#there's no way to judge if frisk knew if there were monsters or not of course

[riftfic]

17. Epilogue

The end is here.

Thank you, everyone, for staying with me till now. I've made two additional illustrations buried in the text below. :)

Happy Anniversary, Undertale. 💙

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An incandescent future unfolded over the course of that year. Though far too familiar events repeated with frustrating familiarity, they arrived in new packages: some in bright and colorful wrapping, some in grossly damaged bags. Even if confusing and often jarring, most monsters expressed gratitude to have familiar yet unfamiliar lives awaiting. The additional security and a world more accepting allowed them to press on with more comfort than expected. 

Not all were as fortunate. Several returned to lives in pieces. Lost relationships. Humans that knew them, loved them, and had aged beyond them. Photographs of small children they might never conceive. Tombstones engraved with names of the living . . . sometimes their own. 

At first, Asgore and Toriel tried to shield you from the responsibility. This level of accountability, they said, should not rest on a child’s small shoulders. No one needed to know about your hand in the broken clock. 

You didn’t see it that way. Not knowing why their lives had been stolen, left wondering if their relationships could be undone again, only festered the wound. So you explained to them what had happened and why, and swore that it would not and could not happen again. Amazing, how forgiving monsters could be—not that they all were. 

For three months, HEART continued its search for monsters left behind. The moment Sans had recovered, he had jumped at the chance to join Papyrus and Undyne among their ranks. His unique teleportation magic served them well once he had a feel for those snaking, unfamiliar shafts and pathways. Places once difficult to reach suddenly became accessible. Dozens of monsters and their families owed him thanks, especially those trapped deep in the Ruins. 

None of them were Wingdings.

With this and all else he had set in motion to free them, monsterkind quickly came to love and respect Sans in a way he had never truly experienced. Sure, he had been a recognizable face in the local comic scene, the friendly smile at Grillby’s every other night, the playful hotdog peddler in Hotland, sentry and judge for the royal family, but never . . . this. If the swath of gifts and well wishes in his hospital room hadn’t been enough proof, Asgor went far enough as publicly honoring him. He hadn’t knighted him, thankfully—a fact Sans could not celebrate more—but he did proclaim something more touching than that. 

He named a star.

As a human, the first mention of this honor had underwhelmed you. Humans named stars all the time for science, for romance, for shits and giggles. What you hadn’t understood was that, to monsters, this meant far more than looking up and picking a distant flicker. 

Their people had evolved from stardust. While humans had a touch of this magic in them, monsters churned with this fire as their lifeblood. The celestial bodies, their very beginnings, were esteemed with enough reverence to be gods. 

Their banishment to the Underground had been especially cruel for this fact, and after such a long separation from the sky, marking their reunion with a new light was more than fitting. After all, when someone’s name was thought with enough intent in so many hearts, a star wasn’t only named; it was born. 

It was bright and it was beautiful. When viewed through his telescope, it nestled in a pocket of blue and gold fringed in red, much like the Ring Nebula, only light years from a star they had once named after you. 

“i don’t get it,” he admitted to you after the fact. “all i did was make up for somethin’ i did wrong. my motivations weren’t exactly heroic either.”

“Not all knights wear armor, Sir Sans the Star.”

“heh . . . and just what’re you gettin’ at, fair frisk the fart?”

You laughed. “It doesn’t matter why you did it,” you said. “You still did it. You brought back the dead, Sans. You deserve to be thanked for that, don’t you?”

You knew Asriel hadn’t been the one he wanted to resurrect. Even after the members of HEART had disbanded, he delved into the dark in search of Wingdings until his phalanges bled and his magic ran dry. All of you had begged him to relent, Asgore more than anyone. Not until every inch of the Underground’s remains had been scoured did he finally lose hope.

At least now, his brother’s name did not wither from memory like a dream in the morning light. For the first time, he could mourn him freely. He could share memories with those who knew him, find understanding in kindred spirits, and heal.

As one year on the surface came to a close, he finally found the courage to destroy the machine.

The spring sun crisped dewdrops from dandelions as you and Sans strode across his overgrown lawn. The skeleton brothers’ house, a cozy little two story chalet, stood half embedded in the steep hillside behind you. Its stilted, elevated porch overlooked miles of green forest and a babbling river inlet at the knoll’s foot, just as he had remembered. A long road wound atop the hill’s peak, passing from driveway to driveway to outline a comfortably spaced neighborhood. In the distance, Mount Ebott reached among smaller peaks for white clouds in a gold and pink sky. 

Under your arms, you each carried a folded mesh lawn chair. Matte black aviator sunglasses masked Sans’ eyes, though a cyan glow smoked behind the left lens. A pair of bright purple shields blocked your own. Following behind in a cloud of blue magic, the rusty, tattered block of a machine he called a “temporal flux manipulator” hovered helplessly a meter off the ground.

A safe distance from the coyote bushes dotting the property line, Sans shook out his chair and tossed it down beside a patch of naked buckwheat. You followed suit and plopped into your seat.

“countdown?” Sans requested.

Before you could start, he had flung the machine unceremoniously upward, nearly thirty feet into the air. At its very peak, he voided his magic. It plummeted into a satisfying cacophonous crash of metal and glass, as if a double decker had smashed into a brick wall.

“Three,” you said.

Two Gaster Blasters materialized over his shoulders.

“Two.”

Their unhinged jaws pooled white-hot energy in their gullets.

“One.”

Those wild-eyed dragon skulls unleashed two furious jets of dangerous magic. The light reflected in your sunglasses. Screams of raging power overwhelmed the once peaceful ambiance of nature. You both watched impassively, but perhaps just a little smugly, as what had once been a marvel of science was pummeled down into a flaming mess. 

The blasters dissipated, appeased. Both natural and magical fire burned high like a bonfire in front of you. You popped open a bag of marshmallows. Sans, meanwhile, emptied an old yellow envelope into the flames, then shrugged and tossed in the sleeve as well. Blueprint after blueprint shriveled away to embers, never to be crafted again.

“erase that, ya fat gameboy,” he muttered. 

Just as he reclined in his chair, a sputter of laughter spooked him out of it again.

“That was five years of our lives and 20 million G in government funding you just blew up.”

Sans whipped around, eye sockets wide and empty. You followed his gaze. The uncooked marshmallow you had been too impatient to wait for fell from your lips.

A lanky skeleton stood somewhat removed behind your chairs, clinging to a small paper bag and his own wrist. An orange laminate wristband hung above his bony palm, rugged from wear, and another rested alongside it in white. The sleeves of his loose, plum colored button-up had been pushed up to his elbows; the buttons down his torso had been fastened incorrectly, off by one. Something like apprehension and hesitation lit the small lights of his eyes, so similar to Sans’ and yet worlds apart. 

Sans’ hand shook audibly as he peeled the sunglasses from his face.

Wingdings looked exactly the same as he had nearly a century ago—no longer melted, his body whole—even if those awful cracks still split his skull. They had been mended, only scars now behind a thin but large pair of lopsided circular glasses. Though he had seemed joyful a moment ago, his smile slowly slipped away. 

At his heels, a small white dog panted happily. Far behind, at a bend in the road, a black Lincoln idled in park. Asgore stood leaning on the car door, watching from afar.

“I guess,” Wingdings eased past the silence, “it worked. Kind of. In a roundabout way. Basically, I was right; you were wrong. Congrats to me.” A small smile split his face again and his shoulders twitched upward. “Hooray,” he lilted weakly.

Sans had been creeping cautiously nearer, trembling, tracing that silhouette with the star of his left eye. Only inches apart, he touched the wristbands. The white one listed his name, his species, a mental hospital, and an admittance date—almost nine months ago. The orange band simply stated, “SUPERVISION REQUIRED.” 

Sans’ face was wet before he realized why. Every thought and feeling had been swept away until now.

“did you really come all the way from the void,” he hardly breathed, “just to rub it in my face?”

Wingdings stared down at him a long moment before his eyelights circled up into a cinched brow. He shrugged again. “Yes?”

Sans bubbled with laughter then, and Dings bubbled back. Next thing you knew, they were piled in each other's bones on the ground, happy, relieved, home. The Annoying Dog danced joyful doggy circles around them with a wildly flapping tail. 

From his vantage point, Asgore smiled with relief and found the resolve to approach.

“Oh, hey,” Wingdings said brightly when he noticed you nearing. “One sec.” 

He opened the paper bag and rustled around inside. The sound of pill bottles jostling like rain sticks only distracted you a moment before he surfaced something both considerate and serendipitous. Chocolate. Your favorite. A big, thick bar of the good stuff, the kind that melted in the mouth and made for soft and perfect s’mores. Your mouth salivated as you took the brick into your hands. The two of you were going to get along fine.

“One square at a time,” Asgore instructed you firmly.

You nodded.

“nine months?” Sans lamented playfully, tugging at the band around his brother’s wrist. “i coulda given birth by now. what happened? where were you? why . . .” Joy siphoned out of him. “why didn’t i know?”

At this, the anxious guilt Wingdings had forgotten sprang to life again.

“I’ll explain.” Asgore’s broad shoulders blocked the sun like a monument. His large though gentle voice stilled them all. 

“Your majesty, I can . . .” 

“I am no longer ‘your majesty,’” the great boss monster interrupted Wingdings with a smile. “I am your friend.” 

Dings relented, then, even if he fidgeted with the tags wrapped around his ulna and radius. Sans took his hand hostage.

Shortly before Sans had joined HEART, a small team had discovered Wingdings deep in the remnants of Waterfall. They had nearly given up their search when an annoying white dog barked after them ceaselessly. It led them to a dark alcove behind watery curtains, where Wingdings lay huddled in a corner, confused and nearly starved. 

“I was all bone,” Wingdings interjected shyly, but no one smiled. 

When he received the call that yet another skeleton had been unearthed, Asgore had raced to meet them almost as fast as he had run to meet you—but what he found was not the reunion he had hoped for. His smart, clever friend had been whittled down to a frightened creature with an ever fracturing hold on reality. With the breaking of the barrier, more than his grip on the rift had slipped loose. His mind had lost its bearings into a whirlwind of relentless psychosis. Excluding his early years in the void, Wingdings could not remember enduring an episode darker than this. 

Though warned of Wingdings’ catatonia and incoherency, the king of the underground immediately requested to visit him. He was glad he did. Something about seeing Asgore snapped Wingdings out of his stupor and into a brief moment of clarity, long enough to ask for help . . . and beg for the news not to escape, not even to Sans. 

“I didn’t want to be seen like that, marbles all over the floor,” Dings said. “And if I couldn’t be helped, well . . . I thought it would be better to stay forgotten.”

‘i didn’t forget you.” Sans’ grip on his brother’s hand tightened. “i mourned you. i thought you were dead.” 

‘I’m sorry.”

“I should have told you, Sans,” said Asgore. “Right away. I was torn . . . and the longer I put it off, the harder it became.”

Sans took measure of his heartache and decided it wasn’t worthwhile to blame them, not now. He had learned to forgive Asriel; he could absolve his brother and Asgore of this one misstep. He let the warmth of that metal bonfire and the sight of Wingdings’ tired face smooth over his soul.

“you don’t gotta apologize,” he sighed. “it sounds . . . scary.”

Windings nodded meagerly, but did not elaborate.

Asgore had placed him in a special care ward under the brightest human and monster minds he could assemble. Thankfully, humans had already researched three years ahead on this front. With their combined understanding of monster and human anatomy, they found a combination of physical and magical treatment that worked enough to stabilize him. The rest relied on therapy. 

“I’ll have sessions twice a week,” said Dings. “Asgore already agreed to take me, so if you have reservations . . .”

“reserva—the hell are you talking about?” Sans said. He had gripped his little brother by the shoulders, then, harsh at first but quickly gentle. Tears beaded in his eyes. “you think a little hot water’s gonna scare me off? you’ll be lucky if you get me off your heels!”

“It’s not over,” Windings said shakily. “I’m not cured. Something like this doesn’t just go away. It . . . sleeps.”

Sans deflated, then softly clutched him to his chest. Dings lowered his eyes, melting touch-starved into arms he had once lost hope in feeling. 

“i know,” Sans answered calmly. “and when it wakes up you don’t gotta face it solo. you’re not alone in the dark anymore. you’re home.”

Sans inhaled deeply, mercifully, as if he hadn’t truly breathed since the day he lost him. Saying the words aloud had released something inside him like puncturing a balloon. Everything felt pure and new: the weight of his brother in his arms; the scent of him intermingled with the neighbor’s freshly-cut grass; the warmth of his breath amid the late summer sunlight bleaching his skull; the glow of his eyes against the bonfire flickering strange their shadows. Nothing would let him forget this, not even the stars that began to glimmer out of hiding. 

“you’re home,” he said again, and this time his voice rattled with joy.

Wingdings held him very tightly then, desperately, and with it Sans knew he shared the sentiment. He smiled truly, deeply, never more whole, and hid it for himself in folds of wine purple cloth. 

“you made it.”

The End

Hear me now, hope you're listening It's been centuries, least what it seems to me I've been on this road, my eyes glistenin' Our past don't matter, I'm much stronger And fly much farther, soar overseas Finally, see, I'll keep on climbing Ridin' the lightning and I am sure

At times, I really didn't show What was wrong with me, wrong with me I told myself I cannot grow Without lovin' me, lovin' me But this is just the hell that lives inside Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide

I've been goin', goin' in circles Reoccurring dreams, talkin' in my sleep Then I'm floatin' up to the surface I can finally breathe, I could do anything And I don't know why it's all right And it's not at the same time Then I look up at a blue sky And I know

At times, I really didn't show What was wrong with me, wrong with me I tell myself I cannot grow Without lovin' me, lovin' me This is just the hell that lives inside Tell me now, where to? Please be my guide

"Lovin' Me" - Kid Cudi feat. Phoebe Bridgers

That's it. That's the end. :')

This has been an amazing journey. Thank you, thank you so much for reading through to the end.

I've been considering starting a new fic, a part two so to speak, that follows Wingdings as he reconnects with family and friends and learns to navigate his new life. Plus healing, as well as his mental health and trauma from the void. Maybe romance??? idk. A wholesome slice-of-life thing, much lighter in tone. I have scenes in my head already.

Thank you again. I have a surprise in store, so please don't unsubscribe just yet. ;)

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[imtrashraccoon]

Whew! This one was a bit tricky to write and I couldn't find a way to wrap it up, so it turned out double the length of the others! I hope you enjoy lol.

@scrambledmeggys

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Day 16: Competition

"Humans... Prepare to die!"

A monster you'd never seen before stood in the doorway brandishing a glowing red spear. She was almost as tall as Papyrus and appeared to be some sort of aquatic monster if the gills along her neck, frilled ears, and webbed fingers were anything to go by. Her skin was a deep blue and seemed to be made up of scales with a couple of red stripes along her more aquatic features. She had firey red hair that was tied up in a high ponytail, and her one good eye was a piercing yellow that reminded you of a cat's, while her left eye was covered with an eye patch. She also had sharp teeth and her nails were rather pointy, having also been painted a dark red.

She was wearing a black parka, a pair of thick gloves, and fluffy earmuffs. You couldn't see what she was all wearing underneath the winter gear, but her black ripped jeans and red boots almost seemed similar to Papyrus' guard uniform. Was she another member of the Royal Guard then?

There wasn't any time to question this situation further though, because she legitimately wanted you and Frisk dead. You weren't entirely sure how she'd gotten inside anyways as the brothers usually kept the door locked.

While you knew that Frisk could just reset if this situation turned out badly, you still weren't willing to rely on that power. So, you went to put yourself between them and the intruder but Frisk stopped you.

They tugged on your sleeve before touching their thumb and pinky finger together. "Six."

Your eyes widened as the realization that this had happened several times already dawned on you. Slowly, you edged away from the fish lady as your mind scrambled to come up with some way to get out of this situation.

Frisk stayed behind you and their eyes were narrowed as they scanned the intruder, looking for any weakness that could be exploited. So far, they seemed just as stumped as you were but they were also stubbornly refusing to give up. There had to be a way to defuse this situation like you had all the other ones before now.

The angry fish monster advanced on you and slowly raised her spear but before she could throw her weapon, Sans teleported into the living room. His eye sockets were blank, something you didn't even know he could do, and he looked pretty shaken up.

That quickly changed though when he saw what was going on. His gaze flicked from you and Frisk to the fish lady, who seemed surprised to see him. Sans didn't hesitate further and his crimson magic blazed to life as his left eyelight returned to it's socket.

"undyne," he growled under his breath. You got the impression he'd gone from worry to being enraged in less than a split second.

"Sans," she snarled and the corners of her sadistic smile fell slightly. "What is the meaning of this? Why are these humans still alive?!"

"that's none of your concern, i have my reasons."

Undyne lowered her spear and fixed Sans with a critical look. "Really? Them?" She pointed at both you and Frisk as she spoke. "You picked now of all times to do your job?"

Sans slipped his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, which was slightly perplexing to you. While his tense posture spoke otherwise, was he really so confident that he could win this encounter? Or was he just attempting to assert his dominance in this situation?

"you wouldn't get it but all you need to know is that i have judged them. there's nothin' you can do to change my decision," he answered.

Undyne ran a hand over her face before pinching the bridge of her nose. "I don't believe this...." she groaned. "Just because you happened to...take pity on the enemy, doesn't mean you can just use your position to deliberately disregard Royal Decree. I ought to arrest both of you for treason and take these human's souls to Asgore."

Sans stiffened slightly at the reference to his brother and his magic seemed to burn brighter for a moment. "then you'll die tryin'..." he growled but made no immediate move to attack.

"You Are Completely Outmatched Against Both Of Us."

Your heart skipped a beat when you heard Papyrus' voice. Glancing up, you spotted him at the top of the stairs, although he certainly looked angrier than you'd ever seen him. He wasn't wearing his armour right now but frankly, he didn't need it to cut an intimidating figure that would put the fear of death in anyone.

Undyne snarled and raised her spear again, although she pointed it in his direction this time. "You! I should've known this was why you'd been acting like a complete pansy these past few weeks. Protecting the enemy...what do you have to say for yourself, huh Papyrus?"

Papyrus glared at her and despite the way she was threatening him with her weapon, he deliberately descended the steps while maintaining eye contact. "I Have Nothing To Say To You About This," he stated.

Seeing as Undyne's attention was on the brothers rather than you or Frisk, you silently moved into the kitchen. While you were confident things would be okay, now that both brothers were involved, you really hoped there was a way to peacefully resolve this situation.

Frisk tugged at your sleeve, drawing your attention back to them. "I don't know what changed yet but neither of them showed up all the other times," they signed.

You frowned but didn't have an answer to that. To remain quiet, you signed back rather than speak like you usually did. "I don't want them to fight if we can help it. Did you have any ideas yet?"

Frisk frowned and tapped their chin thoughtfully. "I'm not certain yet but she seems like a competitive person; like even more than Papyrus or Sans are."

You hummed softly, "That could be worth exploring. Maybe we can challenge her to a contest? I don't know anything about her though so it's a bit of a long shot."

Frisk nodded seriously. "Yes, and anything involving strength is a no go for you."

You let out a hiss of indignation and quickly shot back. "Watch your tongue, you rascal! I am plenty strong!"

Frisk laughed silently, "You said tongue!" They grew more serious though and added, "I wasn't really joking though. She seems really strong."

You sighed, "Sorry... You're right though, I definitely can't take her."

The argument in the living room hadn't let up yet and while part of you had hoped that Sans or Papyrus would be able to defuse things, you knew better. You wouldn't say it aloud, but they both had awful conflict resolution skills and it looked like Undyne was just as bad.

Turning to Frisk, you signed, "I'm going to try something, so apologies in advance if this becomes number seven."

Frisk nodded and a glimmer of Determination crossed their expression. "You got this! I believe in you!"

You grinned and shot them a pair of finger guns. Normally, you would've made a quip about only living once, but uh...that wasn't exactly true as it turns out. Turning your attention back to the living room, you stepped just over the threshold and took a moment to observe how things were going.

For the most part, both brothers were remaining calm and collected while Undyne was the one doing most of the yelling. You felt a small tinge of pride as you didn't think either Sans or Papyrus were capable of having a constructive argument, but they were keeping things from escalating into a full blown fight somehow.

Clearing your throat slightly to get their attention, which worked fair better than you anticipated as everyone immediately turned to look at you. Undyne's expression was still full of rage and while both brothers still looked rather cross, Papyrus seemed to become visibly concerned for a moment.

Steeling yourself for what would likely be yet another awkward encounter, you took a deep breath before speaking. "We never got properly acquainted, Undyne, was it? My name is Rihanna." You paused for a moment before adding, "I do wish we could've met under more pleasant circumstances, but maybe we could change that?"

Undyne grimaced, "Yeah no. I don't care who you are and I don't want to be your friend...or whatever these idiots are to you." She narrowed her eye at you in such a way that made you feel like she was looking through you.

You stared back at her, not being willing to let her have the satisfaction of intimidating you. "Fine, I wasn't expecting to be friends anyways. Any chance we can talk this out? Or come to some sort of agreement somehow?"

Papyrus sighed and ran a hand over his face. He made his way over to you and put a hand on your shoulder. "I Know You Are Trying But You Should Not Waste Your Time."

"Still, I want to try, is that so bad?" you asked and moved slightly closer to him. You didn't touch him though and mostly just wanted to stick closer for protection.

"What about some sort of contest? We could compete over something you're interested in?" you asked Undyne again.

"Hell no, stop asking because I don't care," Undyne hissed. She glanced at Sans then back to you and Papyrus. "I've seen enough. Come quietly and your sentencing will be easier. As for you," she pointed the tip of her spear in your direction, "I'm bringing both your souls to the King so Monsters can finally be free."

You noticed Papyrus' jaw clench slightly and caught Sans glancing at him in a questioning way. Because you were standing right next to him, you could feel his magic spike slightly, even as he let go of your shoulder and fully turned to face Undyne.

"Wait!" you cried, realizing they were planning to fight right now. Once again, everyone turned to look at you and it wasn't any less awkward the second time. "Don't fight each other! There's no point!"

You hesitated for a moment before deciding just to play what might as well be your trump card. You looked Undyne in the eye again and squared your shoulders.

"There's no point, because you can't kill either of us. We won't stay dead, no matter what, we have always come back. Think what you want, but both Sans and Papyrus have tried to kill us, multiple times even. They failed because we wouldn't stay dead, so even if you killed us, it wouldn't matter because we'll just come back."

The room was silent. You couldn't see Papyrus' expression, because he was facing away from you, but Sans seemed stunned. Undyne, on the other hand, looked like she didn't believe you and she narrowed her eye suspiciously.

"In fact, you've already killed us six times now, Undyne," you added. While you knew most of what you'd said was true, you were still lying by omission as only Frisk could reset, while you didn't seem able to do so. Still, you were hoping the futility of this situation would be enough to dissuade Undyne.

It seemed that Sans was the first to recover from the shock. He sighed and ran his hand over his face. "well then, if we're just comin' out with it..." he muttered. Turning to Undyne, he said, "there's the reason then, can't exactly take their souls if they mess with time, huh?"

Undyne still didn't seem convinced although she lowered the tip of her spear slightly. "That's impossible..." she muttered. "No human has ever been able to do that before you two. How do I know you're not lying, huh?"

"And how do you know if this is the first time we've had this conversation?" you pressed. "Doesn't this whole interaction feel...familiar? Like a sense of deja vu you can't explain?"

Undyne hesitated. The tension was thick in the air as she studied you critically. You could've heard a pin drop if it wasn't for the hammering of your heart.

"I don't like this..." Undyne took a step back, the spear dematerializing from her hand as she did so. "I'm going to have to consult Alphys about this whole time travel thing."

She moved towards the door but paused and pointed an accusatory finger at you. "This isn't over, human. All of you are on thin ice and if I find out you were lying, I'll report you all to King Asgore directly."

"good luck with that," Sans retorted. " 'sides, al isn't exactly an expert on time travel, that was more the previous guy's schtick."

Undyne huffed, "Don't think you're off the hook either. I'll be keeping a much closer eye on all of you from now on." With that, she turned and marched out the door.

No one said a thing for several minutes afterwards, just in case she came back. You suddenly felt rather lightheaded and sank down onto the couch as the adrenaline began to wear off. Frisk came out of the kitchen and curled up next to you. They rested their head in your lap and you absentmindedly stroked their scalp in a comforting way.

You broke the silence first with a soft chuckle. "I'm not a gambler, but right now I feel like I could win the lottery."

"How Much Of That Was True?" Papyrus asked quietly.

Sans nodded slowly and moved around the couch to stand in front of you. "i knew you were crazy before, but you are so lucky that worked..." he muttered. "you have quite a bit of explainin' to do."

"Yeah, of course." You paused for a moment, trying to figure out where would be best to begin. "Everything I said was true, however I may have left out or slightly exaggerated some things."

You glanced down at Frisk and asked, "Is it alright if I tell them the truth?"

Frisk shrugged and sat up. They glanced between the brothers before nodding, "I trust them."

"Well then, the truth is that only Frisk is able to time travel like that. They remember what happened in previous timelines and whenever one of us died, they would reset to a safe point so we could try again. I don't remember any of these previous resets and I just know what Frisk has told me."

"Then We Really Did Try To Kill You Before." Papyrus' expression was a mix of hurt and horror which nearly broke your heart.

"Yes, however neither of us kept track and besides, we aren't upset with either of you." You sighed, "I am sorry you both had to find out this way. I don't like the whole reset thing either but we wouldn't have made it out of the Ruins otherwise."

Sans sighed, "i guess this explains that deja vu i kept gettin'. i nearly thought i was going crazy..."

You grimaced at that. "Again, I'm really sorry about that...about all of this too. I didn't mean to hurt either of you..."

Papyrus caught you by surprise by pulling you into a fierce hug. His claws dug into your back slightly and your arms were basically pinned, but you didn't protest.

"It Is Alright, I Am Not Mad At Either Of You," he murmured quietly. "I Am Just Happy You Are Safe."

[magicdreemurr17]

3rd Anniversary

"Along This Trail"

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

“You’ve been quite the little busy body, haven’t you?” Magic growled.

The child’s malicious smile turned into a tormenting smirk. They had taken the lives of everyone and everything living in the underground, multiple times, so it shouldn't have been so surprising that they weren't faced by her aggression. Doing this, they'd already been through hell and back, so Magic's frustration was much tamer by comparison.

“What? Did you think I’d feel any remorse for those idiots?” an unfamiliar voice spoke out of Frisk’s mouth. That was… strange. That voice sounded nothing like Frisk’s sweet and mellow voice.

“W-Who are you?! You aren’t Frisk!” Magic stammered, taken aback from the shock of there being someone else pulling the strings.

The child began to cackle maniacally, these odd, black tears streaming from their crimson eyes, “You STILL haven’t figured out my true identity? I think you’ve been spending so much time gawking at that sorry excuse of a robot that it rotted away your brain.”

Magic clenched her fist, her blood boiling from the hate she felt, “Listen to me now, kid. You can say whatever you want about me. Frisk or not, I don't care what you think anymore… but don't you dare insult Mettaton!”

They never even tried to get to know him personally, so what gave them the right to attack his character? The way she saw it, this entity would stab first and ask questions later. Perhaps whoever was using Frisk’s body and allowing no remorse or regret from Frisk’s portion of their intertwined soul to come through so they could maintain control.

“Who do you even think you are?! You never bothered to even learn about any of the monsters..-”

“WRONG!!! I know everything about each and every single one of them! Especially that traitorous scum of a goat prince, Asriel!” The child yelled in pure hatred.

Magic gasped as her eyes became wider than ever. She knew that name all too well. Asriel was the prince of all monsters, son of Toriel and Asgore Dreemurr, the queen and king. There were several timelines where she and Frisk discovered, at the end of their journey, that Flowey was Asriel. It was strange that this child brought up the deceased prince, almost like they knew him before he became Flowey, as if they were… best friends. There was only one person Magic heard about in the underground who fit that description.

“C-Chara..? The first human to fall… but that was years ago! There’s no way you survived your illness!” Magic snarled in anger, showing only slight surprise.

“Ah, but you forget that I had a small chance of turning into a lingering spirit.” Chara replied with a smirk pasted across their features, “I’m just getting my revenge on those pathetic monsters.”

“What would you even want revenge for?! They never did anything to hurt y..-”

“THEY DID EVERYTHING TO HURT ME!!! Asriel betrayed me and broke a promise he made to me. That sweet, innocent monster that was my best friend, he said he trusted me, that he would never argue or judge my opinion. When it all really mattered, however, he betrayed me, like he didn’t even care!” Chara monologued in anger and sadness.

“Still! How can you blame all the monsters that were alive today for a mishap that occurred years ago? Can’t you see it’s not fair to the..-” Magic’s sentence was cut off as Chara lodged the Toy Knife they had kept with them since the ruins right through the older human, stabbing clean through her chest. Blood splattered from the open wound as Magic fell to her knees.

No...

Not like this…

…

“Aghh..!” she cleared the draft in outrage, “Why is it so much harder to write about something you lived through while also making it sound interesting!?”

“Relax… you've been staring at that screen for the past four hours, procrastinating.” Magic took a sip of her bubble tea, one hand resting comfortably in the pocket of her MTT-brand hoodie, “You're gonna wear yourself out if you keep doing that. Why don't you take a break? Mettaton's fired up the disco room alongside his Dancetale counterpart. You like to dance, don't you?”

“I can't just relax right now. I've gotta get this done so I know what to build off of for the next chapter.” Pacifist replied.

“I know, I know… but I feel like you're taking this a little too seriously. Yeah, you might've lived through it, but I feel like you're exaggerating this story just for the publicity.” the human raised an eyebrow at her as she took another sip, “You sure Mettaton and Undyne weren't a bad influence on you..?”

“That's not the point..! It's not like I'm retelling our story just for my readers..! I… have some personal motivations behind it too.” Pacifist leapt in her defense, only earning an eyeroll from her lookalike.

“Uh huh, sure. Come with me a sec, yeah?”

Without warning, the girl in glasses snatched Pacifist's wrist and dragged her out of her room in the studios located in the Omega Timeline. The building itself was massive, hosting enough rooms for almost every person who's been to this place. CORE!Frisk really went above and beyond to make sure everyone felt at home, or at the very least welcomed, here. On the way to the cafeteria, they passed by a recording studio, where some members from XTale were getting ready to rehearse for a special movie that Ink!Sans wanted to put out for everyone to see. It took a lot to convince Mettaton to play his part, mostly because he'd been salty over the fact that he gets killed off in his debut episode… or at least, that's what he claimed, despite the implications of the script saying otherwise.

XGaster sensed them pass by and turned towards the door for a brief moment, exchanging tense glares with Pacifist. This didn't go unnoticed by Magic as she yanked on the anomaly's arm harder to get her attention.

“Will you just stop glaring at that mummy-man and keep moving?” she ordered impatiently.

“He doesn't have enough plasters on him if you ask me…” Pacifist grumbled.

“I heard that,” XGaster responded.

“Oh, good. You can listen… selectively.” she retorted, earning her an undignified snort from XChara and surprisingly Cross, who both earned an over-the-shoulder death glare from their universe's creator.

“Come on, Pacifist.” Magic walked around and literally pushed Pacifist out of the doorway so she couldn't exchange glares with the apathetic… skeleton..? Monster..? Honestly, they didn't know what to call him anymore. Ink!Magic insisted that he wasn't just a skeleton, yet they didn't want to find out what he actually was.

Moving into one of the recreational rooms, they noticed several kids from various AUs sitting around a table, coloring together. Among them were Underfell's Frisk, who had dragged their Asriel over with him, but seeing the now taller goat prince trying to sit comfortably in a kid's chair was just pure comedy. In the corner of the room, Fell Magic was watching them like a hawk with the Royal Guard captains by her side. Hiding behind her leg was her daughter, who sheepishly kept her distance from the other children (she was antisocial, there was no getting her to join the crowd). In another corner of the room, Outertale Magic was accompanied by her robot companion, trying to teach some of the AU children to understand sign language. She was planning on asking one of her alternatives to help her, but Outer!Mettaton insisted that he had to keep an eye on her. It probably didn't help that just a few moments ago, her Horrortale counterpart had triggered some… disturbing memories of his.

“Better watch out, robot. If you lose sight of her again, she might scream for help if she's in danger..- Oh wait, she tried, but nobody came.” she had said, a belligerent smirk on her face.

That instantly sent the poor robot into a “what-if” spiral, as not even CORE!Frisk could reassure him that they were safe in the Omega Timeline. Luckily, Horror!Magic didn't get away with it, as she was employed (against her will) to help the librarian organize their books. Unfortunately, she wasn't very good with her organization skills, so she got yelled at a lot for not putting things in the correct order. It got a laugh out of her Undyne though, who enjoyed watching her wallow in her frustration… even if it was at a distance where they couldn't get into one of their… “confrontations”.

A sudden voice snapped Pacifist out of her thought train, “Well, look who finally crawled out of her little cave… Finally remembered to touch some grass once in a while?”

The human anomaly looked over to find Fell Magic's eyes piercing through her soul. Behind that cold glare, she could faintly see hints of concern laced in her expression.

“Actually, I..-”

“No, Blackthorn, she did not remember to touch grass.” Magic interjected, “As a matter of fact, she was still staring at her screen, moping about our autobiography before I dragged her out of there myself.”

“Of course she did…” Fell Magic shook her head slowly, rolling her eyes, “Papyrus, Undyne, go upstairs and bar her door shut for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, ma'am!” the edgy skeleton quickly replied, rushing upstairs in an instant.

“Hey! Wait, don't do that! I haven't even gotten past the prologue yet!” Pacifist whined.

“Or eaten something half decent in almost three days! You can't keep gorging on snacks twice a day and call that a meal just because you're stressing out..!” Fell Magic growled, “I swear, if I wasn't restricted from it, I'd smack you upside the head for your stupidity, dumba..-” she looked down at her daughter, who had her head tilted in confusion as she gave her mother the large, timid but slightly curious eyes, “ergh, I mean… I'd lightly tap you on the back of the head for not taking care of yourself.”

Outer!Magic nodded her head slowly in agreement, affirming her alternative's concerns silently.

“The last time any of us saw you leave your room, it was because you and Genocide had a debate over plot elements.” Underfell's Frisk added.

“In my defense, he was arguing about how I should've changed my weapon from a sword to a lance since I favor polearms.” Pacifist crossed her arms and huffed in offense, “Every great story I know has a main character with a sword.”

“And most of those stories you know have the same, monotonous, god-slaying sword.” Fell Magic rolled her eyes again, earning a scowl from Pacifist.

Moving past the recreational room, Magic dragged her to the cafeteria and into the kitchen where Epic!Toriel was engaged in pleasant conversation with her XTale counterpart. Sitting at one of the tables in the main dining area were XTale and Epictale's Magics, the former being carefully monitored by her bodyguard and partner. It didn't take long until the two monster queens noticed they were no longer alone in the kitchen.

“Ah, good evening, children,” greeted Epic!Toriel.

“To what do we owe this pleasure..?” XToriel asked, checking them both for any cuts, scuffs or bruises, “You didn't get into any trouble, did you..?”

Pacifist shuddered in slight discomfort at how maternal XToriel was being, throwing up her hands quickly in defense, “No, no! Nothing like that..! We're just here because… well, Magic insisted that I eat something.”

“Hmm?”

“Well, I've been so preoccupied with writing that I kinda lost track of time.” she replied.

The room suddenly got much more tense, as both goat moms exchanged a… perfectly ordinary glance with absolutely no hidden message beneath them. Epic!Toriel's face darkened as the tension in the air grew thicker, making Pacifist feel incredibly small where she stood and Magic grateful that she wasn't the one under the goat monster's intense gaze.

“My child… when was the last time you ate..?” she asked, her voice flat and emotionless minus the inquiry.

“U-Umm, s-s-solid meals or snacks?” Pacifist laughed nervously, swallowing hard.

“Snacks are hardly a meal!” bellowed Epic!Toriel before covering her mouth in shock, “Ah, forgive me. I've been needing to raise my voice a lot as of late to a… certain, stubborn someone. We must correct this at once! Go on, out of the kitchen with you. We shall make you something more substantial to eat.”

“But..-” Pacifist got cut off as she was ushered out of the kitchen by XToriel, moseying on over to the table where Epic!Magic was chatting it up with XMagic.

The two noticed her presence quickly and smiled as she approached them. The XTale General immediately took a bow out of respect, but it made Pacifist physically uncomfortable.

“Lady Pacifist, allow me to pull a chair for you.” XMettaton implored.

“That's… That's not necessary, General. I can seat myself.” she replied.

“But surely you must be exhausted…”

“General, I was upstairs writing; that doesn't require much physical activity, last I checked.” she clarified.

“Yes, but it requires brain power, and that can only be draining for someone as fragile as yourself.”

Who's he calling fragile..? He's lost his limbs multiple times, including on set… accidentally, Pacifist thought.

“We from XTale know how that can be, I assure you. We wouldn't want someone as delicate as you getting any ludicrously absurd ideas that torments your health further or jeopardizes the ones you care about, now would we..?” he let out a nervous robotic chuckle, but Pacifist could tell he was attempting to side eye his princess over the shoulder without her noticing.

Unfortunately for him, XMagic's brow twitched slightly, catching the slight tilt of his head in her direction. Without warning, she snatched the tail-end of his cape and, with all her strength, flipped it right over his head, blinding him temporarily which caused him to flinch before spiraling into a panic.

“Gah! Milady, forgive me! Please! Please, I beg you! Fix this cursed thing!” he whined, “Darling, please..! I can't seeeee..!”

“Oops, so sorry, General… My delicate hands must've slipped for a moment.” she retorted, a touch of salt dripping in her tone, causing her Epic alternative to let out a hearty laugh in amusement.

Pacifist giggled slightly, “That's what irked you? Not him addressing me as ‘Lady Pacifist’?”

“He refers to your universe’s Magic as ‘Lady Magnolia’,” she took a sip of her tea, maintaining an air of decorum as she spoke just to taunt her robot companion, “I think you'll find I am not the jealous type. If anything, I should think it's a compliment.”

“Oh, I'm flattered, don't get me wrong…” Pacifist replied, “but I'm still not used to hearing it, y'know? I don't really like being treated as royalty..-”

XMettaton was quick to correct her, “With all due respect, you are the adopted child of the original Dreemurr family! There is no greater honor in all the Multiverse… That title alone should be celebrated, regardless of your origins.”

Pacifist scowled slightly, “You know if you were one of those overpowered skeleton characters that I begrudgingly know exist out there, I would not take those words very lightly… but you're one of Mettaton's alternatives, so you're lucky your cute looks force me to bite my tongue.”

Epic!Magic wiped a tear from her eye after recovering from her laughter, “I see now where Snowdrop got both sides to her personality.”

Pacifist paid her a confused glance, unsure of what she could possibly be referring to, but before Epic!Magic could answer that question, she stopped when a sudden chill went down her spine. It was so paralyzing, even she couldn't muster the guts to turn and look behind her.

“Is there a problem with our Magic's personality..?” a rough, feminine voice interjected, with Reapertale Undyne looming over, glaring down at Epic!Magic.

“Great to see your hearing in regards to her is still top-notch, Undyne…” the paranoid human responded with a nervous smile that screamed ‘help me’ as the goddess of war just stood there… menacingly.

“Hmph. Don't you dare speak her name in vain, mortal… Alternative or not, I don't care. If you dare soil her reputation as a goddess, I'll pull you aside and knock some sense into you, got it?” she threatened.

The sudden sound of heels clicking against the floor broke the tension in the room as a softer voice interrupted, “Honestly, Undyne… Are you ever going to leave me to fight my own battles..? The tension you are bringing to this room won't help Pacifist calm down… and you know it makes a majority of the refugees uncomfortable.”

“But she was..-”

“I heard her… but did you not hear what I've told you about controlling your temper? You can't always go on a warpath whenever you hear something you don't like.” the blonde-haired goddess replied, maintaining composure even in the presence of the enraged goddess.

Reaper!Undyne grumbled and crossed her arms, dropping the conversation but not without muttering incoherent words under her breath in frustration.

“Thanks for that, Snowdrop…” Epic!Magic replied, letting out a relieved sigh with an expression that made it seem like her soul had left and was just reentering her body.

The Reapertale variant of Magic snapped her fingers, forming a makeshift chair for herself out of vines and branches uprooting from the ground beneath the floor, taking a seat calmly while she sipped on a teacup she got from… gods know where.

“That was worse than anything Sans has come up with.” Reaper!Magic suddenly interrupted, looking over at Pacifist.

“Whuh..-? I didn't say anything.”

“Not you… per se...” she inquired.

What is that supposed to mean? thought Pacifist.

“Nevermind. So how is your… I mean, our story coming along?” Reaper!Magic asked, “Everyone around here seems to be waiting with baited breath, and yet you produce nothing. There's also been word that you've been tiring yourself faster than you can get a single chapter done… to the point of skipping meals.”

“I wouldn't go that far..! You make it sound like I'm doing it on purpose. I may be stressed because I can't find the right words to… well, write, but I'm not beating myself to a pulp over it.” the human anomaly replied.

“... You've become a perfectionist, haven't you..?” XMagic inquired.

“What..-?”

“Say what!? You mean that old geezer rubbed off on her?” Epic!Magic stood up so fast, she knocked her own chair down, “Where's his ugly mug!? I'll reintroduce him to my battle axe for corrupting Pacifist with his influence!”

XMagic glared at her alternative, her eyes going hollow briefly, “Amaryllis. Sit. Down.”

“Uhh… S-Sure thing, Hibiscus.” she replied nervously.

XMettaton shook his head from behind, looking upon the other royal Magic in disapproval, “Such rash behavior from a Royal Guard…”

“General, if I may be so bold, hypocrisy is no virtue to live by.” Reaper!Magic interjected, sipping her tea casually, “We've all seen how you and Cross behave in interaction, or do I need to remind you of a certain incident involving a popularity contest..?”

The monochrome robot general immediately shut his mouth, his mind blanking at the obvious callout. Yeah, there was no way out of that one… he and Cross have had many heated interactions with each other in the past, especially ones where the General lost his cool… namely that incident.

“Ahem.” XMagic cleared her throat to get their attention before continuing to scold her Epictale counterpart, “I can assure you XGaster did no such thing. For him to corrupt Pacifist would be among the tallest orders… next to him getting along with your AU's Gaster, of course…”

“I’m insulted that you even think I’d let him do that; I thought you knew me.” Pacifist responded in mock hurt before getting more serious, “I've been trying to make this story perfect, yeah… but I think I'm so worried about what others will think of it when I start to reveal where it goes, no matter how accurate it really is. I mean… in the eyes of some random monster or man on the internet, most of it sounds completely made up.”

“That's because you have a wild imagination and a tendency to exaggerate just for suspense. With you, anything can sound made up.” Reaper!Magic commented.

Pacifist laughed slightly, “I mean, if I'd been told about four years ago our time that I'd have seen this many alternate universes and met all of you guys, I probably would've said ‘you're making that up’. I would've believed someone who told me I was going to turn into some kind of supernatural animal that leaves a blue blur as it runs before I believed that.”

“... Again I say, a wild imagination.”

“What!? That's a real character in the fighting game that Asriel and I like to play!” Pacifist replied in offense.

“Super Smashing Fighters?” asked Epic!Magic.

The human anomaly facepalmed, holding her head in the palm of her hand as she rolled her eyes, “Who the heck invented that ripoff name anyways..?”

Reaper!Magic giggled slightly, “It is truly a joy seeing you get so passionate about what motivates you… though you needn't be such a perfectionist with what you love. That's the most important thing… just doing what you love for the sake of doing what you enjoy. Mistakes can and will happen… but it's okay. Just live and learn.”

“Easier said than done, but… I can give it my best shot.” Pacifist replied, smiling slightly, “Thanks for the pep talk, guys. I'm used to being the person who does that.”

“You've given pep talks to last us to Ink's twentieth birthday since XTale's arrival. We've heard enough.” Epic!Magic answered, making Pacifist somewhat confused.

“But… you know Ink!Magic doesn't age, right? I mean… Moonflower looks like she's nineteen, but she's older, and also doesn't age because… well, y'know.”

“Yeah, but she doesn't act her age and being reminded of that gives us, her creations, an excuse to baby her because HAVE YOU SEEN HER!? SHE DESERVES TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS!” Epic!Magic responded, slamming her fist against the table and knocking her and XMagic's drinks into the air, startling the monochrome woman a bit.

The General quickly stretched out his arms and swiped both glasses before they smashed against the floor, glaring at Epictale's oldest human angrily.

“You could've indirectly burned her highness like that!” he complained.

“Come on, she's fine. Live a little, General! You're so overprotective of her.” Epic!Magic waved her hand at him dismissively.

“FOR GOOD REASON!” screeched the robot.

Pacifist watched as the two royal guards started to bicker back and forth, with the XTale princess caught in the middle looking amused that what was once a mutual respect was completely shattered the moment that she met her Epictale alternative. It was little moments like these that made her truly adore the life she had now, even if it was still plagued with its stressful moments. It didn't matter whether the day was plagued by scorching sun nor freezing cold, there was always a journey ahead to look forward to; a new day to celebrate with the colorful characters she'd befriended.

“You know, guys..?” Pacifist spoke up, grabbing their attention briefly, “It's moments like these where I truly don't miss the old life I had. I never really had this kind of stuff back home… so thank you for that. May these peaceful days last… I look forward to the tomorrow with you.”

Her words made their hearts melt from their honesty. It was written on her face.

“That old conflict was not our adventure's end… merely a fresh start to see what else lies beyond the sky.”

…

…

…

“Please… S-Spare us….. g-give…. us….. m-mercy…….” the commoner fell to the ground, limp after the sword that had been lodged into their chest was removed.

The sword's wielder stared at the blood from behind their mask with a lifeless gaze. That was the last light that was to be snuffed out from this world… one of the outer realms from the world they came from. They stopped when they noticed their reflection in the blade's metallic sheen, dark as it were, as they flinched and lowered the sword, sheathing it with the last soul taken from this place.

“In the end, it didn't even matter…” they spoke softly, “your rulers tried to put up a fight and failed… your most valuable soldiers killed, and for what? A promise to a good future..? Promises are useless. Certainty is all that counts… if you want to defy fate, you must have the conviction and determination to grasp that certainty.”

They stopped and held up a heart-shaped locket in their free hand. In contrast to the black and dark purple armor they adorned, this locket was a bright gold, much like the luminescent parts of their old body… their weak, mortal body that was destroyed what felt like years ago. They weren't sure how much time had passed; only that it had been over five years. A stray tear formed in their eye, but immediately dried up when getting caught in the mask they wore to hide their face. They clenched the locket in their hand, causing it to crack slightly.

“There… Now, like me, it is broken.” they stated, “Hmm. It left behind an x-shaped crack… how intriguing.”

The sounds of footsteps approaching caught their attention as their fellow comrades joined them, overlooking the destruction, both donning a similar black armor… One lethal swordsman, and one skilled mage.

“It appears we could not retrieve the data belonging to the two queens.” said the mage, “Tch… and after we went through all this trouble.”

“... Destroy the ark containing every last bit of data for this world.” they ordered all of a sudden, causing the swordsman to widen his eyes in slight shock.

“Are you certain..? That data will be lost forever…” he reminded them.

“Not forever,” they retorted, “I can OVERLOAD its destruction. I have a copy of each of these worlds’ data saved to my personal bank, along with the code of every individual soul that belongs in these worlds… or have you forgotten..? Death doesn't exist to us.”

He turned away without another word, understanding his comrade's instructions now.

“The World of Two Titans… and the World of Blades shall cease to exist now… just as the worlds we attacked before them. All that leaves is… that world…”

The mage hesitantly spoke up, “Are you certain this is the path you'll take..?”

“I will not depart immediately… our contractor has... other plans for me.” they reached into their cape and pulled a suspicious-looking canister, one with a smell that reeked so bad, it could turn up even the least sensitive nose, “I'm afraid I will be detained for quite a while… At least until I'm finally able to manifest this blasted curse.”

“You call it a curse, just as he did…” the swordsman pointed out, frowning behind his mask, “Do you still miss him..?”

The first one was silent for a while, but then finally spoke, “I am the False Light… I hold no ties. I miss none and have no one to miss.”

“Nemesis…” The mage answered sympathetically.

The first character marched past their two allies, tormented by a single lingering thought that had pestered them since they slaughtered that last commoner.

Spare them? What kind of fool would do such a thing..? All enemies have to be eliminated… they're in my way. That's how you play the game. Simple as that.

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

UPDATE: Hello everyone! Happy third anniversary to Undertale: Lost In The Echo! I know it's been a while since I've posted anything, and likely most of you have given up waiting on Chapter 11, but, well, I'm actually here to explain what happened. See, I was SUPPOSED to post Chapter 11 back in Summer, I wanna say around the end of June, early July... the problem came from the fact that I wanted to release a promo poster to go along with the start of the Waterfall Chapters, but the artist I recruited to assist me with that while I worked on the chapter got overwhelmed with other things and couldn't finish it.

That being said I did manage to get another friend to do the piece for me, and with Chapter 11 finished and ready to be posted, I ask that you please wait just a little longer and it'll be out by the end of the month at the very least, early March at most.

Oh, and for those wondering if this story is canon to the events of Lost In The Echo; no. This story is NOT CANON. This rush job was put together last minute after I realized today was the anniversary for Lost In The Echo and needed an excuse to put something out to appease my readers. I won't be uploading this story to Wattpad or AO3, so uh... I guess those people will have to just be patient?

Again, sorry for the delays, beauties. Thank you for reading this and remember to always stay determined!~ <3

Oh yeah, this should go without saying, but uh... The AUs mentioned in this short story don't belong to me (though the alt Magics do). Go give props to the creators of Underfell, Outertale, Horrortale, Reapertale, Dancetale, XTale, Epictale, and the creators of Ink!Sans, the Omega Timeline, and CORE!Frisk. Also, shoutout to one of my Discord friends for listing the first five AUs in that list to use in this crazy little spinoff story. You're a true bro. Who knows if I'll be using these AUs again in the future? Maybe you'll have to wait and see for yourselves. ;)

Bye now!

( LOST IN THE ECHO PROLOGUE )

[ixloom819]

My Undertale AU: 7DSTale

*This was inspired by Mario and the Music Box: Arc

Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: HUMANS and MONSTERS. They worked together to preserve goodness between the races.

One day, however, the Seven Deadly Sins escaped from the underworld and began infecting humans and monsters alike. The humans and monsters called forward the Seven Heavenly Virtures to stop them, but it turned into a neverending war.

Finally, the humans and monsters decided on a way to stop the fighting. The humans would stay on the surface and guard the Heavenly Virtues, and the monsters, being the purer race, would keep the Deadly Sins underground.

Since then, the Deadly Sins had gained human hosts, so the rumor was spread of an incorruptable species living underground. The offer was irresistible and the Sins headed towards the Underground, not knowing of the magic spell trapping them there.

The first sin to enter, Wrath, came in the form of a child, Chara. They were able to hide themselves well and posed as a normal human who wanted to meet the monsters. King Asgore, Queen Toriel and Prince Asriel adopted Chara and grew to love them very much.

The other Sins were not as stealthy in their approach and began corrupting whoever they could. King Asgore would come, destroy the human form, and seal the soul of the Sins in containers. Chara saw this and knew if they could possess all seven Sins, they could corrupt the entire monster kingdom, then escape to the human world.

But as they went for the containers, Asriel came and tried to stop them. Enraged, Chara unleashed their Wrath and killed Asriel. Unfortunetly for them, Asgore saw it and, upon examining their soul, discovered they were Wrath.

Heartbroken, Asgore went to destory Chara’s body. Toriel, not knowing the situation, only saw Asgore about to kill Chara. Chara, knowing Toriel’s kindness, begged Toriel for help, claiming they didn’t do anything. Asgore tried telling Toriel what happened, but Chara swore Asriel died by an accident. Toriel believed Chara and threw herself in front of Asgore. Asgore went ahead and destroyed Chara, the weapon doing nothing to Toriel as it was made only to destory the Sins.

Asgore realized the foolishness in keeping the Sins in one place. He entrusted a Sin with trusted monsters that (seemingly) couldn’t be corrupted by the specific Sin: Gluttony with the Queen, Envy with the Snowdin sentry, Pride with the Captain of the Royal Guard, Lust with the Royal Scientist, Greed with the Royal Scientist’s greatest creation, Sloth with the Royal Judge, and Wrath with himself. However, the Sins slowly leaked out from their containment, mildly infecting their guardians.

Asgore sealed Wrath into Chara’s body and kept it in his basement, unable to look at his former child’s corpse. However, he underestimated the power of Toriel’s grief. She hated Asgore for killing Chara, but couldn’t stand to be away from Chara. So she flew away with Chara’s corpse (and unknowingly Wrath) and Gluttony to the Ruins, where she gave Chara a proper burial.

With the Heavenly Virtues allowed to roam freely for years while the Deadly Sins were in captivity, the Forces of Balance demanded that the Deadly Sins be allowed to overtake the world for the same amount of time. They created a vessel for the seven Sins and called it Frisk. Frisk fell to the Underground and landed on Chara’s burial grounds. Wrath, sensing a worthy vessel and aching to leave the corpse, went into Frisk, along with Chara’s consciousness.

Frisk now has to find all the Sins, corrupt the Underground and escape to the human world. Frisk does not have the power to save, load, and reset; however, they don’t need it. The Sins can never be destroyed, so Wrath recharges Frisk to keep their new vessel from dying.

Determination = Wrath

Bravery = Gluttony

Justice = Greed

Kindness = Envy

Patience = Sloth

Integrity = Lust

Perseverance = Pride

*Same as any of my other work, feel free to make fan-stuff of it, just please credit me if you do. And be sure to send me it, I’d love to see your work *^-^*

[dogcritter]

i love the tragedy of sans undertale so fucking much, like its so upsetting but it’s so wonderfully done oh my god. sans, more than likely, wasn’t even happy before the frisk incident but he was okay, you know? he has papyrus, who he obviously cares very much for, he has friends! but sans always knew to much, stuff he didn’t want to know. he found all the information he knew a burden, and it didn’t help with the fact he has this fucking…power. i don’t think sans even knew the extent of his own power before the genocide fight, quite honestly, because again he felt knowing would be a burden. he didn’t need to know! because sans thought he would be stuck in this underground forever, which wasn’t the greatest thought, but it was safe! there was no need for sans to know how far his power could go, so he didn’t find out up until that point. but then, this human comes along. and if we are going along the lines of how a first time player would play the game, this human isn’t exactly dangerous, but they aren’t safe. i think sans could tell from the beginning frisk was off, wasn’t just a human who fell into the underground. but he chooses to ignore it, and keep a closer eye on his brother, because they’ve only been attacking monsters who attack them. so they can’t be so bad? and they’re just a kid, so what’s the worse they can do? finally, though, frisk kills asgore and makes it out. and as sad as the king being gone is, they have a queen with an all to familiar voice. and everything basically goes back to normal. but this is where a real problem begins. it all resets. sans doesn’t know how, sans doesn’t know why, all sans knows is this exact same thing has happened before, and eventually he sees the same god damn kid he’d seen step on the same god damn stick. at this point i’d say sans doesn’t know what to think. he knows about time lines! he knows, vaguely, about resets and he knows about the anomaly and sans knows it all points to this kid. but what is he meant to do about that? again, sans knows to much he doesn’t want to know. but this time around this kid, this human, is going very particularly out of their way to not hurt anyone. i honestly don’t know if sans ever trusts frisk in any rout we see, but this is good! every one lives! and holy shit they make it out of the underground! i think sans is on edge though, even after making it out. because if frisk can reset once, who’s to stop them from doing it again? but frisk is nice..frisk is their friends, why would they ever do something like that?

the human resets again. sans has to be so fucking tried, so exhausted, and even angry. they had it all, they were out, and happy, and everything was great. but here they were again. and sans knows to much again. no one else remembers these resets, not outside dajuvu, so it all repeats in every single way. sans is burdened with information again, but this time it was someone’s fault. watching this kid walk down this path and step on the same branch for the third time, i’d imagine he feels defeated already. much less when they’re more than “a little off”. sans couldn’t even call it human anymore, watching it outwardly search for his own kind to murder. and then his brother. and he knows the women behind that door. and his friends. everything that was safe, everything that was making him okay. gone. by the hands of a child- no, a monster, he almost trusted, and that he definitely cared for. he knows he should have killed them from the start, done his job for once, but what would that have even done? they couldn’t die, not for long, he came to that conclusion a while ago. so was he supposed to just sit and watch and wait for his turn? that sounded like an easier option, but sans couldn’t be lazy this time. he’d judged them twice now, once they were protecting themself, and once they were the angel from the prophesy, but this time? they’d have to pay for sins they’ve committed.

i have a very strong feeling sans initiated this battle knowing he would lose. because why would he want to win? so he could live in the underground with everyone else dead besides the king and that damn flower? he fought to get revenge, just to make it a little harder on them, and hopefully guiltily. sans’s fight is so sad to me, because as full of anger as it is, it’s so hopeless. not meaningless, but hopeless. i think the worst part is this is the hardest sans has ever fought. like i said before he had no reason to know about this power, so as he’s fighting he’s just realizing himself. i get curious if he thinks this is why he has all this power. if the reason he has all this strength is to kill this thing, as if it was always meant to be like this.

he finally gets to the point where he is physically tried, more so than before, where he quite literally just has to stop. so he traps it, and watches, but his eyes can’t stay open because he has never trained for this, he wasn’t built for this type of stamina. sans falls asleep, and then sans is hit. he already excepted his death, excepted it the second it walked out those purple doors covered in dust. and he knows this isn’t over, soon enough he’ll watch it walk and step on that branch again. but at least for now, he can have a break.

[stainedglassthreads]

Not much evidence for this, but I think monsters age weird in Undertale, but like humans in Deltarune. 

In Undertale, the timeline is kinda all over the place. We know that swords and magic were used by humans in the war against monsters, we know that Chara fell in the year 201x, and we know that Frisk fell an indefinite period of time later, but we don’t know how long-- in fanworks, I’ve seen the time range wildly from ‘six souls were collected in the space of about ten years’ to ‘six souls were collected in the space of a few hundred years’. The amalgamates and Mettaton probably happened somewhat recently, but a lot of monsters, especially younger ones like Monster Kid, imply they’ve never met a human before in their lifetimes. 

But we do have three certain examples of really ancient monsters. We have Gerson. Gerson is an elderly turtle who states he’s ‘been around a long time’, and that ‘studying history is easy when you’ve lived through a lot of it yourself.’ He’s also quite knowledgeable about the Delta Rune, prophecy, and how boss monsters age, being the only one to explain these things in depth, though even he knows little about the Delta Rune in the end. It’s popular fanon that he earned his moniker, ‘Hammer of Justice’, in the War. It’s also known that in real life, turtles and tortoises are extremely long-lived animals. 

It’s also popular fanon that Toriel and Asgore were alive during the war, due to how the King of Monsters in the cutscene heavily resembles Asgore. We know from Gerson that Boss Monsters only age when their parents or child are still alive. Without parents, and with Asriel dead, both have been stuck in a sort of stasis for an indefinite period of time. 

But in Deltarune, Asriel never died. So it could simply be the case that boss monsters still age Weird. If not for two minor things-- 

One, Gerson is dead. Two, the Light World, despite being populated by monsters, is painted as extremely mundane to contrast with the fantastical nature of the Dark World. Lightners seem to lack magic, as Noelle mentions one of the positives of the Dark World being magic that easily heals injuries-- the implication probably being, there is no such simple cure that can easily save Rudy. Other smaller examples include how Toriel seems to use a stove to bake, while Undertale specifically noted she used fire magic and her stove was clean, as well as the debates over whether or not monster Lightners dust upon death, and whether or not they have blood. 

Since Asriel never died, and since no one’s specifically explained how all monsters age in Undertale AND Deltarune, only boss monsters, this is gonna be kinda hard to prove, like proving a negative. Maybe Gerson’s a boss monster who never had a kid in Undertale, but did have on in Deltarune. maybe there was a tragic accident in Deltarune that led to Gerson’s death, rather than it being of old age. Maybe he never really died, and instead disappeared into some Dark World. Some of these questions may be answered in later chapters, but there’s a good chance that monster ages will be left really ambiguous, I feel like. 

Edit: I forgot that Undyne claims UT Gerson actually did fight in the war. So if this is true, Gerson lived from when humans commonly used swords and magic, to an indefinite number of years after 201x. Not actually fanon. Whoops. 

[sunnixsunshine]

Clumsy Chara gives me life because imagine this supposed* murderous 10 year wielding a fucking knife just going to town on every monster they encounter and they trip over their own fuckimg shoe laces just walking at an average pace

[kawia-renka]

Hi!! I just found out about your blog and thought it was really cool I was wondering how would asriel chara frisk kris Susie and ralsei react to reader who has a fear of a dark

Frisk, Chara, Kris, Susie and Ralsei With A Reader Who's Scared Of The Dark

❝ Thanks nonnie! For how much I like Asriel, he was the one I struggled the most when writing this. Huh 0-0

And unfortunately I wasn't able to come up with anything for him. I didn't write him, but if/when I get any ideas, I'll edit this or make a new post with it!

I uh, am also scared of the dark. I have trouble falling asleep without my lamp on TwT I just- like having things visible to me - ❞

• Oh Frisk can definitely understand why you'd be scared of the dark. They were probably scared of it as well, but eventually, after falling down to the underground and facing monsters trying to kill them in various ways, they realized there are way scarier things.

• That doesn't mean the dark isn't scary. No, it is scary. Periodt

• Whenever you're having a sleepover, Frisk leaves a lamp on, if you'd like. Or they cover it with some fabric, to make the light dimmer but still visible.

• They don't mind you being scared of the dark, like I said before Frisk used to be scared of the dark as well.

• Okay, you're scared of the dark. Noted

• It may seem like Chara doesn't really care about your fear, but actually they do. When you're in a dark room together, they ask you if you're fine with the lights being off. If you're not, Chara will try to find a source of light, a flashlight or anything.

• But they like telling you scary stories. I mean, they left the light on, that's good enough-? Don't worry if you're scared of them, Chara will hug you. But they'll still read it, just not out loud this time.

• Kris would be pretty chill about it. They won't judge or question you for it.

• Okay ,one time they might've scared you by turning off the lights. But it was an accident, I swear-

• If you're staying over at Kris's house and you have trouble falling asleep, they'll offer to tell you some stories to maybe help you fall asleep.

• Those stories can be things that happened, for example, at school, and often involve Noelle, Berdly, Susie, Asriel... Or something more fantastical and fictional like a world of darkness with various interesting characters. Huh, you sure didn't know Kris had such a bizzare imagination.

• She kinda just, laughed at you.

• Although she actually doesn't mind it, Susie will at least try to make you 'face your fears'.

• So when Miss Alphys asked for someone to get the chalk, she immediately raised her hand. Because this seemed like a great opportunity!

"See? Nothing to worry about. Just a casual, dark closet. " She said while you walked into it

• The supply closet was dark, but she knew that. What she *didn't* know however, was that it also led to a different world.

• You soon found yourselves to be in the Dark World. I mean hey, at least your fear of the dark is getting better? No?

"Goddammit [Name], where are we"

• Ralsei is very understanding and caring about it.

• He makes sure to keep the lights on when you're with him. Or to not go to places that are just, pitch black.

• Though you are in the Darkners world sooo... As the name suggests, it is dark here /no?yes?maybe

• If you ever find yourself in a situation where the lights go out, Ralsei can probably use a spell of some sorts. Wait, is there a spell he could use? Lumos. Lmao idk

• In other words; Ralsei just cares for you and doesn't like seeing you scared, so there's always some sort of light on when he's with you.

[a-snow-decahedron]

go off on ANYONE you wanna!!

Well you asked for this! So now I have to!

I made a list of 15 characters i felt like I could make a really passionate rant about (one of them is a group, actually) and Papyrus was picked. I... have a lot to say and this is gonna be super messy but, I hope you enjoy.

Every major battle in Undertale has its quirks and I think that Papyrus' is my favorite in that regard. You see... all the battles in a neutral run have an element of mystery that allows you to keep going without your actions having much consequences. Not even Alphys, who's been watching you throughout all of it can see that battle, because it happens in the middle of a foggy area. However the tone of the game changes instantly if you kill him. Snowdin town has a different atmosphere. Even people who never knew Papyrus feel something changed. Sans stops rooting for you and judges you deeply for it (and with good reason, we'll get there later!). Undyne is heartbroken, and at the start of her battle she can't even say he's dead. She knows him, the way he acts, how he treats people, and she can't even begin to understand just what YOU did to him. Let alone WHY. Papyrus, who thought of himself as someone lonely, who always did his best, leaves an incredible mark. If Toriel's alive, trying to rule again won't work because your actions have shown monsters once again that humans can't be trusted in any way.

And the thing is, all the hate you receive? It's completely deserved. Because Papyrus doesn't kill you. NEVER. He sends you to the shed. Yeah, it's not suitable for a human child, true. But we gotta take into account that no human has fallen in a very long time and what they know is very little. But he tries to make the experience fun, he makes puzzles that are fun. that have hints on them and that are completely fair. Sure, he's kinda brutal at times (colored tile, electricity maze, the gauntlet of deadly terror (idk if i spelt that right) but he would never do irrepairable damage on purpose.

In fact, he is good at keeping things in control: Papyrus doesn't let you kill him before stopping the battle. If you were a kid in Frisk's position it is understandable that you'd be scared and attack those who hurt you. Perhaps even kill a few enemies. Papyrus is battling you to stop you, mostly, but he doesn't put his soul into it. He knows the limits. So, if he sees risk..., either for yourself (by getting hurt until the last bit of HP), or himself (by attacking himseveral turns), he will spare you. He will offer to lay down his attacks and let you go. If you reject that. Can you say again that you're acting out of self defense? Can you say that you only kill to survive? I don't think so. So say, if you had a special power wouldn't it be your responsibility to do the right thing?" Yes? Then why'd you kill him?

And it doesn't stop at that. The thing with him is that he's the one that makes you feel welcome. Without this guy, Undyne wouldn't be your friend, let alone Alphys. He is a cohesive force and makes sure that not only Frisk is okay, but that they have someone to rely on. Even in the worst possible timeline, where he knows that everyone else is scared of you because of your actions, where he is AWARE of what you've done, he offers to help. He lets you make the choice not to go into battle, to change your path. To save you from a life of conflict and fear. Of course he's scared. But if it works...? Perhaps not only did he save people who would have become your victims but he saves YOU from ruining your life that way. It's not perfect. It doesn't take away the horrible things you did... but it is something. It is a choice YOU can make... so you better choose well.

Besides that? Man, I love the way he speaks aslkdjaskl It's pretty cool to see his odd patterns, which don't feel too odd most of the time, and can be quite illustrative to learn new words if you're not an english speaker heheheh. Also he's the type of person that one can vibe well easily, because he's smart and has a lot of ideas to share and that lifts your spirits!

I actually like the mystery behind his character. I like that it exists, that he kind of breaks rules all the time and it passes as just one of his quirks. But I also love that he's not just a backstory? So often I feel like characters are defined by their angst and past that you have to uncover like a mystery... that I feel like just getting someone that feels like a friend is super nice. There is no need to explain everything about him. He just is, and I think it's pretty great.

Of course don't let me stop you or anyone from theorizing. But it still feels nice to see someone being defined by their present actions rather than who they were in the past or what happened to them.

Ooooook i think that was most of it for now. If you got this far, thanks, if you didn't it's fine too. And if you wanna ask for another thing go ahead because i don't have enough words but i'm eager to share

[jmbringitonworld]

New, Fond Memories

The Last Corridor was not a happy place for either Sans or Frisk. It was a place full of nothing but bad memories and bad times, where the echoes of blood and dust could still be felt in the minds and souls of the both of them, forever staining their hearts. It was here where the very worst of them was laid bare, where a friend became judge, jury and executioner, where a hero could become a villain, and where sins were punished.

Frisk, even at her most merciful, even when she strived to be the best person she could be, was still filled with dread and fear whenever she entered the Judgment Hall. She hated having her every action judged, irrespective of circumstance or motive, and she hated even more that it was by one whom she had once believed to be her closest friend and ally. But that was nothing compared to the hatred she felt for herself, when she eventually gave in to Chara's own corrupted and corrupting hatred. The sins of the past continued to crawl on her back, despite the Resets. Her crimes could be erased, but her regret remained.

As did the regret Sans felt, for his part in Frisk's suffering. He may have been a good Judge, but, as he'd come to realise, he hadn't been a particularly good friend to the human. Frisk had always tried her best and remained determined, despite her little stumble with that brat, but he couldn't say the same for himself. He knew that he could've tried harder to protect her when she was being attacked by the very monsters she ended up saving, knew that he should've done more to help his friend, but he hadn't. Out of laziness, out of cowardice, out of apathy... it didn't matter why. All that mattered was that he hadn't kept his promise and Frisk had been hurt.

So he couldn't completely fault her when she and that brat had hurt everyone back. Stopping the demon the two of them became hadn't been his proudest moment, not that he'd had too many of those. But looking around the Judgment Hall, he couldn't help but picture it covered in blood, couldn't help but remember each time her brilliant red soul had shattered, and recall the way her body had felt in his arms as he'd speared it with his bone attacks, when she'd finally managed to break through the demon's hate and LOVE, to show him mercy. She'd forgiven him for that betrayal, just as he'd forgiven her for hers, but he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive himself. His own sins weighed heavily on his neck, too.

It was clear that what happened in the Last Corridor haunted them still.

But it did not have to. In fact, Frisk refused to let it. After all she'd accomplished, all they'd achieved, together, she wasn't about to let unpleasant memories continue to torment them. They'd finally gotten their happy ending and she was determined that they be happy. So she'd suggested that every year, on the anniversary of them becoming a couple, the two of them would return to the Underground to have a date in the Judgment Hall. To "create new, fond memories" as she'd put it, "to replace all the old, bad ones". And so they did, every year without fail.

It was during one such date that one especially fond memory was created.

Frisk and Sans were sat on a large, comfortable blanket, a lunch consisting of Grillby's burgers and fries was spread out before them, with a bottle of ketchup for Sans, a thermos flask filled with golden flower tea for Frisk, and a butterscotch-cinnamon pie waiting in the basket for dessert (one that Frisk had baked herself, after diligent practice and careful instruction from Toriel). Given the warm weather, Frisk had chosen to wear a pretty, flowing sundress, and in her lover's opinion, she looked especially radiant in the golden light of the Hall. Sans himself had forgone his usual casual outfit, and instead donned a suit, much to Frisk's surprise ("what, doesn't this suit me, babe?"), with a bowtie in the shape of a bone ("you like my bone-tie?"). He looked smart, Frisk admitted, though she couldn't help expecting some kind of prank from him.

The couple were enjoying their time together, happily chatting and making jokes, keeping their conversation intentionally light and cheerful, while leisurely digging into their meal, occasionally feeding each other fries (and not once did Sans attempt to prank her with the food, which made her both relieved and suspicious). Despite how well everything was going, Frisk couldn't help but notice how her bone-friend seemed a little nervous and jittery. Whatever was troubling him, she hoped he'd share it with her soon; they'd promised that they wouldn't keep any more secrets from each other, after all. And once they were done eating and their small talk had died down, it seemed like the skeleton monster was finally ready to let his human girlfriend know what was on his mind. He made a noise that sounded, impossibly, like he was clearing his non-existent throat, catching Frisk's attention, before reaching over to hold her hands in his skeletal ones, firmly keeping his eye lights on her confused and curious face, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

"hey, babe? i know i don't say this nearly as much as i should, but i need you to know just how grateful i am to you, for everything you've done for us monsters and for me, for everything you keep doing, day after day. i could thank you every single day and it wouldn't be enough."

"Where's all this coming from, all of a sudden?" Frisk questioned, looking bewildered but bashful at his words.

"i just realised i don't do enough to really show you how much you mean to me. and you mean a lot to me. so, so much," his gaze was pleading, as if begging her to believe him. "after everything we've done, all we've been through, you've become the most important person in my life."

"And I feel the same way about you, Sans," Frisk smiled warmly at him, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"i know, sweetheart. i can't imagine what you see in a lazy bonehead like me, but i couldn't be more thankful for it. and that's why i have to let you know what's in my soul," he took a deep, unneeded breath, gearing himself up for his next words. "before you came into my life, my days were empty and meaningless. with all the anomalies in the time-space continuum and time resetting constantly, nothin' i did mattered and i'd long given up hope on anything ever changing. and then i met you," here, his perpetual grin softened considerably, his eye lights becoming heart-shaped, as he released one of her hands to raise his to her face, tenderly cradling her face and reverently stroking her cheek with a phalange. Frisk leaned into his touch, her gaze entirely besotted, focused fully on him.

"i never coulda imagined back then just what you'd come to mean to me," Sans continued, voice thick with emotion. "you saved me, frisk. you gave me everything i'd long stopped wishing for, and then some. you became the angel of mercy we all needed. you're the angel that i needed. how could i not fall madly, hopelessly in love with you?" Unable to help himself, he leaned forward to press a firm kiss to Frisk's soft lips, before pulling back slightly. "man, i wish i could smack past me round the skull and tell him to greet you in a much cooler way."

"What are you talking about? The whoopee cushion in the hand trick is a classic! It's always funny," Frisk insisted with a giggle. Sans let out a laugh of his own, bumping his forehead playfully with hers.

"can't argue with that," he agreed. "at least it was a better greeting than it woulda been if i hadn't made that promise to tori. i really need to thank her for that. not that i didn't hurt you plenty, despite my promise."

His face fell, expression growing remorseful and self-reproachful. Frisk called his name worriedly, her free hand going to stroke the side of his skull comfortingly.

"i know i've said this before and i don't want to ruin the good mood we had going on, but i need to say this again. i'm sorry, frisk. i'm so sorry," his voice was low and regretful, but remained steady and insistent. "for everything i did to you. for everything i didn't do for you. and i promise i'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. and you know how much i hate making promises, but i'll gladly make this one for you."

"Then I'll make this promise to you: I promise to spend the rest of my life atoning for my sins and making up for all the wrongs I've done to you," Frisk vowed, filled with determination. "I'm sorry too, Sans. Whether I meant to or not, it doesn't change the fact that I did hurt you, so much, and I will always regret that. So I'll devote the rest of my life to making you happy"

"you already have, babe," Sans insisted, expression lighting up once more, smile once again sincere and loving. "more than i ever thought possible, more than a numbskull like me deserves. every day i spend with you by my side is the best day of my life, every moment with you is the best gift i could ever receive. i can't imagine being any happier than i am right now, but you always did manage to do the impossible. so maybe you'll do it again now."

At this, he started looking nervous again, one hand going to fiddle with something in his pocket. Frisk stared at him curiously, wondering at his sudden change.

"i really do mean it when i say that i love you. more than you'll ever know. you mean the world to me, frisk. you're my angel, my shining star, my heart and soul. my hope and my salvation. i'm no longer scared of time being reset, not anymore. because i know that you'll be there. and so long as i have you, i'll never lose hope again. even if i wake up back underground tomorrow morning, i'll have faith that everything will be okay, that you'll get us our happy ending again. i trust you, completely. which is why i have something very important to ask you. something i never thought i'd ask anyone. but you made me believe in the future again, so here goes nothing."

Then, he shifted around to get down on one knee in front of her, holding her hand in one of his while the other retrieved a small box from his pocket, opening it and revealing the beautiful ring within. Frisk gasped in shocked delight, free hand flying to her mouth, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. Sans gazed at her hopefully and lovingly, heart-shaped eye lights shining brightly, and pulsing, white soul glowing visibly in his rib cage.

"frisk dreemurr, love of my life and mate of my soul, will you marry me?"

Overwhelmed by the love filling her soul and the tears flowing down her face, Frisk struggled to get the words out, vigorously nodding her head.

"Yes, a million times, yes! Of course I'll marry you, Sans, nothing would make me happier!"

Letting out a relieved and delighted laugh, Sans gathered his new fiancée into his arms, pulling her into a passionate kiss. They pulled back just enough for Sans to tenderly place the glittering ring onto Frisk's finger, the both of them admiring the sight for a bit, before they both came together once again in another kiss, followed by many more, each one filled with love and a promise of happiness.

Soft, golden light fell gently down on the happy couple. From that day on, the Last Corridor would always be remembered by the two of them as a place full of new, fond memories and good times.

____________________________________________________

In celebration of my finally being allowed to create an AO3 account (link, still a WIP), I'm posting something I've been wanting to write ever since I first started writing.

The idea (and the title) for this drabble comes from a conversation I had with my wonderful and talented friend, @wolfkice, following their art (here and, more specifically, here). I remarked how I felt anxious about the Last Corridor (aka Judgment Hall), despite never having done the genocide route, but all the fanwork (fics, art, games etc.) on this place had ruined it for me and I couldn't help but associate it with Bad Times and Getting Dunked On.

So they suggested that I should "make some new fond memories". And since I'd never read, seen or played any fanwork where anything even remotely nice happens there, I decided to create my own headcanon, where Frisk and Sans would go on a picnic date to the Last Corridor, to create those fond new memories, to rewrite all the bad ones tied to this otherwise beautiful location. And so, lacking the ability to draw it, I'm writing it instead. I also decided to have Sans propose to his lady love here, for extra fluff and feels. ^ ω ^

[moxfirefly]

I have to thank @southernblossoms for this one, she got evil!Leo in my brain and he hasn’t left ever since.

TW: Violence, Gore, Blood, NSFW content below

Rated Explicit (18+ years)

“She said I'm looking like a bad man, smooth criminal

She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before

She said that I don't look like me no more, no more

I said I'm just tired”

Leonardo always knew there was an inch inside of him that was darkness.

If left alone and unchecked, it would spread. Fester like some disease and he feared that someday he’d allow it to course through his body so freely.

And let it win.

It seemed today would be that unfortunate day. A night like any other, just more bloodshed than necessary. But hey, who said they should go and kill his father? Torture him to such an extent and string up his body for his brothers and him to find.

In that very moment that inch had grown in his soul to a degree that it blinded him. All he knew was to destroy, to hurt and erase those who had done this. He felt so cold, hands cupping his fathers motionless bloodied feet, the gentle tapping of blood and the cries of his brothers echoing in his ears.

So when Leo stood, bloodied (not bathed in his own), holding the head of the monster responsible, how could he regain peace? This had only brought a momentary second of reprieve and it was so fleeting. He looked into Shredder’s lifeless eyes, numbness spreading but a need that had started out as an inch. A need to kill everyone who had been part of this, directly or indirectly.

They all deserved so much worse.

They all deserved death.

Slow and torturous.

He had disappeared after that night. His brothers knew that this was the end of their leader, of their beloved brother who wanted to believe that good in this world could prevail.

For them they never imagined that Leo would just let the darkness take hold of him, nestle him with such a loving embrace. For him to embrace it right back felt justified, for his brothers it painted the gory picture of things to come.

They never expected to meet him in the opposition. To view him as foe and not family. Leonardo had quickly taken hold of the scum of the earth. He had molded the darkness to serve him.

Raphael thought Shredder was their worst enemy.

He never expected to have Leo claim that spot in a matter of months.

The Foot had fallen under his ruling, and he wasted no time in setting examples, and the bloody path those examples left behind never seized to churn the brothers stomachs.

There was no means of bringing him back, and perhaps it’s for the better.

Because whatever has eaten away inside of Leonardo cannot simply be flushed out of his body, nor ripped from his very soul. The body counts too high by now as he strays further and further away from what he was taught.

From what his father taught him...

_______________

You run with the unsavories. An eat or be eaten mentality that has caused you to survive years and years of gang wars and mutant freaks. Not like you’d throw about that last bit, much less when you’re standing single file, close to pissing yourself because he’s there.

And Christ he’s a sight to behold.

A rumor, a legend, a monster.

You tell him you’ve got valuable info, you know where to follow the trail that’ll lead to success. Even when your partner tries to push his chin up in front of Leonardo, you’re already wincing at what his demise will be shaped in.

Leo really loves cutting heads off.

A strong emphasis on loves.

You swallow, eyes flying anywhere but the rapidly growing puddle of blood that approaches your feet. Even then, your eyes stray towards the newest leader of the Foot, Leo punctures his katana into the head, a crude skewer as he lifts it and examines the severed body part as if answers lie in the gush of blood that falls. Those dark blue eyes move on you, you swallow.

He walks over to you, blade in hand, blood tap tapping onto the ground “Your information” Leo’s voice is weightless, bored almost. You motion towards your pocket, the crumpled up note with a poorly drawn map the key to your salvation. Leo reaches his hand in and you’re still, stiff and frightened by the intrusive touch and his proximity.

He pulls the note out and examines, the ghastly expression of horror on the decapitated head so close you can smell the coppery scent. “Can you get more of this? The coordinantes?” You crane your neck to look at him, his stature imposing. “Yeah, I’m your girl for that shit, swear on it” He flicks the blade and the sound of the head rolling makes your stomach flip flop along with it.

You feel the tip of a bloodied katana on your chin.

“Don’t make me cut off such a pretty head, hm?” You want to nod but the blade digs and Leo’s mouth twitches in something akin to a smirk. The small cut to your chin stings, but you wonder why other parts of you vibrate.

The danger, the adrenaline, Leonardo.

_____________

Your next meeting doesn’t quell your nervousness. Leonardo is an impressive sight as always and it’s imposible to ignore that maybe you won’t make it out alive every time you both meet. Unless proven useful, which you take to heart. You bring all sorts of information, names, rumors, possible gangs wanting to take him on, the police. Any word you heard in regards to him.

“It’s possible they might try to meet you half way, catch you off guard” The warehouse is chilly, that fall weather starting to hit but Leo’s unfazed, the black tails of his mask move with the gust of winds. “Stupid of them to assume that” The second floor of the warehouse seems to be his own, leaving the rest of the crew bellow. He sits on the windowsill, cloth running up his katana, it had been bloody when you were brought in.

“I’m just repeating what I heard, I’m sure you’re more than adept to take them on” You stick your hands in the pockets of your jacket, you’d been frisked not like you were stupid enough to bring a weapon to this.

But then again, the more he polished that sword, the more you wished you had something.

“What else have you heard? Any word on Karai?” The woman in question had appeared to have disappeared into thin air after Shredder’s death and Leo taking command of the Foot soldiers. Wether she planned to reclaim what was hers or if she had simply quit was beyond you and anybody else. “Nothing on her, she might’ve skipped town or the country” You offered, eyes following the sword as Leo placed it on a nearby table.

“She strike you as the type? A coward?” He walked over towards you, his expression so eerily unreadable.

Yet, your eyes wandered over him. Over muscle and scales. Overs scars and bruises. That illogical part of your brain making you wonder and fantasize, because fear could be exciting.

There was something exciting about Leonardo.

“Well?” He was in front of you, looking down at you. It hits you how minuscule you must look to him.

“Probably plotting? You did murder her dad” You find his eyes, you swallow.

“Well he murdered mine. Eye for an eye...” He spoke gently almost.

“Makes the whole world go blind” You finished for him, and maybe that was stepping on a line but you noticed the corner of his mouth twitch up. For a brief second you catch his eyes scan yours, move across your face and settle at your lips.

Passed your neck, towards your breasts.

He turns around and grabs his sword.

“One week, find more info on her, your pay is downstairs” You’re dismissed and before you process anything a Foot soldier is ushering you downstairs and shoving an envelope in your hands.

That night you dream about what your lips might feel like against reptilian scales.

—————————

Karai’s whereabouts are practically unheard off. If there was a trail it had run cold months back and judging from the word of mouth being passed around there wasn’t anything sustainable. You dig up anything and everybody. Every dirt bag with an agenda, ex Foot soldiers, opposing gangs, the mob and just about anybody you have in your radar.

It yields nothing.

You can’t return to Leo with nothing.

Rubbing a hand across your tired face, you make your way through the back alleys of the city. Your one week was coming up and all you had were weak possibilities and baseless assumptions. In your line of business enough information to create doubt can go a long way, but this was conspiracy levels bad.

So you thought and you thought quick.

Pulling out your phone you called him first. Perhaps a dumb move but at the same time you figured it showed that you were trying. You asked if the two of you could meet, the line briefly went quiet before your text tone startled you. He hung up and you were met with the address of a building in Brooklyn and to go up to the roof.

To say you were scared was to put it lightly.

You were shitting yourself.

The roof of the building had a green house which seemed unused but it looked like it was being kept up with the vegetation still green and alive. Your hand made for the door knob but something you could only name as a sixth sense made you freeze.

Leo was there, the shift in the atmosphere was impossible to deny. Your turned and blinked.

Wherever he had been, it must’ve been worse. There was blood on him, a fresh gash by his arm and the steady drip drip of blood hitting the concrete. “Jesus are you...?” You knew he was ok, but whomever had been on the receiving end of this had it by far much worse.

“Inside, go inside” He motioned for the green house and you did. Your eyes scanned around hoping to find something to help with. There was a nest of sorts in a corner, several blankets and cushions, a table and a chair amidst the plants. You found what you were looking for near the bonsais, a shelf with a box of first aid. Leo went towards a counter with a basin and a jar of water, he went about cleaning the gash on his arm.

You approached him with the box of first aid, blue eyes were cautious as you took out antiseptic and gauze. Leo had turned to face you, giving you more room to work on his arm as you bandaged it. “You alright?” Your voice held hesitation, Leo’s questioning gaze turned to amusement. “I’m fine, what I want to know is why you wanted to meet” You finished bandaging him and took a step back.

Pick your words wisely, you thought with a slight shutter.

“Listen I’ve spoken with any and everyone who might have any clue but Karai is off the radar”Swallowing a lump in your throat you shrugged off your jacket, worry manifesting in heat. “I know this isn’t what you wanted and I’m really fucking good at my job but this bitch is either underground or who knows! Dead for all I know!” The exasperation and worry was clear as day, he either took this the right way or the wrong way.

Wrong way being you end up pushed off this very building, at best ironically enough.

Leo swallowed the information, clearly bouncing it around his head. The dry specks of blood scattered across his green flesh. An odd silence fell amongst you both and even when he rose in all his imposing glory you kept your eyes focused on him. Getting a read on that cold calculated gaze of his was hard enough.

Your throat feels painfully dry once he has you backed up against the wall. Something about dying alone with not even an audience to witness it didn’t sit too right with you.

But then again, Leo’s large hand gripped your neck, nothing too tight but enough to alert you to its presence. Those blue eyes looked haunted but just beneath that laid something you couldn’t just place your finger on. The tips of his fingers lightly caressed you, one of them fascinated with your quickened pulse. You can’t blink, unsure what may happen and when he dips down your adrenaline makes you flinch.

Leo halts his movement, his blood feels like it’s pumping loudly enough for you to hear. Wide eyed you lean up instead and ghost your lips against his, Leo sighs through his nostrils and it stays that way. A pull but not enough of a push because there’s still fear in your blood and a hesitation that you can’t put a name to from Leonardo.

Your phone going off startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin and to a fraction of your dismay Leo takes a step away. One of your contacts name flashed on the screen which meant there could still be some good news. Your turned away to speak, pulling a marker from your pocket you write down some information on your forearm. It’s a quick conversation and once done you turn to see Leo putting together his gear again.

You bit your lip, whatever was about to happen would just have to take a back seat. ‘Fucking coward’ you can’t help but think about yourself.

“One of my guys says he might have it on good authority that Karai is still here” You watch him turn his head to listen, even if he’s got his back/shell to you. “Well?” He pushes while adjusting his swords.

“He says she might’ve just met up with...with one of your brothers” Tense doesn’t even begin to explain what his body did, the mear mention of his family was a sore subject and you had been warned to not even attempt to open that can of worms. Swallowing and feeling your throat stick from how dry it felt you see him pull out a key and toss it to you. “Send me that address, you’ll get your money at the warehouse” You barely manage to catch the key to the greenhouse, but still you raise a brow at the offering.

“Come back here when you’re ready” Is all he says about it, confusion is painted on your face but when he moved to leave he takes a moment to hold your chin. “Don’t make me regret this” He says and before you can attempt to ask he’s gone.

You stay there, twenty minutes or so in nothing but your thoughts and his words swimming around your mind.

Feeling heat between your legs and a lick of frustration consuming you.

_____________

Two weeks you contemplate the key in your pocket.

Two weeks you let your thumb hover over his number but never press down.

For two weeks you find your pillow between your legs, trying to reach the sensation he managed with just his body close to yours.

But nothing.

It’s not enough.

New York is covered in rain as you make your way through the sea of people. Regardless of the many umbrellas you still get soaked and by the time you’re up on that roof, hand digging out the key to the green house you’re drenched.

Inside you shake off the excess and remove your jacket. The cold hits you and you can’t help but feel silly that you’re here, maybe this is his way of taking you out, you’re not needed anymore by now you assume.

You turn on the few lanterns that are scattered through the room. Kicking off your boots you rub your arms and shiver, flesh breaking out into goosebumps as the door creaks open once more.

Leo’s equally drenched when he steps through, the black tails of his mask sticking to him. The two of you just stare at one another, steady drips of water and the rain outside picking up more strengh.

Carefully you watch him begin take apart his gear, leaving his katanas by the door. He’s trying to keep your apprehension at low levels, his steps slow and soft. You let your arms fall to your sides and as your heart tries to hammer out of your chest you don’t flinch this time, even as his hands go for the hem of your long sleeve. You take a deep breath as his eyes wander across your now exposed flesh. The fascination goes straight to your core, feeling yourself warm up as his hands rest on your stomach.

With trembling hands you unbutton your jeans and step out of them and the inhale Leo takes as he closes his eyes makes you reach for him. He holds you against him and sighs, large frame shuddering at the feel of your skin against his reptilian one. He buries his snout against your neck, breathing harder as his hands run all over your back and rear. Leo grips and kneads the flesh and a groan escapes against your ear that makes your wrap your arms around his neck. He feels the softness of your breasts against his chest, he’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t been dreaming about them for months now.

You can’t wrap your head around it but he feels just as you fantasized about him. The roughness of his flesh, the edges of his shell and god his teeth nip at your neck with a growl. Wiggling out of his hold you start to undo whatever else needs to be taken off and Leo can’t help but smirk at your frenzied movements. He allows you to undress him, he’s gutted when your hands land on his waist as you start to kneel before him.

“No, no, kiss me first” He cups your face and presses his mouth against yours and that’s it, you’re done for, you’re hooked and can’t go back now. His kiss is possessive, forceful and it drowns every thought in your brain.

You pressed against one of the tables with the many Bonsais when Leo’a tongue slithers into your awaiting mouth. He sits you down on the table and nudges your legs apart to fit himself in between them, you crane your neck up losing yourself in his kiss. He can taste rain water, feels the sweat and rain mingle on your skin. God he wants to run his tongue all over you, eat you whole if he could.

It feels like forever when he pulls away, reluctance in his body. Blue eyes search into your e/c eyes, he wants to see something maybe your fear so he denies himself falling into this rabbit hole. Your hands press against his plastron and gently you run your nails down the hard plates, you shake your head fascinated by the texture. He’s rough but strong, a marvel of a species.

With some difficulty you managed to push your underwear off and spread yourself again for his viewing pleasure. “I want you,” You nodded, eyes falling to the hard length between his legs. Leo wraps a large hand around it and pumps slowly, body shivering at the sensation. “God I fucking want you so bad” You feel him come back to you, mouth on yours in yet another harsh kiss.

The tip of his cock nudges against your wet heat and he bites your lip at the sensation. Leo pushes into you so frustratingly slow, even as his girth stretches you to a point you’ve never been before. You want him inside of you now, and Leo couldn’t agree more. He bottoms out inside of you with a lengthy groan, head thrown back in ecstasy. “You feel... so fucking good” He growls out through gritted teeth, hips picking up speed as you wantonly take him in. You press your lips to his chest and moan with each slow but pronounced thrust of his hips.

His hand finds itself at the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair to keep your gaze on his. The slight tug burns so good and you can’t help but keep your pleasure filled gaze on his own. Lips parted you let him rock into you steadily until his thrust start to slam into you. The sensation spreads all over your body, little shocks of pleasure rocking your body.

“Mine, you’re going to be mine and only mine” He voices lowly, a threat laced in his passion. You’re too far gone to speak, nodding aimlessly at his every word, moans falling from your lips. “Nobody will own you like I do, nobody will touch you, Y/N? You understand? I’m making you mine” He pressed his forehead to yours, lost in this feeling.

“Fuck yes, yours, I’m gonna be all yours” You lick his lips and when he reaches a hand between both your bodies your mind goes blank. A vicious shudder overtakes you as you muffle a scream against his jaw. He fills you up so good and so warm with a strange vibration that sounds like an endless growl. Each rope he pumps into you making his eyes roll back. You’re shattered against, limp and raw throat from the scream that leaves your mouth.

He watches your come down, hand against your cheek, thumb running across your lips. When he pulls out just enough to watch his essence cascade out of your pretty little hole, he pumps himself back into you. His eyes say it all, from here on out whatever your life was up to this point is over and done with. Leo nuzzles you still lazily pumping himself in you, blissful to the little tremors your cunt produces around his member making him harden once again. Picking you up, bodies still joined, he makes his way to the nest of blankets on the floor.

You hold onto him, all you can do is hold onto him.

____________

It’s rather odd to be in this position. With an entire year that’s passed it never seems to feel normal, not that you’re complaining though.

Being in a position of power by proxy has its fucking fun rewards.

For example nobody in this city will ever contemplate taking you out. Unless they want a very pissed off Foot Leader to set fire to the city and maybe even the world. From opposite points to now standing at his side. No one is to address you as below them, or touch you or let alone breath the same air you do.

You can still hear the bones that were cracked when one particularly unruly Foot soldier made snide comment about you. Each crack of the mans arm being slowly twisted until his arm broke still rang in your ears to this day. Leo hadn’t flinched, hadn’t even scowled even as the twist turned to pulling the limb off.

He did in fact fuck you hard against the glass windows of the hotel suite he had you both in. The copper scent lingering on his scales, but enraptured with the heat enveloping his cock.

With the city at war everyone had began to run amok to do their own barbaric things. Each part of the city divided between gangs, mobs, mutants, police and civilians. You were out on active Foot duties, you were still free to do as you pleased but with protection and Leo demanded your whereabouts on the hour due to possibilities of abduction.

He knew you were a weakness.

But did he give a shit? Of course not. Let them try, he hasn’t needed an excuse for his tyrannical acts thus far, but if harm did ever befall you, you only wished you could witness what his methods would be to exact his revenge.

And he was so familiar with revenge after all.

You admire yourself in the full length mirror, examining the body that training under Leo has provided you. The mutant terrapin in question comes up from behind you and wraps his strong sculpted arms around your waist. You can’t help but smirk as he rest his chin a top your head. “We’re heading out in half an hour” He mumbles against your hair, enjoying the scent. You watch through the mirror as his hands rub up and cup your breast, with a sigh you rest against his strong build. “What’s on the agenda tonight? Purple dragons?” You feel him shake his head, fingers dipping inside the cups of your bra. “Mob,” Is his sole reply.

You bite your lip, gripping his wrists. “We’ll be late” You try to muffle a moan as he tweaks a nipple, he grinds against your backside. “I’m killing them regardless, and I much rather have the scent of your cunt on my hands while I listen to their boring excuses for parley” Your knees buckled when you felt his hand slither inside your underwear, finger already parting your lips and humming as he feels how wet you already are.

You feel his other hand wrap around your neck, keeping you upright and your gaze on the mirror as his finger dips into your welcoming heat.

He engulfs your every thought, every sensation; and what’s the fate of the world when you’ve got him? He chose you just as much as you chose him. You’ve never considered yourself good, scumbag street rat who just happened to make a living amongst the other scumbags. But this? With Leonardo and the trail of bloodied heads he’s left behind, it’s hard not to be excited to see gasoline be poured on the city. He trails his lips to the shell of your ear and you can’t help but grin.

“Mine” He says.

Burn everything.

[switcheddestiniesau]

Allow me to show you this sorta old art of an AU I haven’t fully made yet.. still in the progress but! I noticed there was no au with this name (double checked on the internet) so I decided to use this name for my own AU Mobiletale!!… It is a glitched program app created by humans that is banned but somehow got access to your phone disguised as an app has hacked into your mobile phone as some sort of game app.. which you/frisk happen to download for the heck of it.. the next thing you knew.. you were in the game!.. filled with monsters trapped within it.. discovering the secrets to why they were trapped in here for so long.. and find a way to free them from this app.. the one that you see is named Sams.. similar to sans but living in the mobile game he is sometimes considered a hacker as he tries to find other code from the outside judging them before they can proceed..

This one here was fanart from someone and IS NOT MINE… it was from an artist from a different platform but just so you know.. they made fanart of it and allowed me to show it all to you!.. hope you enjoy these while I progress this AU further..

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

Alrighty, so this is an idea I've been having about the bartender for a while: if you remember sans' workshop, I actually thought about the idea of sans being gone, and grillby finding the key and beginning to explore the skeletons' past.

Just a random idea, and I also love how you write your stories, I can literally imagine the scenario happening❤.

Oh, I really like this one! I hope you don’t mind that I went in the angst direction with this. It turned out to be a little long and might not have been exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you like it anyway! Also thank you so much for the compliment, I’m thrilled that you can enjoy it.

I Never Knew You. I Never Will.

Word count: 2951 Warnings: Genocide route and all that entails Summary: Grillby can’t find Sans after the evacuation. When he finds himself in Sans’s lab, his world comes crashing down around him.

Preface: This takes place near the end of a genocide run. The remaining monsters have been evacuated to the True Lab by Dr. Alphys. Determined to avenge his brother, Sans left the safety of the lab to judge Frisk.

Grillby felt like he was floating as he made his way through the crowd of monsters around him. This had to be a nightmare. It couldn’t be real. He watched from outside himself as he searched the crowd for familiar faces, stumbling as he was pushed aside by a monster rushing to greet their spouse. People were calling out for each other, sobbing as they found their family members or wailing as they realized their children hadn’t made it. It couldn’t be real.

It couldn’t be.

He couldn’t see any of the Snowdin guards. Where were they?

No, he couldn’t understand, this wasn’t real.

He couldn’t find his niece. He heard someone screaming her name above the crowd and realized it was him. Where was she? Where were Grillby’s brothers, his parents? He hadn’t seen them in so long. They had to be okay.

It wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be real.

It was.

Reality came crashing down. Grillby snapped back into awareness and choked, sickened by the lingering smell of dust as sheer panic gripped him. His friends were dead. His family was dead. They’d been fine just yesterday, how could they be dead? What kind of monster- no, what thing could do this? He struggled to breathe as he felt his whole body seizing up. It was all he could do not to puke, head spinning as he leaned against the nearest wall. He couldn’t breathe, his vision was spotty, was he dying? Was this what it felt like, for your soul to break apart?

Grillby sank to his knees, trails of steam pouring from the corners of his eyes as he sobbed. Everyone he loved was dead.

No. Wait. He was forgetting someone.

Where was Sans?

The fire elemental jerked his head up, frantically scanning the crowd. Sans had been the one to come for him and tell him to evacuate to Hotland. He’d taken Grillby’s hand and told him there was no time to explain. They’d taken a shortcut to Alphys’s lab, skipping Waterfall to be sure Grillby wouldn’t get hurt by the rivers and rain. Sans told him a human was attacking every monster in sight. He told him to stay put, then left to help with the rest of the evacuation. It had only been after the fact that Grillby realized Sans had been wearing Papyrus’s scarf, and it was covered in dust.

Alphys’s underground lab had quickly filled with frightened monsters. The remaining members of the royal guard had spread the word and were getting people out as fast as they could. Sans could only take one person at a time using his shortcuts, but he still managed to get dozens of people out. Despite it all, they weren’t fast enough. The human was destroying everything in its path. They got to Waterfall, Hotland, and the Core faster than everyone could get out. Survivors started showing up covered in lingering dust.

Grillby forced himself to his feet. Sans had to be nearby. All the survivors had been moved to safety, hidden underground. There was no reason for Sans to still be searching. There was no reason for him to be anywhere but by Grillby’s side, safe and sound. Where was he?

The bartender spotted Alphys handing out blankets and walked over, desperation gripping his soul as he stepped in front of her. “Dr. Alphys, have you seen Sans anywhere? He was helping with the evacuation. He should be back by now.”

Alphys stopped in her tracks. “H-he isn’t here?” She looked around, nearly as worried by the news as Grillby. “He s-said he was taking a- a shortcut home. He was o-o-only going to grab some- some more blankets and food.”

Dread enveloped Grillby’s soul, threatening to break it. No. No, this couldn’t be happening. “Why would you let him go back out there?!”

“The h-human is, um, in New Home,” Alphys stuttered out in her defense. “Sans c-c-can teleport. He doesn’t h-have to get, um, anywhere n-near the human. It should b-b-be safe by now. I’m sure, um, h-he’s probably safe. He’ll be back any moment now! I’m s-sure of it!”

She didn’t sound sure enough for Grillby’s taste. He pushed past her, continuing his search as he went from room to room. Sans should have been back. What if he’d exhausted himself and couldn’t teleport again? What if the human doubled back, searching for survivors, and found Sans?

A flash of red caught Grillby’s eye. A long piece of red fabric was left draped on one of the medical beds. Papyrus’s scarf.

Grillby pulled out his phone, shakily picking the dusty scarf up. Surely Sans had his phone on him, right? The phone rang… and rang… and rang… 

“Congrats, you’ve reached the voicemail of Sans the skeleton. Picking up the phone is too much work right now, so I probably won’t answer if you call me back. You can leave a message, but I probably won’t check my voicemail either. Just text me. Or call Papyrus. See ya.”

The fire monster wanted to cry. He called again and again and again. It went to voicemail every time. He tried texting him, begging Sans to answer…

But nobody came.

Grillby was moving towards the elevator of the lab before he truly comprehended what he was doing. Alphys saw him and rushed after him, grabbing his sleeve. “W-wait! Where are you going?”

“You said Sans was at home, didn’t you?” Grillby answered quietly. “I’m going to find him.”

“You c-can’t! It’s not safe-!”

Grillby turned around, his flames burning hotter as he snapped at her. “But it was safe for Sans to leave, was it?! Don’t be so hypocritical! If you’re truly concerned about the safety of monsters, let me go!”

Alphys fell quiet, trembling a bit. She let go of Grillby’s sleeve and hunched over. She hated being yelled at. Grillby immediately felt guilty, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I shouldn’t have raised my voice. I just-”

“N-no.” Alphys wiped at her eyes and adjusted her glasses. “You’re right. I sh-shouldn’t have let Sans go. Let, um, let me find a r-rain jacket for you. It will be dangerous for y-you to get through- through Waterfall on your own.”

Grillby was quiet for a moment, then just nodded, letting her leave. She came back moments later with a rain jacket, rubber boots, and an umbrella. The fire monster took them and thanked the scientist, heading towards the elevator. He didn’t say goodbye. In the situation they’d found themselves in, a farewell felt like a curse.

Grillby managed to make it through Waterfall mostly unscathed, folding his umbrella as he walked into Snowdin. The place felt like a ghost town, every window dark and every home abandoned. He tried not to think about it as he approached the skeleton brothers’ house. The door was standing open, filling Grillby with dread. He choked down another wave of panic as he stepped inside the dark living room. “Sans?” Grillby called out, voice feeling muffled by the oppressive, eerie silence. “Sans, are you here? ...god, please be here.” He pulled out his phone again as he walked up the stairs, dialing Sans’s number and waiting.

A default ringtone went off in Sans’s room.

The bartender should’ve felt relieved, but if anything, the sound scared him more than the silence. If Sans was here, why didn’t he answer the phone? Respond to the texts? Grillby tried the door and found it locked, struggling with the knob despite knowing it was useless. “Sans! Are you there?! Please, answer me!”

But nobody came.

The panic Grillby had been holding back consumed him. The fire that made up his body grew as he stepped back, leaning against the railing before moving forward and kicking down the door. 

The room was empty. Sans’s phone was ringing on the bed, abandoned.

For the second time that day, Grillby found himself sobbing, kneeling on the floor as he desperately tried to force himself to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. He couldn’t have lost Sans, too. He didn’t even say goodbye. He didn’t even get to tell him…

Dizzy with exhaustion, Grillby looked up at the phone again. On the bed next to it was a piece of paper, folded around something. Dragging himself to his feet, the bartender stumbled over, sinking to the ground again as he picked it up. A key fell into his lap. It was small and silver, and it looked old. The note it had been wrapped in had a drawing of the house, with an arrow pointing to something in the back. As Grillby’s gaze drifted down to the base of the drawing, he choked on another sob.

Hey Grillbz,

If you’re reading this, you probably did something stupid like go to my house by yourself with a homicidal psychopath on the loose. Don’t worry, I get it. You did this last time, too. Anyway, this go around, I’m not gonna be here when you show up. 

That key you’ve got goes to a basement behind the house. Go in there. You’ll figure out for yourself where I’ve gone.

When you do, please don’t follow me.

I love you, Grillby. I’m sorry.

~Sans

Grillby read the note over and over, crying as the implications sank in. Whatever Sans was doing, it didn’t sound like he planned to come back. Well, if he thought that Grillby wasn’t going to go after him, he was dead wrong. But first… the bartender had to figure out where Sans was going.

It had taken a minute to get the door behind the house to open. The lock was old, and it stuck for a moment while Grillby jiggled the key to get it in. It finally swung open with an echoing creak, light from outside barely able to illuminate the inside of what looked to be a small home lab of some kind.

Grillby stepped inside, drawn to the large machine in the back. The damage to the odd machine and the char marks on the floor did nothing for Grillby’s anxiety, but the lack of dust around it at least assured him that it probably wasn’t the dangerous thing Sans had been alluding to. The fire monster stepped away from it, moving towards the desk and the piles of paper there. The first thing that caught his eye was a drawer slightly ajar, something inside reflecting the light that Grillby gave off. He opened it the rest of the way, immediately recognizing the badge inside as he picked it up. “This… This is the insignia of the royal scientist. Why would he have this?” Grillby mumbled out loud. Now that he was thinking about it, why would Sans have any of this? It didn’t make any sense. Sans was a sentry, and he had been the entire time Grillby knew him. The skeleton had never mentioned living in Hotland or having a scientific career. The bartender was starting to question how well he knew his best friend, setting the badge back in the drawer and turning to the papers.

The first page was written in some sort of font that Grillby couldn’t understand. Looking at it made his hurt, so he moved it to the side, skipping over it. The next page was thankfully readable. It described something called ‘DT’, and the effects it could have on a monster’s magic if infused properly. The records of the experiments had been partially burned, but most of what Grillby could read was too complicated for him to understand. He never thought Sans was dumb, but the complicated equations were far beyond anything Grillby had seen before. He hadn’t guessed Sans had that level of intelligence, or put that level of work into any one project.

The last few pages had the most burns out of all of them. Some sections were written in that headache-inducing language, with a lot of the notes Grillby could read seemingly added later. It looked like a comparison between the effectiveness of multiple attacks before and after the use of DT. The last few notes made Grillby burn lower, nearly going cold.

In conclusion, DT can be used to temporarily increase stamina and allow a monster to use their magic more effectively, summoning attacks and creating patterns like nothing seen before. However, drawing that level of magic from a monster’s soul can cause their soul to become unstable, tearing it apart. A monster could not withstand the effects of DT long-term without turning to dust.

I could handle it, just for a little while. If it came down to it, I could use the machine on myself and keep the kid from hurting anyone else.

Papyrus… Alphys… Grillby… 🕈︎✋︎☠︎☝︎👎︎✋︎☠︎☝︎💧︎… I’m so sorry.

“No,” Grillby whispered, his eyes widening in panic. “No, no no no no please tell me you didn’t- Sans-”

Sans was going to fight the human.

No matter the outcome, Sans was going to turn to dust.

Grillby ignored the sting of the rain as he sprinted through Waterfall. He didn’t have time to worry about his HP. Sans used that machine on himself. He’d managed to build it, surely he could reverse it if Grillby just reached him in time. His mind was reeling, trying to catch up with everything he learned. Sans had once been involved with the royal scientist. Was that how he knew Alphys? And what was with that strange handwriting? Why would Sans hide it from him? The rain didn’t bother Grillby this time, but he felt a sting in his soul as he realized just how little he knew about Sans. Everything he learned about him throughout their friendship… was it all a lie? Just a cover-up for whatever Sans had done in the past? It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense anymore.

Grillby’s footsteps echoed in the corridors of New Home as he sprinted down the main path. Alphys had said that the human was in New Home somewhere, undoubtedly heading towards the castle. If Sans were to face them, it would be there. He only hoped he could reach him in time.

Sans fell backward as he felt the human’s blade slice through his ribcage. Looking down, he watched in distant shock as blood started to seep from the wound. He knew the whole battle had been pointless… Frisk would just load their save file each time they died, coming back over and over until they killed him… but it still felt so surreal. The fight was over. Sans lost.

“Heh… heh heh…” The skeleton laughed breathlessly to himself as he looked up. The human was expressionless, uncaring. How? How could they have so much apathy, after everyone they hurt?

It didn’t matter. Sans forced himself to his feet, coughing as blood dripped from his mouth. It would be fine. Frisk would reset, everyone would come back, and then they’d die again. The warm golds and oranges of the hall began to blur together as the bloodloss made Sans woozy and he stumbled, leaning against one of the pillars. If he closed his eyes…

He could almost pretend he was sitting at a familiar bar, the bartender smiling at him as he cracked jokes and drank from a ketchup bottle.

“Welp. I’m going to Grillby’s,” Sans said weakly, tears filling his eyes.

“Papyrus… do you want anything?”

Footsteps echoed in the final hallway as Grillby ran, desperation gripping his soul. He almost ran right past it. He skidded to a stop as his mind processed what he’d seen. His mind went empty and numb, and he turned around, walking a few paces back the way he’d come.

At the base of one of the pillars was a blue jacket, sitting in a pile of dust.

Grillby screamed.

No. No, it couldn’t end like this. The fire elemental fell to his knees and picked up Sans’s jacket, wailing as he held it to his chest. When he did- God, he was covered in dust. Sans’s dust. The thought made him drop the jacket and turn away, gagging and throwing up until there was nothing left.

Grillby wrapped his arms around himself, the humidity in the room increasing as he sobbed. He thought of Sans’s smile, his jokes and laughter, the way he always winked at the end of a bad pun. Was any of that even real? Did Sans enjoy being around Grillby, or was it all a façade? Grief and betrayal settled heavily over the bartender, threatening to drown him. He dry-heaved again, choking as he desperately fought for air.

I love you, Grillby.

Grillby... I’m so sorry.

The words washed over him, pushing those feelings away. It didn’t matter. Whoever Sans had been before, it didn’t change what the two of them had. Grillby wouldn’t let it.

Grillby picked up Sans’s jacket as he stood, shaking the dust off and putting it on. The heat in the room became sweltering as the fire monster was filled with rage. That human... that human had taken so much from him. His friends, his family... the skeleton he loved. They couldn’t get away with it. He wouldn’t let them.

The fire monster walked towards the end of the hall, eyes burning with murderous rage. That human was going to pay for what they-

The world stuttered.

Grillby hummed to himself as he wiped down his bar, getting ready to open for the day. Hm, that was strange. Lifting the cloth, he noticed that it had quickly gotten fairly dirty. There was dust all over Grillby’s hands, coming off on the towel. He shrugged to himself as he wiped them off and got another towel.

It was probably nothing.

Thanks for reading! This one accidentally turned out kind of long. It’s pretty stream-of-consciousness, but I’m too busy to edit it today and I’m too eager to post it to wait.

Reblog or leave me a comment telling me what you think! Asks are open if you would like to leave a prompt for me, and let me know if you want to be on my Undertale fic taglist!

[smells-like-mettaton]

Hi! If you're still doing the fic prompt drabbles, can I suggest no. 2 - in the snow for Soriel?

Abstract Skullpture

Rating: G Word Count: 783 Read on AO3: here

---

Sans’s tailbone was starting to fall asleep. His he was pretty resistant to the cold, but there was only so long he could be literally buried in snow before it started to chill him to the bone.

It was for a good cause, though. Toriel was the only one who had a chance of one-upping his bro’s snow-sculpting skills.

“It is too bad we cannot leave you like this,” Toriel said with a grin as she packed the snow around him. “You would make an excellent Gyftmas decoration.”

Sans chuckled. “It’d probably look more festive without my skull sticking out the top.”

“Nonsense.” She kissed his cheekbone, returning some warmth to him. “Your sans-some face brings plenty of holiday cheer.”

“Sure. If you’re thinking of that human holiday in October, maybe.”

She laughed, returning to shape the snow around his middle. It was hard to view her artistry from this angle, but he was pretty sure she was giving snow-him abs.

“Really going for some ab-stract art, huh?” He raised his browbone.

That joke made her howl so hard, she fell back in the snow with her arms clutched around her middle.

“It is perfectly ab-curate,” she finally wheezed back. “You muscle be seeing things!”

“Oh geez.” He fought a cackle of his own. If he busted a metaphorical gut now, all her hard work would crumble around him. “You really know how to pec a good joke, Tori.”

Her wheezes turned to bleats, until Papyrus grew concerned enough to shout from where he and Frisk were working on their own masterpiece.

“OH NO! FRISK, WE’VE INCAPACITATED THEM WITH OUR INCREDIBLE ARTISTIC TALENT! QUICK! TRY TO BE LESS AMAZING!!”

Sans couldn’t see him from where he was trapped inside the snow-sans, but he called out anyway.

“Yep. You art to take it easy on us, bro. You’re gonna give Tori a art attack.”

“SANS! YOU CAN’T USE THE SAME JOKE TWICE IN A ROW! THAT’S ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE PUNMANSHIP!!”

Toriel rolled back into a sitting position, though she still shook with laughter. Snow clung to the ends of her ears.

“Yes, he will have to be punished,” she said with a grin.

“UGH!! IT’S A GOOD THING WE’RE HAVING A SNOWSKELETON BUILDING COMPETITION, AND NOT A HORRIBLE JOKE COMPETITION! BECAUSE YOU TWO WOULD WIN SO EASILY, IT WOULD TAKE THE “TEST” OUT OF CONTEST! NYEH HEH HEH!!”

Sans snorted. For all of Papyrus’s pretended annoyance, he liked a good pun better than any of them.

“We are still going to win,” Toriel asserted. A fire entered her eyes—it was the same competitive gleam she wore when playing board games, or baking for school activities. “Your brother is very good, but we still have the superior skullpture.”

Sans grinned, wishing he could fall to pieces laughing the way she had. It was hard to calm the elated rattling of his bones.

“You tell ‘em, Tori. There’s snow way we can lose.”

“EVEN SNOWDRAKE TELLS BETTER PUNS THAN THAT!”

Toriel laughed at it anyway. Then she got back to work on his exaggerated snow body.

The arms weren’t sculped; she used a pair of thick branches, with her red oven mitts acting as hands. And of course she didn’t have to carve a face. That was the one part of the “sculpture” that Sans could contribute.

“Perfect.” Toriel dusted off her hands before putting her mittens back on.

“Hope you still think I look this good without all the padding.” He winked, though it was only half a joke. It was hard not to feel insecure every once in a while when he was dating the hottest monster to come out of the Underground.

A light blush glowed under her fur. “You do not look ‘good.’ You look sans-sational.”

He gave a warm chuckle at that. She always knew the way to his heart: between his third and fourth ribs.

Nah, through incredibly cheesy puns.

“Heh. Not as Tori-fic as you.”

“OUR SNOWSKELETON IS FINISHED, IF YOU’RE BOTH DONE WITH YOUR MEDIOCRE WORDPLAY-BASED FLIRTING!”

Sans and Toriel shared a grin. At the same time, Frisk tugged on the hem of Papyrus’s crop top.

“Aren’t we forgetting something?” They signed.

“HMM? THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER FORGETS TO REMEMBER! MY MIND IS A STEEL TRAP, LOCKED WITH A PUZZLE OF SMALLER STEEL TRAPS!”

“Did you remember to find someone to judge the contest?”

Papyrus blinked.

“ERR… I DID! IN FACT, I’M REMEMBERING RIGHT NOW!”

He ran off, probably to grab whichever neighbor was lucky enough to be outside.

Meanwhile, Sans smiled from inside his snow cocoon. His tailbone might be getting chilled again, but his soul never felt warmer.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 2 of 3)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

When you're done freshening up, dinner's already underway. The scent of vegetables and broth hits your nose, and the cold temperature left behind by the storm brings forth an additional hint as to what the monster's cooking up for dinner. You try to stay soundless as you sneak off to the kitchen and stand behind him, looking over his shoulder when you make it there.

"I can tell you're here, pal," Sans says, chuckling. 

He turns to you with a spoon held out in his hand. There's a sample of soup on it, waiting to be tested. The scent reminds you of having missed lunch break due to the stormy weather, with the hours it lasted bringing forth your boss's decision to call the rest of your shift off. You were supposed to be at your last meeting by now, but the rain and wind had proven to be superior, canceling all plans. Less work meant less pay, though you try to refrain yourself from worrying too much about that right now. "Taste it." He offers it out to you, still waiting. You, on the other hand, take a while to do anything, overthinking the situation as you then debate on whether to grab the spoon or taste it right off his hand. The first option had the risk of you brushing hands with the monster and spilling the soup in the process, yet tasting it right off his hand was almost unthinkable to do. 

Another thought pops into your mind, and that's whether it was fine to trust the skeleton by tasting the food and giving him the benefit of the doubt about it not being tampered with. Though you knew him for a few months now, it's still impossible not to acknowledge a possibility like that one. If a man you'd known for so many years had ended up leaving you, only to make a scene like yesterday's when trying to get back with you, who's to say a stranger with customs far different from yours wouldn't do something similar -- or worse?

You remind yourself of your main and original task: confronting him and the rest of the monsters over the choices they made back at the Underground, regardless of how charming and kind they were being with you currently. Sans was no less of an exception. This wasn't only for Frisk's safety and their overall state of well-being, but for your reputation as their parent -- and for your peace of mind, too.

You figure you've taken too long based on how the skeleton backs the spoon away.

His grin widens, and he then sips the contents off the spoon, leaving it empty. "I promise it ain't poisoned." He gives his back to you as he goes to wash the spoon, offering it to you after it's been cleaned. "You can taste it now." Sans moves aside, creating space for you to step forward and scoop a bit of the soup still bubbling in the pot.

Just as you're about to eat it though, he says, "I'm not the best cook around, so go ahead and lemme know if it tastes funny." 

A smile forms on your face when you hear that, captivated by the idea of him having no clue how to begin cooking, and even more considering he was at your home instead of his. If it was often difficult for beginners to cook in the familiarity of their own home, you can't imagine how it must feel doing that at another person's place. For a moment, you wish you could've seen him in the process of cooking, an opportunity you'd lost while you went off to shower and change.

When you taste it, what's missing drops into your thoughts; years of having cooked at home reveal the capability of identifying that quickly. You consider the suggestion and confirm what the soup's lacking when you clean up the spoon and take a second sample off the pot. "It's good," you say, setting it aside. "Just needs a bit of salt and more time to stew. The rest is fine."

"Thanks," he replies, hands going back to his pockets. "Paps wants to improve his cooking, so I figured I've gotta better mine some more before I teach 'im anything."

Again, your mind finds itself in a conflict. While it's charmed by the thoughtfulness of that comment, it's also clouded by the morose reminder of why you'd asked him to stay for dinner in the first place. To distract yourself, you add the missing ingredient to the soup and walk with Sans to the couch while it finishes boiling.

It feels strange to sit so far apart from each other, but he doesn't close off the distance, nor do you.

You prop a leg over the other and rest a hand over your knee, bouncing the one on the floor when you lack anything more to say. Your thoughts scramble around as you try to find a way to make the situation less awkward. When you glance back at him, you see it's something he also seems to want to end; your gaze meets with his when you both decide to look at each other's side -- synchronizing.

He shifts closer and you do the same, continuing until your hands touch.

Almost immediately, you pull back, yet your gaze remains locked with his, eyes drifting down to his teeth. Even as he gets nearer, you stay put, lost in your thoughts and the risky scenario unfolding. Your brain and heart scream at you to stop; your body -- conversely -- refuses to move out of its current spot and rebels by inching closer to him, until you're near enough to catch the scent of the only soap brand you often bought for showering: soft-scented, cheap, and antibacterial. It's strange to catch that aroma from someone other than yourself. Frisk preferred using a different kind, making the situation much more intimate than you would like it to feel.

You grab his hand again as he leans into you, only stopping himself when your back presses against the armrest. Then, he pulls his hand back and uses both to hold your shoulders and corner you right into place. Height difference makes it so that his legs stay knelt on the couch while yours hang off it, these tucked aside as you focus on the matter at hand. He brings himself closer as he tries to level out your heights, grip on you staying. The sound of your heart and of the soup simmering by the kitchen are the only two other things to keep your mind occupied from what's happening; anticipation makes your breaths waver.

As if the situation couldn't get tense enough, the door of the living room opens and in barge two people, leaving you in an iced state. 

Rather than Frisk and Toriel, it's Frisk and Jerry who stand at the frame, one casting a look of betrayal at the monster while the other scrutinizes the scene. You try standing up, yet the monster's hands hold you back, body held up over yours -- still cornered. His face reveals nothing but conflict, an expression similar to your state of mind regarding how freely to act with him. 

Jerry leaves without a word and shuts the door too slow for it to even click. Frisk does the rest of the job for him by locking it, checking it again, and saying nothing themselves as they look at you in the eye and sign, "Can we talk later, ren?"

Still in a tough position, you nod once, lacking strength or words to say anything out loud. 

Sans doesn't move even as Frisk disappears into the hallway.

You see his irises falter when you look at him; his gaze isn't fully there. A few drops of sweat are present on his forehead, and you can feel his hands grow colder with each second. "...Are you okay, Sans?" you ask, voice faint. "I, um... I think the soup should be ready now."

You hope that's enough to snap him out of it, only to have that contradicted when his hold on you stays. "I'm sorry, (Y/N)," he mutters, huffing, "I failed you."

Sans moves back while you sit up straight; silence returns. He stands up and goes to turn off the stove, all done within more time than you would expect as he chooses to stay there a few more minutes, staring aimlessly at the kitchen's wares. You rest your hands on your knees, and you wait to see what he does next. There's not much you can do now that you were caught in a moment like that one, and there's no time to beat yourself up over it, either. All you can do's admit your blame where it best seemed fit, and that was in letting your inner voice act before you. You'd given it your strongest efforts to wait until your first year of college to date Jerry, only to then wait until you had a stabler job by your second semester to actually do anything more serious with him, and later waited six more years alone, watching as Frisk grew up in your care for most of the time, only to let your wants show through now of all times.

Excuse through excuse -- be it valid or not -- you'd restricted yourself at every moment you saw possible.

All that, and yet it still felt as if you hadn't done enough.

You wanted to be stronger. 

"Frisk told me 'bout your situation," Sans says, distracting you from your thoughts. "Not whatever happened with Jerry, but the way you see monsters, and well… me, in general." He turns away from the kitchen and sits back down on the couch, looking directly at you, though for wholly different reasons than earlier ago. His hand stays over yours, more comforting than sultry. Were you to know him for any longer, you would've assumed he's holding his soul on his sleeve, yet you remind yourself he's still a stranger. "Maybe this's my habits showin' up, but if I were to judge you based on what they told me, I'd say you're labeling yourself as the bad guy." His fingers intersect with yours, squeezing your palm. "Of all the things I've gotten to learn about you, this's one of the least you should be blamin' yourself for. If anything, you're not exactly the only one responsible for all that's been happenin' right now."

Your breaths grow tighter the longer you keep listening to him. Your heart's racing again, yet it's not the same as before. The monster lets your hand go, continuing with, "I can't tell you just how different we are from each other, and how much I wish I had a fraction the amount of willpower you and your kid have." He sighs; a hint of a smile shows despite the furrow in his gaze. "You've got some things right about me, and one of 'em's havin' chosen to act too late. Being unable to be there for those I care about, more specifically." His nose cavity flares as he lets out a stifled laugh, remorse showing in spite of his best efforts not to let that happen. "I hate who I used to be, and even now, I still feel like I could've done more. I wanna try harder, but I don't have a clue on where to start with that."

Sans tries to stand up, yet fails to. He heaves out a breath as he closes his eye sockets and surrenders himself back on the couch; he rests his elbow over the armrest and lets his chin rest on his hand. After that, he looks back to your side, an apologetic gaze showing as his grin widens and his crease deepens, the way his monster anatomy worked allowing him to further display similar movements to that of a human narrowing their gaze. "Keep taking credit where it's due, (Y/N). And when you've got somethin' you want to improve, try your best to overcome it." He pauses, and the crease in his gaze lessens as he casts a fonder look at you. "Not that you ain't tryin' already. But you're still takin' up too much of the blame, and not realizing when you can be free. It doesn't have to be with me -- or anybody else, for that matter -- but try to live life a lil' more. Don't just dwell on the past and restrain yourself from stuff you want to achieve for yourself. You should live for you, just as you're tryna live for others."

He closes his eye sockets and brings a hand to his face, rubbing his forehead until he lets out a hushed sigh. Then, he opens them and straightens up on his seat, hands resting on his lap. There's a brief pause, broken when he breathes in again, saying, "...So a skeleton and a single parent walk into a bar," he takes another stop, continuing with, "One bares their skin to the bartender, earnest down to the bone," his breath hitches, yet he composes himself quickly, "the other sits back, looks into the past, and then wonders why he's feelin' so lonely."

He huffs and ends it all with a chuckle and an attempt at covering his face away from your sight. You stop him with the brush of a hand, taking his cheekbone when he turns to you. His body's shaking and a few tears escape his sockets, these he tries to wipe with his free hand, only for you to hold him back by doing that yourself. Caught in the moment, you kiss one of them away, the expectance of a salty taste proven wrong as you receive a hint of sweetness instead -- reflecting the memory of your day with him at the pâtisserie. His shoulders shake as he chokes back a sob, breaking down. His hands grab your back, bringing you in for a hug as he seeks more comfort. In that embrace, you can feel how his rib cage rises and falls at quick intervals, slowing down when you hug him back and wait until he breaks it apart.

The wait's as long as you expect it for someone in his state; the weight of his breaths diminish as he calms down and lets you go.

"Sorry about that," he comments, chuckling. "Wasn't really myself for a moment there, huh?"

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[eldragon-x]

Justice Alphys AU

I’ve been wanting to rewrite my concept post about this AU/universe alteration since replaying the no mercy run has me wanting to change some details, add things and make it overall more comprehensible to read.

Justice Alphys takes place in an Aborted No Mercy run where the player kills everyone they can up until reaching the Hotland. It takes inspiration from the Queen Alphys ending following the route.

While Undyne hunts down Frisk in Waterfall, Alphys evacuates monsters into the true lab with Mettaton’s help. Seeing how drastic the situation is, Mettaton decides that he wants to do something about it in case something happens to Undyne, and asks Alphys for help. She hesitates at first but together, they plan to equip Mettaton with a powerful weapon and take out the human in one hit. So Alphys rushes to change up his barely-finished EX form into the NEO form, giving him a canon and wings.

As soon as Undyne falls, Mettaton leaves the true lab to confront the human. Alphys keeps watching them from her drone and tries to mentally prepare herself, as another monster she is afraid of loosing stands in the way of Frisk. However, she panics when instead of combing through Hotland to find any monsters still hiding outside, they head straight to the core where Mettaton is waiting. Alphys doesn’t think for long before asking Sans to bring her along to the judgement hall, explaining that she needs to stop the human if they make it past Mettaton. He shows understanding and teleports her and himself to New Home.

Mettaton falls quickly due to him and Alphys neglecting his defenses, Frisk having grown so strong at this point, and him barely knowing how to use the canon, as he wasn’t made to be a killing machine in the first place. After Sans judges the player, he lets them pass and leaves the hall, only for the player to walk into Alphys, waiting at the end of the hallway. She has decided to fight them, not only to avenge all the monsters who have died, not only because she feels like she owes this to Undyne and Mettaton who risked and sacrificed their lives, but because she knew she had the strength to injure and slow down, if not kill them, because she couldn’t let them get away, and because there were no longer any other monsters standing between them and Asgore.