had ENOUGH.” I sliced the threads and lowered my hand. “Leave, now.”

Error grinned evilly. “I was only looking. You’re a new AU and I wanted to check it out, see what there is to see, ya know, before it ends.” I glanced away for a brief second, I’ve always thought it already had ended.

“Nothing to see here, I’m ‘fraid.” I frowned at his words.

“Oh, I can see that,” his grin widened, “But this is so fascinating. A female Sans and the only one left.” I felt my eye-sockets get larger. How did he know my name? What did he mean by ‘a female Sans’? “There’s a grave for every monster, Papyrus and the human are also included. Did you manage to defeat them?”

“You don’t know anything…” My voice had become a whisper.

“I don’t,” he agreed, “but I want to.”

Far from it but those words never left my mouth, I was incapable of talking, when the blueberry frowned and took a step toward me, that seemed to jolt me back to life.

“What are you doing?”

“Trust me, I got this Error!” He attempted to smile at me, possibly to make me relax and open around him, but I made sure to keep any information of my world away from him. “H-Hi, my name’s UnderSwap Sans but everyone calls me Blueberry. What’s yours?”

What a stupid question, especially since that ‘Error’ guy got it. “It’s Sans…” He then asked me to show my face, I didn’t feel comfortable with doing so and he understood which was nice. The black skeleton scowled and looked over the ocean of sticks and stones.

Blueberry then offered me to come to the ‘Omega Timeline’, apparently it was full of Sanses and Papyruses, all of which either came from different alternate universes. I declined instantly, after what I’ve done? I don’t deserve it… But then again, this was the first time in a long while that I’ve spoken to someone, someone that actually existed.

As I turned away from the odd duo, I shoved my hands into my pockets and started to head in, until a broken voice questioned. “You live here alone, right?” “Yeah, what of it?”

“How much have you eaten?” I halted and felt my cheekbones flush, it’s been a few days since I’ve been trying to preserve my resources.

“Oh! That’s right! In the void, we can provide you with plenty to eat and drink! Or at least, those who can actually cook. I, the magnificent Sans, shall make you the best tacos you’ll ever have!”

I hate those two… — As soon as I stepped in, I was flabbergasted by the amount of look-a-likes, some looked evil, some seemed happy and few were a mixture. It was very odd, I’ve forgotten what it was like to be part of a crowd.

The void or Omega Timeline, whatever you wanna call it, doesn’t actually look as blank as you’d think. It looked like just an ordinary house, the main room was a gigantic living area with a kitchen and a dining room next door (which I can guarantee is enormous) with a several few bedrooms in the back.

All the Papyrus almost made me lose my cool, at first all I saw was my sister in different outfits until I blinked and saw all the different men. One Papyrus noticed me come through and thought I’d be funny to throw me a bone, aiming for my soul, I dodged a nanosecond before it hit me and glared at him.

According to Blueberry, he was UnderFell Papyrus, although most called his Edge or something along those lines. I didn’t even want to go near the pair but I did see a few good-lookers there if I do say so myself. I tried not to giggle when one of these said ‘Good-Lookers’ glanced at me, probably feeling my eyes on them.

“The spaghetti is finished!” Those words killed whatever positive feeling I had, all I felt right then was numbness, thinking I’d see a happy sister come out of the odd kitchen. It was a Papyrus that came through wearing a stained apron but I was filled with disappointment when I realized it wasn’t my Papyrus.

I knew my sister was dead, so why did I hope it was?

“Ah! You’re the newest Sans?” I nodded at the hyperactive skeleton. “I’m from UnderTale, come to the table and select whatever dish you want!” His smile and speech was so much like my sister that I had a deep desire to hug him and cry.

Many universes headed toward the kitchen to receive a plate of whatever they felt like. I looked behind me and felt sick all of a sudden, all I could see was a long corridor full of grey doors with words written onto them and having a closer investigation of them I realized these lead to the other AUs that existed.

“Here! Have some of my famous spaghetti!” Turning around, I see UnderTale Papyrus handing me a plate of pasta, steaming and covered in sauce. I sat down on one of the many couches and gazed at the plate, memories flashing before my eyes.

“Sans! I finally learnt how to cook spaghetti!” “I’ve improved! Try it Sans!” A sad smile rose to my mouth, I twirled a fork in the pasta and felt a tear slither down my cheekbone.before taking a bite. — I was back in my AU, the snowy ground cooling off my hot head. I didn’t feel good at all, after having a bit of that pasta, I immediately wanted to be sick so my first thought was to return and spit it all out. After finishing, I got up only to take a few steps and be sick again, I fell onto the ground with my head spinning and my face burning.

Opening my eyes, I thought back to all those AUs, they were all so kind and entertaining, the best company I’ve had in a long time. Even UnderFell was fun. Sitting up, I rested my forehead onto my knee and thought of what to do. I have a new place to go now, somewhere new and joyful… but was I ready? Ready to take that leap back into sanity and life?

I’ve been frozen in time for such a long period of time that I almost forget that nothing is actually changing, expect my body although my state of mind has stayed the same. As I looked back at the grey door now set up next to the door to my old work-space, I sat there in silence, rehearing the cries and yells of those I’d killed… — As I returned to the void a Sans Blueberry introduced me to as Geno Sans, the lone survivor of AfterTale, greeted me with his expression quickly turning to one of shock.

“You’re skull… It’s-”

“Yeah,” I raised my hands up to my shoulders and smiled a genuine smile for the first time in who knows how long, “I know.” I searched around for Blueberry but saw no sign of him, guessing he’d returned back to his own home. I turned back to Geno. “UnderSwap Sans told me of your story…”

He nodded mournfully, he had every right to be upset. “Everyone knows everyone here.”

I couldn’t help but to smirk at that comment, of course we all would, we’re the same people but with altered personalities. I looked up to Geno and said. “We’re very much alike, so from now on… I’d like to be called AfterGone Sans.” —PAUSE—

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kimtanathegeek · 4 years

Text

Two Brothers, Many Paths - Ch 21

These boys are growing up so fast. Have you guys noticed that Papyrus’ vocabulary and grammar has been slowly improving over the past few weeks (or chapters, in our case)? He’s such a smart cinnamon roll! :D

Thank you for reading! :)

—

Undertale copyright Toby Fox

Story and original characters by me, Kimtana

Please do not use without both permission and credit.

Read below, or read it on AO3 here.

First

Sans had run through several more tests of his new magic over the next couple days, his fear diminishing with each successful attempt. The horrific images and feelings no longer rushed into his mind, and he was able to go from place to place quicker each time.

After a few tries of increasing distance, Sans took his haversack and went to the darkened area. He grabbed as many mouseshroom nightlights as he could frantically stuff into his bag and returned to the shelter, ensuring that they now had enough food for the next couple weeks.

He didn’t like leaving Papyrus alone in the shelter, but he wasn’t comfortable taking his brother with him until he was confident that the trips were safe. So he made sure each trip lasted no more than a few minutes so that he could return as soon as possible.

After half a dozen trips, Sans started feeling the fatigue of his magical drain. He was reluctant to take a piece of dried fruit, since he only wanted to use them in case of an emergency. So once he started feeling the weakness affect him, he stopped traveling for the day and rested up in the shelter.

“So, what’s it like,” Sans asked as he rested against the bed on the floor. “When I...you know...go.”

Papyrus was sitting on the floor, playing with his tiny white bones. He jumped up and illustrated with gestures.

“Sas shut eyes like dis. Den, Sas walk, an big blue fiya gobble Sas up. Den Sas gone.”

Sans stared wide-eyed at his brother for a moment before blinking.

“Well, that sounds pleasant,” he gulped.

“Yeah,” Papyrus added as he went back to play with his bones. “Is cool!”

Sans blinked again, giving a false laugh. “Yeah...‘cool’.”

He was so glad he needed his eyes shut to do this new magic. Watching himself get devoured by a large blue flame was anything but ‘cool’ to him.

“Is it the same blue as our bone magic?” he asked curiously, pushing the idea of being set on fire out of his mind.

“No,” Papyrus answered, looking up at him. “Is blue like magic Mommy an Daddy make to make Sas an Pa go floatey.”

Sans furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

His parents knew how to use blue magic—darker blue than the light blue bone magic—which they used to either deaden Sans’ and Papyrus’ weights or to float them up like feathers. Sans had not seen them use it often, except in desperate situations.

Like the time Papyrus almost crawled over a cliff during a family night outing to watch the stars. Their father had made his brother’s soul turn blue, and he watched as Papyrus was lifted up and then pulled towards their father into his arms.

Then there was the time that a fierce storm broke the living room window. Their mother made their souls blue, and both Sans and Papyrus fell onto their stomachs as if their bodies were made of stone. While the boys stayed put, their mother cleaned up the glass. Once it was safe, their souls returned to their natural white color and they were able to move again.

So the magic that transported Sans to different locations was blue? Did that mean that Sans and Papyrus could do the blue magic as well as their light blue bone magic?

Sans held out his left hand at Papyrus, who was too busy playing with his bones to notice. Sans squinted his right eye so that his left eye widened, focusing on his brother’s soul deep within his chest, picturing it becoming blue in his ribcage. He tensed his fingers, gripping the air as if clutching the little skeleton’s tiny soul, and grunted deep in his chest. With great strain coursing through his left arm, holding his breath tightly in his lungs, he raised his hand to lift his brother up off the floor and into the air.

Nothing happened. Papyrus kept playing, unaware of anything that was going on around him. Sans’ arm dropped to his side as he caught his breath.

Guess not....

Sans laid his head back against the bed, looking up at the shelter’s ceiling, thinking things over as he rested, his body still tired.

Tired from having spent his last remaining ounce of magic on his return trip to the shelter a couple hours before.

The joyous expression on Papyrus’ face would not wane.

“Now, you’ve got to make sure you do not let go,” Sans said for the umpteenth time as he paced around the little skeleton.

“Yup,” Papyrus nodded.

“And don’t pull me, I need to concentrate,” he warned, sticking his hands in his pockets, then pulling them out, only to stuff them back in again.

“Yup,” Papyrus answered.

“Don’t pull away, whatever you do,” Sans instructed, sliding his hands up and down the haversack straps around his shoulders nervously.

“Yup,” Papyrus responded.

“And whatever you do,” Sans stressed, halting his pacing to stand in front of his brother. His voice was as shaky as his body. “Don’t panic!”

“Yup,” Papyrus replied.

Sans started pacing again, running his hands over his head, wiping the sweat and fear from his skull. He tried to steady his breathing as his heart raced.

This is wrong, it’s not safe, he could get hurt, what if he ends up like I did, why am I doing this, this is crazy, I shouldn’t be doing this, what was I thinking agreeing to this, we should just stay here—

“Sas!”

Sans froze, snapping out of his thoughts. He looked over at his brother—from the stressing tone in his voice, it wasn’t the first time Papyrus had called out to him just now.

“Sas, s’okay,” his brother said soothingly, smiling at his big brother. “We be okay.”

Sans looked at the confidence in his brother’s eyes and was encouraged. He sighed gratefully and nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll be ok.”

He held out his hand for his brother, and Papyrus grabbed it tightly.

“Ready?”

“Yup!”

“Ok,” Sans said, taking a deep breath. “Here we go....”

Sans shut his eyes, pictured the darkened area, and internally stated his desire to be there with his brother. Gripping Papyrus’ hand as if his life depended on it—which it did—Sans took a step forward. The two skeletons were engulfed with a blast of sharp wind, the loud fwoosh hammering against them.

It was only a fraction of a second, but it felt like years to Sans. He opened his eyes and saw the glowing mushrooms, sparkling gems, and heard the distant running waters of the darkened area. But he didn’t care about any of that right now.

He fell down onto his knees in front of his brother in a panic. He held Papyrus’ skull in his hands as he looked up to inspect any damage.

“Are you ok?!” Sans gasped, eyes darting as they looked for cracks, fractures, or holes. “Are you hurt?!”

Papyrus put his hands over his brother’s, shut his eyes tight, and cried out.

“Dat was so much fun!”

Great relief washed over Sans as he pulled his brother to him, hugging him tightly.

The little skeleton hugged his brother back, finally answering his brother. “Pa okay, Sas, Pa not hurt. Sas did it!”

Sans stood back up on shaky knees, glad that his fears went unfounded. He took a deep, cleansing breath and blew out the last bit of anxiety. They were all right, that’s all that mattered.

“Ok,” Sans said, struggling to steady his voice. “Let’s go explore a little further, see what we can find. And once we get to a new place, I will be able to get back to it again, so I want to cover as much ground as we can before we go back.”

Papyrus nodded, clutching the little bag at his hip preparedly.

They walked forth, hand in hand, towards the particular area Sans had wanted to check out for a while—where the swaying plants were. As they neared, they were exactly what Sans hoped they would be.

Reeds.

A large reedbed stood situated in the middle of a path that ran through a small body of water. The reeds swayed in the gentle breezes as one organism, undulating like the waters it neighbored. Tall and thin, the shoots appeared to wave a welcome to the two skeletons as Sans stood there, smiling.

“This is perfect, Pap,” Sans said, squeezing his brother’s hand gently. “We can use these reeds for tons of stuff. And, if we’re lucky, we will be able to eat some of them.”

He looked down at his brother and noticed that the little skeleton was imitating the swaying motion with his own body. It appeared Papyrus was happy with their new discovery as well.

Sans pulled out the sharp stone from his pocket and wasted no time in cutting down a large number of the reeds. He tied thick bundles of them up with twine and attached them to his haversack. They were quite cumbersome, but Sans didn’t mind, for their benefits outweighed their burden. He didn’t bother digging up their roots, since they still had no way to boil them, so he let them remain in the ground.

They continued on, pushing past the remainder of the tall grasses and ventured deeper into the area.

It was considerably warmer than the snowy valley, and the maze of paths proved to be quite confusing. The darkness was broken only by the bioluminescent mushrooms and lucent gems, but Sans didn’t see a need to create a blue bone to light their way. Water was everywhere, running along most paths and pooling in small ponds. There were many short waterfalls that cascaded down the various walls, spraying them with their fine mist as they walked past them. Their shoes sank into the dark blue hydric soil, their footprints filling up with water with each step. Sans looked back, dismayed that their footprints were easily trackable, but saw no way to prevent it.

Many of the gems were scattered on the ground, loose from their confines in the rocky walls. Sans picked one up, and he and Papyrus marveled at how it lit up in his hand. It wasn’t just reflecting light—it was creating it.

“Look, Pap,” he said, watching the blue light in his brother’s eyes. “It’s just like our magic.”

Figuring they would be useful, the two brothers collected as many as they could find, stuffing them into their bags. They found multiple blue gems that shone with the same blue-white light as skeleton magic, and a few pink gems—which were not as common as the blue ones.

Many of the paths ran alongside steep cliffs, and Sans had to keep Papyrus on his other side for fear of him slipping off into the unknown. Waterways emptied out over these cliffs, creating narrow waterfalls. Sans gulped as he could hear the rushing of the waters as they poured over the side, but no splashing came from below. It was if the entire area was suspended above an enormous bottomless pit. Sans shuddered, hoping that none of the paths gave way under their feet, sending them down into nothingness.

Papyrus was in awe at the snaking paths, thin walkways, and treasure trove of glowing gems to be found. He found the area fascinating, albeit quite humid. His head panned side to side, eyes wide with wonder, not at all like his brother’s cautious, somewhat timid reaction to this new place.

After several hours of exploring paths, backtracking dead ends, and avoiding perilous drops, Sans decided to call it a day. He studied the area they were in so that he could picture it when he needed to transport back here.

In a few short moments, they were back in the snowy valley, right next to their shelter, the wintry chill sending shivers up their spines. It was a drastic change of temperature, and they had acclimated to the warmer climate in the darkened area.

“Woo!” Sans said, rubbing the sides of his upper arms. “That wind sure is bone-chilling!”

Papyrus gave a shaky giggle through chattering teeth.

They entered the shelter, warming up with the heat emanating from the ever-present magical flame. Sans took off his haversack and grabbed their soaked, muddy shoes, bringing them into the fire room. He took handfuls of snow and washed them as best he could, telling himself that they should wash them in the waters of the darkened area next time before coming heading home. Then he set them against the wall to dry.

Papyrus had emptied the lucent gems onto the floor and was lit up in blue and pink hues. He took each one into his hands and scrutinized them, turning them around this way and that. Sans smiled at his curiosity and wonderment over the gems.

Sans, however, was most excited about the reeds. He untied the bundles and sat on the floor, separating the young, edible shoots from the drier, older ones.

He heaved a sigh, remembering when his mother taught him to work with reeds she would collect at the nearby lake. Reminiscing, he felt a pang of sadness as he held them in his hands, tracing their shoots with his fingers. There was never a day that went by that he didn’t miss his mother terribly.

Blinking back tears, he set back to his task. He was mildly frustrated because he realized he wasn’t able to do too much with the reeds because of their tool limitations and his lack of skill. He did, however, know that raw young, green shoots were edible—and a little sweet, too—and that dried reeds could be made into woven items, like baskets—which they desperately needed. But he couldn’t boil them, or make flour from them, couldn’t even make those sugary sweets with them that they liked—he stopped himself from continuing the list, getting far too discouraged with what he couldn’t do, and forgetting what he could do with them.

Sighing, he stripped the leaves off to burn, and tied the older shoots in small bundles with twine at one end. He got up and went into the fire room and hung the bundles up on the warming rack bones so that they would dry out completely. He tossed the leaves and broken, useless pieces into the fire basin and watched as the flames lapped them up. He checked on the pine cones and saw that they would be fully dried out any day now, then went back to the green shoots.

There weren’t too many, and they weren’t the best food, but it was an addition to their already limited diet. And Papyrus might like them, even if they weren’t boiled like the ones they’d eaten in the past had been. He stood them up against the pantry wall and returned to his haversack.

He dumped out the gems, their amusing glow burning away the last bits of frustration he held. Papyrus was right to be in awe—they were fascinating. He’d never seen anything like these before, and he wondered if they were products of monster magic or an incredible part of the natural world. He spent some time going through them, wiping away loose stone and dirt from their edges and shining them with the snow on his pants to enhance their light.

Soon they prepared dinner—Papyrus roasting mushrooms in the fire room and Sans at the prep table tearing up half a reed shoot into smaller pieces and shaping some gem-shaped snow treats for dessert.

Sans was right, Papyrus enjoyed the sweet, crunchy reeds. They went surprisingly well with the mushrooms—Sans figured this made sense since they came from the same habitat. It was a good addition to their food supply, and Sans was happy for that.

They played together after dinner, then got ready for bed. Sans put the gems in the fire room so the light wouldn’t keep them awake as Papyrus smoothed out the fabrics that would cover them. Sans settled into bed, then raised his left hand up to make his blue bones disappear, darkening the room. Papyrus pulled up the fabrics and they settled in for a well-deserved night’s sleep.

Sans hugged his brother, nuzzling the top of his head. He sighed in gratitude that he had not only gotten better enough with his magic that he could forage again, but that his brother was safe after transporting. He hoped Papyrus would never experience the horror he had suffered, and was immensely glad his brother had been spared that pain.

The two brothers drifted off to sleep, too tired and content for dreams or nightmares play out in their minds.

It was distant. The groaning. The shouting. The creaking. It played in the recesses of Sans’ mind.

It got louder. The sounds drifted into his senses like a far-off dream.

The loud crunching sound is what woke both of them up with a start.

The two skeletons nearly jumped out of bed at the terrifying noise. If they hadn’t been in the belly of a mountain, Sans would have thought it was thunder. They sat there, confused and shaking, the sounds of their gasping breaths echoing off the shelter walls.

“Sas?” Papyrus’ whisper was tinged with a scared whine. “Wass dat?”

Before he could answer, they heard muffled shouting.

“Shh!” Sans shushed urgently, though he need not have done. Papyrus was frozen in fear, too afraid to make a sound.

Neither of them moved or breathed. Sans’ ears were straining to decipher more sounds.

Another groaning—what was that?—then more creaking. Silence followed, then another loud crash, startling them again.

Sans turned to his brother. “Papyrus, do not move, do not make a sound, do not leave here. I am going to check it out. Do not come out. If it’s danger, I will come get you, but do not leave without me.” His voice shook, betraying his panic.

Papyrus nodded, tears brimming his eyes.

Sans slipped out of the bed slowly, expecting someone to burst into the shelter at any moment. He crept to the opening, wincing as the sounds continued. Formulating escape plans for him and his brother, he crawled out the opening and dug a small hole in the entrance. Peeking through to make sure no one was outside, he then dug the rest out and cautiously poked out his head.

The sounds were louder, but came from far behind him—near the cavern. He stood up on shaky legs, making sure no one was around, and closed the entrance back up. He inched his way around the shelter, then the boulder, and looked towards the cavern.

His eyes widened as he saw the source of the noise.

The forest near the cavern had thinned out. He could see movement within the trunks, but they were too far away for him to see clearly. There was shouting, but he couldn’t make out any words. Then he heard the groaning sound again—and saw the top of one of the trees leaning. There was an aching, creaking sound as the tree fell, then all was quiet. Suddenly, the loud crash of the tree hitting the ground resonated through the valley.

The monsters were cutting down the trees. They were back out in the valley again.

Sans rushed back into the shelter. He calmly told Papyrus what was going on as he grabbed his jacket. Papyrus relaxed a little until Sans told him he was heading back out again.

“I’m going to watch them, make sure they don’t go any further than the trees. You stay here, get some more sleep, and stay safe. The moment they start heading for the shelter, I will come back here and we’ll escape to the darkened area until it’s safe to come back. But you need to stay here while I watch them. Ok?”

“Kay...,” Papyrus whimpered, fear rising in him at the thought of being caught.

Sans finished shoving on his shoes and went over to the bed and hugged his brother tightly.

“I love you, Papyrus. No matter what happens, we’ll get through this. I won’t let anything bad happen to you, ever.”

“Love you, too,” Papyrus whimpered in Sans’ chest.

Sans went back to the opening, turning to his brother one last time.

“Stay here, stay safe. I’ll be back soon.”

Sans could see his brother nodding in the dimly lit room.

Sans left, sealed the opening, stood up, and, with a step, disappeared.

#undertale #undertale fanfic #undertale fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans and papyrus #sans undertale #papyrus undertale #skelebros #babybones #TBMP #TwoBrothersManyPaths #Two Brothers Many Paths

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