#found and fixed. i did forget to tag whoopsie

[dooxliss]

Could I get one of your famous Ranking of Kings artists for the facial expressions game...Boji 5A please? hehe 🤭

send a character and expression!

i’ve found my calling

[softspiderling]

honest feelings and bad timing - TEASER | t.h. / h.o.

Summary: It’s always been you, Tom and Harrison. A package deal. But sometimes things change.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Harrison Osterfield

Author’s Note: shoutout to @afangirlwashere for spinning this idea around and making me want to read it so bad, I had to write it. This is not going to be polyamorous, btw, I just didn’t want to give too much away.

Warnings: angst, underage drinking

Word Count: 1,5k

C O M I N G  T H I S  F A L L!

2 0 1 3

“What’d you tell your parents?”

Tom tugged the hood over his head before glancing at Harrison. It was nearing nine pm, they just had their last day at school, and even though it was already dark and the street lamps were slowly flickering on it was still considerably warm.

“I told them we were having a good bye party at Cassidy’s place and that their parents were home, you?”

Harrison stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Told them we were hanging out at Y/N’s place. Didn’t your brothers wanted to tag along when you mentioned a party?”

“Obviously,” Tom snorted. “But mum luckily didn’t let them, said ‘Tom deserves this, you two should stay at home’.”

Sometimes Harrison envied how open-minded Nikki was. Even though he didn’t like lying to his mum and step-father, he knew that they wouldn’t have let him leave the house if he had mentioned a party, let alone alcohol. He usually wasn’t one for breaking the rules, but Nikki was right. It was the end of the school year and all three of you had a busy year.

Tom had been filming his film with Saoirse Ronan, you were going to countless auditions and Harrison had just recently been signed by a model agency. On top of that, you had been juggling the school work which you sadly did not get a free pass on just because you were auditioning, because basically every student was doing the same.

“Lucky you,” Harrison muttered Tom grinned at him, fishing his phone out of pockets when they rounded into your street.

“You think she’s already ready?” he asked and Harrison shrugged, glancing at your house that was standing at the end of the street, windows illuminated by the lights from within.

“She said she was.”

THE BRITS

You: I’ll be done by nine, don’t be late!!11!!

Tommy: we’re standing outside ur house. Should we knock?

“Do you think she told her parents about the party?” Harrison wondered and Tom tapped his phone against his chin, thinking as he stared up the window from your bedroom.

“I’m not sure actually. She’s usually honest with her family, so maybe?” he said, glancing at his phone when it vibrated with a new message from you.

You: no, I’ll be right down.

The boys watched as the light from your bedroom turned off and a couple of minutes later, you exited the house.

“Yeah, I will! Love you!” you called before shutting the door behind you and traipsing over to where the boys where standing, a black oversize hoodie hanging over your bare legs.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Harrison asked with a creased forehead and you squinted your eyes at him.

“I just snuck out before my mum could see me and now you’re the one concerned with my choice of clothing?”

“Haz is just saying that we brought hoodies but inevitably one of us is going to have to lend them to you because you’re cold,” Tom piped up and you scoffed.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be inside the whole time and as soon as I’ve downed some shots, I won’t be cold, I promise,” you told them and linked your arms with them. Harrison sighed but let himself be dragged from you.

“I take it you didn’t tell them about the party?”

You gave him a look. “Are you crazy? Of course I didn’t tell them, you know how weird they get when I even show one sign of growing up and drinking underage is definitely that.”

It was three hours later when Tom and Harrison realized you had planned on doing exactly that.

The boys had left you alone to play a few rounds of Mario kart in the basement of Cassidy’s parents’ house while you had stayed upstairs at the main party. As the music upstairs was turned up so high, even drowning out the music from the basement, the boys found their way back upstairs, only to be greeted by a bunch of people dancing drunkenly and you in the middle of it on top of the dining table., crooning to whatever Rita Ora song was playing

Tom was gaping at you while Harrison sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

“For god’s sake.”

“R.I.P. to the girl you used to see. Her days are over, baby she's ooooooveeeeer!” you yelled, your voice cracking. You lifted the WKD Blue bottle that served as your microphone and when you caught sight of your two best friends standing in the doorway, you beamed at them, waving them over.

“Haz! Tommy, come on and sing with me!”

You took a few steps forward and the table tipped over, sending you flying. Lucky for you, Tom dove forward to catch you in his arms while Harrison nearly got a heart attack.

“Whoopsie,” you giggled and looked up at Tom with glassy eyes. “Thanks Tommy,” you said and pressed a kiss on his cheek, your lip gloss smearing on his cheek.

“Alright, it’s time for us to leave,” Harrison announced and grabbed your hoodie that you had taken off during the night.

You pouted while Tom gently put you back on your feet. “You okay to stand, love?” he asked, his eyes full of worry.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, fixing the straps of your dress. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Well, life’s hard darling,” Harrison pointed out as he and Tom pulled the hoodie over your head. You planted your heels in the ground as they dragged you out of the crowded house.

“Bye guys!” you shouted, waving with your hands excessively.

“Bye Y/N!” Cassidy called back, her hands around her mouth. “Text me tomorrow!”

As you stepped out of the house, the cold air did a pretty good job of sobering you up a bit and you leaned quite heavily on Tom, as your surroundings started spinning.

You groaned into Tom’s shoulder. “Can we sit down for a bit?” you asked and he sighed before stopping, letting you fall on your butt. You leaned your forehead on your arms and closed your eyes, while two pairs of hands were rubbing your back comfortingly.

“You wanna tell us what this is about love?” Harrison asked, his annoyed tone from earlier having dissipated at seeing the state you currently were in.

“What do you mean?” you mumbled, voice muffled. “I just had too much WKD. Doesn’t mean there’s a deep meaning behind every stupid thing I do.”

The boys shared a look over your head because it usually meant exactly that. Out of three people in this friendship it was usually you who took care of the boys and scolded them for being stupid and not thinking things through. Even though it was refreshing to not being taken care off once in a while, Tom and Harrison were still concerned for your well-being.

You sighed and looked back up, a frown on your face. “James broke up with me,” you mumbled out, plucking some grass from the dirt before throwing it at your feet.

Harrison pulled a face while Tom furrowed his brows. You had met James at an audition for a film and immediately clicked with him, which neither of the boys understood because they both couldn’t stand the guy. He was way too polished and the way he looked down on BRIT school just because he went to some fancy actors’ school in New York was maddening.

“I know you guys didn’t like him, but I really did,” you said and Tom leaned his head on your shoulder.

“What happened?” he asked and Harrison mirrored his actions.

“Do we need to kick his ass?” the blonde asked and you laughed, causing the boys’ heads on your shoulder to shake with the vibration of your body.

“No, you don’t have to. I’m fine,” you said and they gave you a look. “Okay, I’m fine now. I just wanted to forget for a few hours. Being dumped fucking sucks.”

You then grew quiet and the only thing that could be heard was the music playing at Cassidy’s house. Trickling your fingers down Tom’s arm he was leaning on your knee, you laced your fingers with his before doing the same with Harrison’s. You still felt a little empty inside, but sharing the news with your best friends seemed to have dulled the pain a bit.

“I’m really glad to have you guys, you know,” you said quietly. “Thanks for joining me at my table in the cafeteria two years ago, I never had friends like you two.”

“Of course love,” Harrison hummed, squeezing your hand. “Who else would keep us out of trouble?” Tom joked and nudged your arm with his nose.

“You were the ones keeping me out of trouble tonight,” you threw in and closed your eyes for a bit. The way home was long and it was late, the alcohol still coursing through your veins. You weren’t sure how to get home without your parents hearing you and finding out about your drunken state, but you knew that everything was going to be fine as long as the boys next to had your back.

A/N: I’m sooooo excited for this to come out!! Please let me know what you think of this and share your excitement with me!!!

Bolded means I couldn’t tag you for some reason. If that is the case with your user, please shoot me a message so we can figure out the problem! Message me if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @sunflowercth // @thatphandomchick // @psychicforest // @llamasaurousmaddie // @fandomdarlings // @unfortunateshelby // @skyfall8600  // @yeahimcrying // @spideys-gurl // @one-big-fangirl // @imagine-lovebug // @professionalphangirluniverse // @zabdisamor // @palindrome-teddy // @axa-vega // @btsgot7crackheads // @angelicshinigami // @mrsfortune1306 // @spicy-mango626 // @thorsvotary // @boughs-of-hollie // @magicalturmoil // @overdramaticdepressedteen // @tomhollandismyspiderman // @tomshufflepuff // @trustfundparker // @evelyn120700 // @sincerelygmg // @the-surviving-revolutionist // @darktwistydiamond // @tomspidertingle // @jackiehollanderr // @jsusofsburbia // @nerdyandproudofitsstuff // @marvelislove10 // @chaoticc-loki // @pluckypete // @starlightfound // @lost-in-translating // @chaoticharmonyqueen // @beautifullydisconnected // @parkeret // @strang-ersclub // @afangirlwashere @xidaughterofthemoonix // @screamholland // @laureharrier //

[alemeino-blog]

A Not So Prefect Anniversary

Pairing: Kustard (UF Sans/ UT Sans)

Tags: Romance, Couples bullshit, angst?, Happy ending, also Sans is an a-hole. Still happy and fluffy.

___________________________________________________________

Despite the near impossible weather underground, Sans was almost never surprised by how harsh conditions got in Snowdin. It seemed as if the barrier itself controlled weather with its magic, changing it almost to fit human seasons. Even if no summer existed in the snowy forest or no rain fell in the fiery Hotland. Yet it was always near these dates that the temperature lowered and blizzards grew stronger and more frequent. Nearly no one ever was outside and the town looked more ghostly than the usual warm welcome it held.

But unlike others, who were with family gathered around the fireplace or drinking hot cocoa wrapped in blankets while watching Japanese cartoons or MTT, Sans found himself down in the lab, with his hoodie and a blanket on sitting on his stool looking at the transporter. It was probably the second anniversary of when he and Red had met, and like last time they were planning on spending it at Sans'. Heck Sans had been planning to take the other to Waterfall but the weather decided to mess up with his plans. If Red came that is.

He had already been waiting for more than an hour, the cocoa his brother had prepared already cold from being left untouched on the cool table. A cold breath escaped Sans as he wrapped the blanket closer, glancing up at the ticking clock as it hands pointed at 20 past ten. They had already made plans the week before for what they would do, deciding to spend it at Sans' verse since Red refused to let his softer version stay at his universe anymore than he needed to. Saying how it would only be a pain in the ass for him to have to watch his way laid back boyfriend to make sure he didn't do anything stupid and get himself killed. He was an adult for goodness sake he didn't need Red pampering him as if he were some baby bones. Sure he may be weaker, smaller, and heck way lazier than Red but that didn't mean he couldn't take care of himself.

He sighed, already thinking about how overprotective his boyfriend was and how much he simply cared for his health and happiness. Often times overlooking himself. God how he wanted to be wrapped around those sturdy arms and held close, not needing a fire or blanket because the magic and love radiating was warmer than any fire place. Glancing up at the clock which pointed to half past ten, he wondered what could be taking Red so long. Was there a problem with the machine? Not likely, each made sure both were running two days ago and Sans just checked his. Was Edge screaming at him to go do chores and tasks? Not an option for the edgier version if his brother was trying to make amends with Red and try to fix their relationship. Probably to impress Papyrus with how much of a good monster he was trying to be, at least to Red.

Did Red forget...or.... not care...?

Sans scoffed it off, not believing it for a single bit. The idea itself was crazy, unbelievable, impossible. If Sans knew anything about Red was, he was loyal to those he truly cared for. His devoted loyalt was probably a reason to why he barely trusted anyone, much like why Sans' devotion to keeping promises was why he hated making them. So why, what was taking Red so long? What could be keeping him back for nearly three hours?

Sans shivered again, beginning to feel the outside cold seep in to his lab. He may be a skeleton but heck even he could feel dire temperatures. Laying his chin on his hands, he waited for the door to open up, to see those piercing yet beautiful red eyelights and to bury his nose hole deep into the other's jacket and taking in that welcoming smell of mustard. He felt his eyes droop and forced them awake for he didn't want to fall asleep. He just had to stay up to at least see the other.

**************

Red mentally cursed himself as he ran back home. Not only had he fallen asleep at work but Doggo and his gang decided to be complete dick heads and decided to pester him, which eventually led to Red snapping out and nearly dusting them while escaping from the ones he couldn't damage as easily. On top of that he was on his way down and fogoted the anniversary gift he had gotten Sans so he had to teleport to his room and scavenge for it. Lucky for him his room wasn't nearly as messed up as Sans, but it was still basically a dump. After a whole he managed to find where he had hidden it in case Sans decided to come over and their date happened to take him to his room. Grabbing the passage he glanced at the clock, already late as hell as he teleported back to his lab, not caring if he was dressed nicely or not anymore.

As he got there however he realized the machinery was running low on gasoline so whoopsie number three! 'Fuck can anything go right already?!,' Red bitterly thought as he teleported to Alphys' lab, stealing some of hers and not caring as she yelled curses at him. Not like she could do anything. Even if she got her girlfriend Undyne on it she doubted stealing gasoline was an exuse to kill someone over it.

Red hated having to use that instead of electricity like Sans did. Unlike his alternative Red didn't have the tools at hand to make it electrical, since his dick of a brother never let him get anything and Alphys and him weren't exactly lab partners, reffering back to the recent incident. So he had to stick with gasoline which was rare in the Underground, only Alphys had some that he knew. Often Chillby gave him some or he found a bit at the dump but he had completely forgotten ot refill. With that done Red rushed to grab the package, disposed of the now empty canteen and flipped the switch after typing in the coordinates for Sans' universe.

Getting out he was gonna check at the clock, till his eyes fell upon the figure wrapped in a blanket, asleep on the chair. His soul felt a pinch of guilt and pain as he saw the figure was Sans. He had been waiting for him till is will gave out, till he passed out. Red cursed at himself for not having been more prepared. He looked at the table as he placed the gift there, seeing two cups of cocoa already too cold to call it hot. One was half empty while the other was untouched. He had prepared it all for him, and he was such a horrible boyfriend that due to his messiness he got there too late. God Sans was probably having who knows what sorta ideas due to him. Whatever the case he really hoped it wasn't self blame.

Knowing standing in his own self loathing wasn't going to do much he had to decide whether or not to wake his alternative. As much as he wanted to spend time with him, who knows if the other had had a long day. Not to mention how Red would have to explain to Sans how, because he was a complete idiot, he had to run this way and that yet still got late. What a great boyfriend he was! Looking at Sans' sleeping form, it would probably be best to celebrate their anniversary tomorrow. And from the cold air, he probably knew the weather outside was hell, heck his own universe was going through the same thing, how could he not know. Picking his sleeping boyfriend he teleported them to the other's room, deciding to pick up the present tense following day.

Red was basically sweating, having spent so much magic and energy all at the same time. Heck he may have a bit more stamina but that didn't mean he didn't tire out easily, he was a Sans for goodness sake!

He laid the other down on the bed before kicking off his sneakers and climbing in afterwards. As if on instant he felt Sans cuddle deeper into Red's turtleneck, yet not showing signs of stirring or waking up. 'Needy ass,' thought Red with a chuckle as he rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Sans as he shut his eyes, despite having already over slept at work.

Yes their anniversary didn't go as planned but at least they were together and they were still alive. At least the still had each other and that was all they really needed. Both smiled, especially Sans after he smelled that familiar mustard smell close in around him and felt the embrace in response to his cuddling.

'Just as planned,' thought Sans as he smirked, Red not being able to see as he was buried into the crimson turtleneck.

___________________________________________________________

Hewwo everyone, long time no see. Yeah I got a bit of motivation back in my shitty ass life so I decided to waste it all on this shit! Yep I know it is crappy as fuck but if I don't write me some Kustard than what other reason do I have to live? I know this is shity as fuck and I know I made a shit ton of grammatical errors but ey, my English isn't perfect, ain't my first language either. Anyways do whatever ya want to this, like, reblog, report, hate. Don't know don't care it is nearly 2 in the morning, I'm hungry, tired yet my insomia is acting up. Whatever, this shit will probably be ignored. Anyways, bye.

[fleeting-phantasm-blog]

Trick Question: An Undyne & Papyrus Friendship Fic

(A second version of the post without the gift recipient tagged / my obnoxious yammering--for a cleaner reblogging experience :3c .)

Rating: G, All Ages (occasional language) Characters: Undyne & Papyrus Genre: Friendship, Fluff AO3 Link: Right here~

Summary: Guard Captain Undyne is used to taking new recruits under her fins—so much so, that she’s gotten pretty good at discerning what type of soldier the greenhorns are likely to become even long before they’ve finished basic training! But when Undyne throws her latest student for a loop, he, in turn, throws all of her expectations right out the window. Whoopsy doopsy! (Gift for Tumblr user “battz” as part of the Undertale Dating Sim team’s secret santa exchange :3)

Let me start off by saying I’ve learned two very important things recently: 1. That my never-ending patience actually ends after midnight; and 2. When opened with enough force, my front door can launch a fully-grown monster a distance of about a hundred meters—give or take.

…

Okay, maybe add a third to the list: Skeletons are just as durable as they are persistent.

* * *

If someone wants to join the Royal Guard but feels they need a little extra help preparing for the intense entry process, the Underground has tons of options they can take advantage of if they so choose. We’ve got dojos, cram schools, personal trainers, you name it—each and every one licensed and verified by yours truly.

It used be that the Captain of the Royal Guard never got involved this early on, but I fixed that real quick. The Captain should be personally aware of everything at every stage, and they should be both accessible and approachable in case a problem shows up. Like, if there’s an issue at one of the prep schools, or if recruitment numbers suddenly take a nosedive, then that means something’s gotta change—possibly at a very basic or public level. And who better to kick start that change (or prevent the problem from happening in the first place) than the one who, basically, should be the most public face in the entire Guard.

At least, that’s what I think.

To this end, I’ve personally sat in on junior training exercises and given lectures; I’ve dined with recruits who passed the entrance exams on their very first try, and I’ve shared drinks with those who failed ten times in a row—but, dammit, let’s knock back a few and forget for a bit, ya hear?! I’ve also sat down with dozens of ordinary citizens who, though not shooting for anything like the Royal Guard, were just plain sick of the way their lives were going and wanted to turn things around.

I guess what I’m trying to say with all this is that even though I’ve earned an “official” title that affords me a lot of “official” privileges, I’m not about to turn my nose up to the average Joe. The Captain’s duties should go way beyond the fancy suit of armor, and I’m going to make sure it stays that way long after I’ve passed the position on and become a crotchety old pile of dust.

…That said, though, this is the first time over the course of my entire career that I’ve had the pleasure of working with someone of Papyrus’s—what’s the word—magnitude? This guy had the brass balls to bypass every proper, kingdom-accredited training method and bring his (nonstop) requests for “personal Guard preparation” straight to me. No hesitation. No concern for schedules, socially acceptable phone call hours, or even personal space. Rain or shine, there he was—a bony bundle of enthusiasm.

So when Papyrus unsurprisingly bounced back from his 3AM express trip across my lawn care of my front door, I don’t know if it was more exhaustion, admiration, or an overwhelming sense of concern for his well being that finally made the Captain of the Underground’s Royal Guard throw in the towel.

“Alright,” I said. “If you think you can handle it, I’ll run you through the ropes myself.”

And, covered in the muck of Waterfall, his smile could have powered a city.

* * *

I’d like to say Papyrus showed up bright and early for his first session, but that’d be a lie: He never left. I guess camping out in the yard was way more efficient than walking the short distance to and from Snowdin, and “A future Royal Guardsman has to be as efficient as possible. Right, *~*~*Captain Undyne*~*~*??”

I made my coffee extra strong that morning.

Once our start-time rolled around, I stepped out of my house to find Papyrus ready and waiting—albeit, looking all sorts of goofy with his chest puffed to his chin and his arms firmly glued to his sides.

“You can relax a little,” I told him. “This is off-record. I prefer getting to know people without all the stuffy formalities.”

“Yes, Captain Undyne! Right away!” But of course he didn’t relax until I realized he wanted me to say “at ease,” and when I did, he giggled the whole way out of his special form of attention as if it was the best thing he had heard in his life. Then, blatantly ignoring everything I had just said about formalities, he promptly asked, “Captain Undyne? Permission to inquire as to why you are not wearing your armor if we’re going to be sparring?”

“Uh… granted?”

“Why are you not wearing your armor if we’re going to be sparring?” The dude was seriously raring to go, his weight bouncing slightly from leg to leg like some kind of boxer on a sugar high.  

“Slow your roll, there,” I said with a laugh. “If you wanna pass the entrance exams, then there’s more you gotta worry about than just the physical.” From under the crook of my arm, I pulled out a ratty old folder filled to bursting with a whirlwind of papers. “You see, a good Guardsman not only knows how to fight, but when to fight, why to fight, and even if to fight. The twenty-page written exam makes sure all our candidates are aware of this—along with knowing a bunch of Underground laws and other general information. We’re gonna start with that so we can get it out of the way. Just think of it like… pulling a tooth, or something. Painful but necessary.”

Yet, when I tried to give the documents to Papyrus, he held up a hand and politely refused.

“Oh, I’ve heard tall tales about that dreaded test,” he said. “But I can assure you, Captain Undyne, that you won’t need to waste even a second of your precious time on helping me study. I’m a walking encyclopedia when it comes to the Royal Guard.”

Classic greenhorn confidence. Seen it a million times.

“Really now.” I challenged. “Then how ‘bout I ask you a few questions just to make sure?“

Contained within the folder I brought were all sorts of documents I had saved over the years: copies of Guard reports and case files, a few book scans, lists upon lists of various laws and definitions. It was a great big pile of organized chaos that I not only used as a constant reference but also willingly shared if one of my units was struggling with some of the more… technical aspects of the job. Some of it you could find in textbooks; others you’d have to go digging through the bowels of the courts to snag even a scrap. For a solid fifteen minutes, Papyrus and I went back and forth, with me tossing out what I thought were the most impossible questions I could find in an attempt to catch that rookie’s pluckiness of his off-guard.

“That’s an easy one, Captain Undyne! The Magic Conservation Act was signed into law by our very own King Asgore Dreemurr, in the Year of Our Dog 19XX.”

Okay, good, he got the year right. Most people miss that.

“Anti-Human Directive 10? That depends: Do you mean the original or the amended second edition?”

Wait, there’s a second edition?

“The Research Division? Why, that’s a special squad assigned to escort the Royal Scientist during important, castle-mandated fieldwork.”

Hang on, that’s not even public knowledge. I formed that group last week because I was worried about Alphys!

I slapped the folder shut, stunned. “Well, roll me up in rice and serve me with a side of soy sauce.”

“Did I win?!” Papyrus chimed. “Permission to ask if we can spar now, Captain Undyne?”

Somehow, by the grace of whatever crazy being drives this world, Papyrus answered every single Dogdamn question correctly. I didn’t know if I should shake his hand or file for a restraining order. Still, if he was so eager to jump into the fray, then I needed to be absolutely sure of something—that he knew the most important answer of all.

“Listen,” I said. “The reason you’re doing all this is so you can become a Royal Guard, right? You wanna get a cool suit of armor, make a name for yourself, maybe kick a few humans in the keister?” Papyrus nodded with so much vigor, I thought his skull would fall off. “Then, before you can even think of crossing spears with me, I need you answer one last question.” His nod that time was a bit slower. His expression grew solemn, showing that he understood this was important. “Papyrus, what is a Royal Guard?”

“What is a…” He tilted his head to the side, brows drawing together as he mouthed the question.

“…Royal Guard,” I repeated, assuring him that I did, indeed, ask the question correctly. “The individual, not the group—if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Right. Yes. That’s… what I was wondering. Thank you, Captain Undyne.” Papyrus’s voice trailed off into a mumble. He looked to the cavern walls, tapping the ground with a foot as the two halves of his jaw ground together in thought. There was honestly something deeply satisfying watching him fish for a response after he conquered my Q&A session. Finally, after some intense contemplation, he found one—or, rather, a series of them: “A Royal Guard is… someone employed by the Royal Guard? Wait, no. A Royal Guard is a living extension of our king’s righteous paw! Or, well, I suppose you could say that about a lot of things. A Royal Guard is—I’ve got this, Captain Undyne, I swear—is someone who has passed stringent tests and is officially licensed, under royal decree….”

And so on, and so on.

Once Papyrus realized his twisty little spaghetti strand of answers wasn’t getting him anywhere, he stopped talking and just kinda stared at me. Then, all at once, the confidence he built up over the course of the afternoon deflated from his body.

“I’m sorry, Captain Undyne. I guess I… I don’t know the answer to that.” He slumped over so far his voice was muffled in that weird costume of his. The poor guy probably thought he just ruined everything. I couldn’t help but walk over and give him an encouraging pat on the back.

“Well, that’s no good,” I said. “It’s hard to become something if you don’t even know what it is. Still, you’ve got time to figure it out. Study up, and see if you can find the answer. Once you do, we’ll move on to some actual sparring, okay?”

This time, when I handed him the folder, he actually took it.

* * *

Anytime I train someone, I’m reminded of what Alphys once said: The more you observe something, the more you start to notice patterns in its behavior, which then makes it easier for you to form a hypo- … hippoth- … Basically, you hang around something long enough, you get better at predicting what it’s gonna do.

For folks like Papyrus, experience has told me that I have to be a little careful when working with them. I’ve seen his personality type before: a naïve go-getter filled with all sorts of shiny fairy tale dreams that he hopes to live out if he gets into the Guard—which is fine; I’ve got some pretty faffy dreams myself. It’s just, when it comes to his particular type of personality, I’ve learned over the years that their spirits tend to, well, wilt when the going gets tough. Not always, but often enough. That’s not to say they don’t make excellent soldiers, though. The ones who’ve made it through and come out on top are some of the best damn Guards I’ve had ever had the honor of working with. They have this goodness inherent in them that’s getting more and more difficult to find these days.

Unfortunately, in this line of work, that genuine goodness is also getting more and more difficult to keep. When folks like Papyrus join up and realize what real Royal Guard life is all about—when “niceness” becomes “weakness”, when they’re constantly faced with the worst of society… with all the injustices in the world that don’t have easy answers (if any at all)—then that goodness starts to falter. Give it enough time, it rots into bitterness and then anger, even hatred. I’ve seen it mark the faces of many of our veterans. I’ve even struggled with it myself.

That is exactly why I didn’t want Papyrus to jump in to combat training as quickly as he had been hoping—and, probably, why I didn’t agree to train him right away. The most I knew about him before all this began was what I had heard from his brother, Sans, and even that was enough for me to form a conclusion. That first day of training only solidified it: Papyrus is too good. Too nice. In the most beautiful, wonderful sense, Papyrus absolutely does not belong on a battlefield, and I will be damned before I put him there.

I thought starting with the written portion of the entry exam would give Papyrus a good idea of what we do and how I work before he got a taste of the real serious stuff. My plan was to spend a week or two drilling him with questions, grilling him for every wrong answer, and ensuring he learned his stuff through the only way the Guard knows how to teach it—with no punches pulled. Maybe then he would realize, before he got too invested, that this might not be the life for him. That he could back out with no hard feelings and discover a ton of other options just waiting for someone like him.

Then, his uncanny knowledge of Royal Guard matters both public and highly top secret oh my god flushed that idea. Immediately after Papyrus’s first session, I found myself scrambling for a new plan of action.

I needed to know more. If I could learn more about him, maybe find out some of the things he liked to do, I could sort of… nudge him away from the Guard.

Maybe.

I was never good at subtlety, but it was worth a shot.

So, that week turned from “Let’s Learn About the Royal Guard” to “Let’s Learn About Papyrus Instead”—under the guise of teaching him more about the Guard, of course. One day, I took him for a tour of the castle grounds. The next, I showed him around the barracks. The day after, we grabbed a bite to eat at a popular Royal Guard pub in New Home. The whole time, I took a backseat during our conversations and let Papyrus do what Sans said he does best—talk about himself.

And, wouldn’t you know it, it worked.

“You’ll find that my magic is kind of like yours, Captain Undyne, in that it mostly takes the form of projectiles. You’ll also find that it’s not like yours in that it’s really popular with certain … canine types. I’m not sure why.”

“…So, there they were, trying to gang up on Sans. But then—and this is the best part, Captain Undyne—then came the Great Papyrus! Wham! Bam! Thank you, ma’am! We never saw those troublemakers again.”

“…And that was third time I had to swoop in and prevent a giant brawl. All because he was too lazy to give up his special seat at the bar. Can you believe that, Captain Undyne? Who knows what might’ve happened had the Great Papyrus not been there? Sheesh!”

Outside of his countless tales of personal heroism, (all of which held about as much water as Hotland), a common trend across Papyrus’s discussions was his brother…

“Let me be the first to apologize for Sans’s laziness, Captain Undyne. Once I become a Royal Guard, I swear I’ll work three times as hard to make up for his churning void of inactivity.”

…And that got me thinking. Clearly, Papyrus was the type who loved to do things for others. Sure, he complained when “others” meant “Sans”, but it was obvious he still got a kick out of it beneath all his grumbling. If I could steer him towards something like that… something like cooking… cleaning… some kind of job that allowed him to use his talents for the sake of others… then….

It was towards the end of the week that Papyrus gave me back the folder I loaned him.

“I’m sorry, Captain Undyne,” he said. “I read everything in here front-to-back, but I’m afraid I still couldn’t find the answer to your question. And while these conversations have been incredibly enlightening, they, too, have led me no closer to the truth.”

I chuckled. “Well, it’s not exactly an easy question.”

“To say the least. You’ve posed a real stickler, Captain Undyne. A puzzle capable of japing even me! But, if it means you’ll train me in Royal Guard combat, then the Great Papyrus will never give up.” He flashed a confident smile. “So, I talked to some of the Guards myself to see what they thought.”

As it turns out, during the times we weren’t hanging out, Papyrus was running around asking every damn Guard he could find what they thought it meant to be a Guard, and when he pulled out a list of responses that unfurled all the way to the ground, some teeny tiny part of me might have started to think that maybe there was a better way of doing this.

“Were… any of those the right answer, Captain Undyne?” Papyrus asked, once he had read off each and every one. “Don’t tell me it was ‘Bark’ the whole time. Otherwise, I may have to rethink my opinion of Lesser Dog.”

And although I had suddenly learned more about my own guards in the past hour than I had over years of working with them, all I could do was shrug. Papyrus still didn’t get it.

“P-permission to ask for a hint?” His face was the picture of disappointment.

“Do you get hints in the heat of battle?”

“…Yes?”

I shook my head with a laugh. “Chin up and keep working, Papyrus.”

* * *

That weekend, my routine patrol turned up some disturbing news. Papyrus refused to leave his house.

“Eh, sometime yesterday he started moping around. It got so bad, I actually had to go out and buy our groceries. He’s giving even my laziness a run for its money.” Sans’s signature grin only widened, as if this behavior of his brother’s wasn’t something incredibly worrying. “But I always knew he’d grow into his true calling. He’s kind of a late bloomer.”

With that frightening thought in mind, I marched myself right over Papyrus’s place and pounded on his front door. Once, twice, three times. Yet there was no answer.

“Papyrus?” I called. Still no response. Is he in his room? I rounded the back of the house and peered up. A shadow moved behind the second floor window of Papyrus’s bedroom. Bingo. I balled up a wad of snow in my gloves and tossed as lightly as I could. Sure enough, the hefty thump was loud enough to draw a bony white face to the glass.

“Captain Undyne?” Papyrus opened the window a smidge. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” I said. “What’s going on? Sans says you’re being quite the lazybones.”

“What? That is not true!”

I shrugged. “Well, whatever it is, it’s weird and it worries me, so I’m not leaving until you come out.” He made as if to protest, but I cut him off. “Papyrus, I’m wearing four layers and am fully trained in survival tactics. Also, there’s a general store down the street. I will wait as long I have to.”

He couldn’t win, and I think he knew it. With a sigh that fogged up the glass, Papyrus disappeared from his window. Not a minute later, I heard the front door open, and I met him on the porch. Dude was a mess. I mean, dark circles under his eye sockets, definitely-did-not-sleep kind of mess. The whole thing gave me a prickle of déjà vu.

“You were thinking about that question again, weren’t you?”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Papyrus seemed to fold against the doorframe. “Captain Undyne, should I really be aiming for the Royal Guard, when I, apparently, don’t even know what a Royal Guard is?”

Oh. Oh boy. Here we go.

Well, it was what I wanted, wasn’t it?

But I didn’t think he’d be this upset!

He really put his all toward this, didn’t he?

What was I thinking?

I…

“Follow me,” I said. “Class is taking an emergency field trip.” When Papyrus didn’t budge, I pulled out my trump card. “Captain’s orders.”

* * *

At the garbage dump between Waterfall and Hotland, there’s a particular place I like to go to whenever life gets me down and I just need a good think. It’s a small hill overlooking the cascades made up of a bunch of appliances that have all rusted together into one big pile of Dog-only-knows what. It’s just close enough to the tourist-y parts to let me keep an eye on everyone while still far enough away to provide a little bit of peace. It’s where I first saw Alphys.

It’s also where I took Papyrus.

Carefully, I hoisted myself up onto what was left of a washing machine. Papyrus plopped down next to me and, staring at his lap, sat there absentmindedly kicking his legs in the air. You could practically see the rain cloud hovering over his head.

“Permission to ask…” He stopped himself. “Um, why are we at the dump, Captain Undyne?”

“So you can see what a Royal Guard is,” I said. “At least, to me.” That seemed to perk him up. He straightened slightly.

“What do you—”

“—Hey, close your eyes, listen for a bit, and tell me what you hear.”

Papyrus did so. “Well, okay. Let’s see … I hear the sounds of the river. I hear bits of trash falling into the water. Oh! I also hear the Great Papyrus.”

“Anything else?”

He listened again for a minute. “…Kids. I think I hear kids.”

Sure enough, a group of tiny voices—the usual crowd of mischief-makers; I could tell—gradually rose above the din of the dump.

“Whoa, check this thing out!”

“What is it?”

“It looks like one of those human game machines. Yeah, see? You use these buttons to move what’s on the screen.”

“Does it work?”

“I dunno. They probably wouldn’t have thrown it out if it did. I can ask my cousin. He knows all about this kind of stuff because he uses lightning magic.”

“But wait, we don’t have any games to go with it.”

“Oh yeah. Well, maybe there’s some nearby. Let’s keep looking.”

The kids carried on like that for a good while, buzzing with excitement over all the things they had found. It was only after they had gone did I turn to Papyrus again. “What do you make of that?”

“Sounds like they were having fun.”

I nodded. “Right? But isn’t it a little strange? I mean, think of where all this stuff came from.”

“…From humans,” said Papyrus.

“Exactly. The very things that killed our ancestors, drew us into an unwinnable war, and then stuffed us all into the Underground. The very things that, even though we haven’t seen one in-person for years—thank Dog—are still part of our society.” I held my arm out over the mountains of trash. “They’re in our classrooms, textbooks, and museums. They’re in our picture books, our TV shows, our homes. They’re even in the far corners of our dreams. For what it’s worth, those kids shouldn’t want to associate with this stuff at all. They should be scared of it. But they’re not. And you know why?” I stood up on the washing machine and gave Papyrus the best grin I could muster. “Because they know they don’t have to be; the Guard will protect them.” I took a breath. “There’s no telling how long we’ll be stuck down here, so the best thing we can do is make sure everyone sleeps soundly today without having nightmares about tomorrow. That, to me, is a Royal Guard: someone who keeps even boogiemen away.”

Papyrus had grown quiet. I wasn’t sure if he was just listening—or if he was surprised, stunned into silence, or what—but his expression, unreadable though it might have been, told me he was hinging on my every word. So, I went on.

“You see, you can memorize facts and protocol until your brain bleeds, master every fighting style known to monster, work your way up to a spot higher than that of even the King … but it all means jack if it doesn’t serve a purpose; if you don’t have a reason, a goal, something that gets you up in the morning and pushes you to do what you do even when every fiber in your body is telling you to stop. For a Royal Guard, well, that’s what makes a Royal Guard.” I gave him a nudge with my elbow. “And that is something you have to define for yourself, Papyrus. Nobody else can tell you the answer.”

Having said what I wanted to say, I took a breath and let my words sink in. Before Papyrus got too involved, before he decided to throw his life—his goodness—out into an uncaring world, I needed him to fully understand: A Royal Guard is what he makes of it…but it shouldn’t be about the gear, the status, the parties, the semi-legal ability to use semi-lethal force… It should be something greater than himself, greater than even the Great Papyrus.

“I’ve got it.” Papyrus’s voice wrenched me from my thoughts. “I know what a Royal Guard is!” He stood up and, once again striking that dorky pose with his hands on his hips, proclaimed to the Underground, “A Royal Guard is someone who makes the world a little safer for those who are small and don’t have a lot of HP!”

That… was quick. I whistled through my fangs. “Nice! I dig it. A ‘protect the weak’ kind of person? That’s totally you, Papyrus!”

He fidgeted and flushed straight to his forehead. “W-well, I don’t know if I’d necessarily say ‘weak’. On the contrary, Sa—”

Unfortunately, the sudden addition of Papyrus’s full weight, coupled with his now excited jitteriness, had loosened the washing machine’s age-old hold on the mountain of trash. With the explosive creaking of corroded metal, our former seat sent us tumbling to the ground atop an avalanche of household appliances.

Again, like I said before, skeletons are just as durable as they are persistent. Fortunately, the same can be said of fish as well. Soaked in nasty water and garbage, and surrounded by a mob of concerned onlookers, we laughed and laughed until we realized our guts hurt not from laughter but from possible internal bleeding.

* * *

As we walked back from the dump that day—two bruised and bandaged peas in a pod—Papyrus had his head tilted to the sky, and his steps seemed doubly as sure of themselves. Yet, watching him saunter about in that overblown stride of his, I got the strangest sense that, for the first time in a long time, Papyrus had finally, truly begun to relax.

Now, if only he could teach me how to do that.

Not gonna lie, I was still worried about him. Like some neurotic, different-species mother, I knew deep down I was gonna worry about him and that brilliant goodness of his ‘til the day I was six feet under. But, I also knew that if I stuck to him like glue, if I became the best Captain I could be…

No, wait, scratch that last bit…—

“Hey, Papyrus? Before we start your training proper, I need you to do one last thing for me.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m ready for another tough question just yet, Captain Undyne.”

“It’s not that, ya dork. I need you call me ‘Undyne’. No more of this ‘Captain’ stuff, okay?”

“…”

“Remember what I said? Formalities get in the way of getting to know people. I mean, unless you call all your friends ‘Captain’ because, if so…”

“What?! No, not at all! It’s just, you really want to be my… friend?”

“Why not? I think we make a pretty cool team.”

“B-but I’m not a Guardsman yet! I haven’t been trained in honorable combat! I haven’t even—”

“—Papyrus.”

“Yes, Capta-, er, Undyne?”

“Permission to be your friend?”

“P-p-p-p-permission granted!!”

…—If I became the best Friend I could be…Then, maybe, I wouldn’t have to worry about him quite as much.