Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The surface world had certainly brought about some hefty changes for Papyrus.

It all started when, glory of glories, he discovered something the nice gentleman in Ebott Library called ‘interlibrary loans’. It meant that not only could he read the books here in town, but he could read any book he could find on their not-related-to-spider-webs-ite. 

Which was good because, as Papyrus had begun to suspect a very long time ago, he really had some reading to do.

Not the fun kind though, with strange phrases to mouth until they rolled off the tongue, or words that almost tasted foreign, and not even that most glorious human genre ever invented- horse girl romances.

No, this was playing catch-up.

Because something about that barrier had soured, near the end. There’d been rumor of it ever since he could remember; the spell was faulty after a 1000 years. It hadn’t just contained them, it had constrained them, so that years passed but nothing changed, nothing altered, nothing diminished or grew or twisted. 

Plants would grow, but when they died, a new plant only came up in the same place as the old. Crops would only grow in old fields, no matter how fresh the soil was elsewhere. Water drops fell through the ceiling, but they fell in the exact same places every time. Pregnancies became rare; babies were occasionally born, but they grew up to be, in the end, almost replicas of their parents in personality or appearance. It was a slow, ugly decent into something with such frightening implications, that no one did more than whisper. 

Papyrus wasn't dumb. Even when he was much younger, he’d begun to notice it in Gaster, in Sans, in himself. Gaster would get caught in the same, dark spirals of thoughts…but wouldn’t come out, until one day he was lost forever to them. Sans would get more and more tired, have to sleep longer and longer to replenish the magic that kept his Soul beating- Papyrus roused him loudly and jubilantly, always terrified that he wouldn't jerk awake one day.

And Papyrus…found that parts of himself never grew up. His body did, but his mind just felt bursting with untapped potential, always a bit kiddish (at least to himself). Still yearning for bedtime stories. Still uncomfortable with swearing, or drinking…or really anything geared at someone over sixteen. 

Perhaps it was a side effect of his special magic, a magic he shared with the other two Skeletons. A magic born of human determination, that allowed the three of them to remember, to hold on. It didn't make them immune to the barrier, it just made them aware of its binding nature. Others would forget their own realizations, just being left with a sour taste and an unsettled gut, and talk of a king that took too long...not him. He could see his own stagnancy, but trapped like Cassandra, he couldn't warn himself. It was so hard to explain, the few times he'd tried to broach the subject with Sans.

So Papyrus waited. 

Skeletons were made to endure, to catalogue and keep score, made of unflinching human bone and Monster magic. And so he kept up his spirits, and kept note, and waited for something to happen. 

Then one day…it did.

The barrier came down, and suddenly, times were a’changin, as that human song proclaimed. It was like wool was lifted off the entirety of Monster society and he felt no different; an explosive expansion of emotions and thoughts and magic that left him reeling at home for days, just adjusting the newness of his own mind. His first plan, after moving to the surface with his brother and getting a job at a bookstore, was to begin taking classes at the local college…but he needed knowledge and experience first. Knowledge of the world, the real world…and experience at living in it. He had all this new, bright space in his brain, and knew he needed to fill it!

After confessing a generalization of his problems to a friendly neighbor, phrasing it as a lack of schooling available Underground, they'd suggested he try the ‘public library’. 

Such books! Such opportunities!

By the end of their second year of freedom, he'd earned his GED through pure independent study thanks to a program there, and secured a few scholarships to the community college after making an impression to their administration- what liberal organization DIDN'T want to be the first to welcome a Monster? Sans glowed with pride the night they all went out to celebrate, pulling him aside to hug him roughly. "you're so smart" he'd whispered, tears in his eyes. "you're so fucking smart paps, i'm so sorry that you...that we..."

Papyrus had silenced his brother by hugging him close, then picking him up and throwing him bodily at the couch for fun.

Time passed. Eight, almost nine years since the barrier's fall. Monsters integrated with society more and more.  Papyrus became the store manager at his work, which was met with intense pride from Sans, and finally started taking classes in general studies. The King often called on him when particularly prickly humans needed smoothed over, trusting in Papyrus' unique brand of overt friendliness. He was happy and content with his life, his friends, and the amount of sick noogies given and received.

And then you’d started showing up, throwing everything out of freaking whack.

Well he was getting nothing done at all, staring at the clock since 4:30 and waiting for the certain special human to show up.

Oh, how Papyrus wanted to talk to you. He could just never find a good way to start.

Every day since summer began, you were there in the bookstore’s café. A quiet presence in the corner, taking up two whole chairs and a table just for yourself if they weren’t busy. Your feet were always tucked up in the chair, your shoes somewhere below, and there was just something so freeing in seeing one of these human women sprawled, focused, and content. Not mincing along in clothing you plainly hated, or were even hurt by, not cutting across the store to avoid him, and not shying away only to chatter with your friends like little birds the moment they were ‘out of earshot’. Just sitting and working, shooting him the occasional wave or friendly smile. 

If he was honest with himself…you reminded him a tiny bit of Undyne in your unabashedness, and it was enough of a comfort that his cautiousness was replaced by curiosity. Not just that you were a human, no, but that you were there nearly every single day, doing…what? He hadn't found the courage to ask, yet. 

And if he was even more honest with himself, you were quite pretty, always drawing his eye every time you came in. Soft-looking hair, soft comfortable clothes, amazingly soft-looking skin, and delicious plushness in all his preferred places. When you sat with your legs crossed, the back of your thighs were speckled with tiny delicate divots like clouds- perfect places for his fingertips to squeeze.

What could he say? He liked a little more breakfast spaghetti on his plate, was sick and tired of looking at bones. He had plenty of bones! Give him something grippable. 

His human girl always came at the same time too, around 5pm until closing, settling in with multiple books laid out around you, always scribbling something or another. You sometimes bought paper or pens, and usually bought a drink, something to make up for your time in the café- and wasn't that just a lovely thing for you to do? He appreciated polite manners.

Papyrus jumped as the shop's antique clock chimed five times, knocked out of his daydreams where he leaned on a half-stocked shelf. He glanced over at his shadow, a perfect evening replica of himself at this angle. Lanky, yes. Skeletal, obviously. Still somewhat interesting to look at, he thought, in his work uniform (a white dress shirt, comfortable tan slacks, and an eye-smartingly handsome orange scarf today)...maybe even something you'd be interested in?

After a moment he scoffed gently at himself for the distraction, thrusting his arms off the shelf and rocking back on his heels, stretching.

Right on schedule, the bell over the door tinkled as you came in. 

The hot summer air followed you like a sticky wave into the air conditioned shop, and Papyrus was secretly amused that, as the month got hotter, you’d been slowly wearing less and less clothing, poor susceptible little human that you were. Today it was just a tiny pair of shorts, a thin tanktop, and two strappy sandals, with that gigantic bag you always lugged around with you. It was delightful to watch you walk, the soft angles of your legs contrasting nicely against the blue denim.

He went back to stocking the shelf he was at, watching out of the corner of his eye as, after you dumped your bag on a chair, and stepped over to the café counter, you scrounged in your pocket for drink money…and came up short. 

Plainly, you came up short, counting the bills there and checking your pocket again. Then you were visibly embarrassed, shifting from foot to foot, and hooooo did the human boy behind the counter, Brian, make it worse. Papyrus disliked him on the best days; he was a cruel person at heart, his Soul dim and nasty without a drop of fun. Now Brian just leaned there, smirking as you took a step back, fumbling in your pockets once more, and looked at your feet, beginning to turn away with a stammered apology. “Yikes,” he drawled. “Can't afford a few bucks?

Your cheeks burned. “Okay, jerk, I left my wallet in my car. Lay off and I’ll get it.”

Enough.

You were older than the boy, but obviously uncomfortable and nervous- humans were like that about money, and usually ungenerous and not often likely to share. Papyrus sat his armload of books down and walked over, brushing past you to get behind the counter. You glanced up at him for just a second, shame shining out from your lovely eyes- it wasn't acceptable.

Towering over the boy (for once he was glad of his height), he carefully measured the volume and tone of his voice to be just the right amount of condescending, because he really really did not like this human man-child, and also because your eyes were on him.

“BRIAN? PLEASE GO BACK TO THE BREAK ROOM. I'D LIKE A WORD WITH YOU ABOUT RUDENESS.”

The boy glared, but Papyrus was his ranking officer, er…manager, and he had to obey. 

Once the little rat was gone, he turned to face you; you'd turned away as if afraid to be caught staring.

“HELLO!” You flinched, startled, and your hair flipped free of its clip on the back of your head. It sprang off, skittering across the tile floor, and it took you two ungainly swipes, like a kitten, to catch it.  Papyrus had to smile as you swore softly under your breath, then walked back up to him nervously.

“Um, yes? Is it about me being here, I'm sorry, I-”

You were wearing lip gloss with glitter in it today- you licked your lips nervously as you spoke, and his eye tracked a tiny dislodged sparkle to the corner of your mouth. He’d spent plenty of time around humans, but had never really stopped to wonder how different they must physically feel from him…until right that moment. Watching your lip flex under your pink tongue, a slight glisten of moisture there left behind…

‘Dangerous, Papyrus.’

He shook himself internally and gave a bright smile, cutting you off. “WE ARE RUNNING A BRIAN SPECIAL TODAY! ONE FREE DRINK, COURTESY OF THE GREATEST MANAGER IN THE WORLD-” he gestured grandly at himself “-FOR THE FIRST CUSTOMER TO SAY HELLO AND NOT BE UPSET AT CERTAIN IMMORAL EMPLOYEE BEHAVIORS!”

His crush was delightfully bright; you caught on instantly, giggling softly as the stress melted off your features.

“Welllllllll hello! But…how can I be sure I’m the first customer? Maybe certain immoral behaviors have been happening all day!” you asked, play-acting a false pout for him. It genuinely tickled him, this little interaction. So rarely did adult humans he met still have some…some joy to them, some sparkle. 

It only made him like you more.

He winked, trying not to say ‘wink’- a difficult battle, but it just made you grin wider when he lost. “YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO TRUST THE GREATEST MANAGER IN THE WORLD! SINCE HE IS OFFERING YOU A FREE DRINK, BECAUSE HIS EMPLOYEE IS BEING RATHER AWFUL TODAY. I DON'T LIKE BULLIES. HE CAN GO BE SCUZZY IN BACK.” 

You laughed then, as he’d intended you to. “Then, hello um…. Papyrus” You read his nametag, stumbling for a moment over his name, then stuck out your hand, introducing yourself as well.

Papyrus hesitated a moment, then shook it, your fingers laughably small compared to his. He'd casually high-fived or elbowed human friends, bumped into strangers on occasion, or shook his boss's hand once or twice. This felt somehow more intimate, the quiet atmosphere and setting sun shining in through the window buying a moment of natural magic to admire the softness of your skin. 

You held onto him for a second longer than he expected, looking at his hand over yours with bright eyes. “Wow...” He must have made some questioning noise, because your gaze shot up as you dropped his hand with a grimace. “Oh my god I'm sorry, please don't think I'm a creep! I just, I think Monsters are really cool, and magic is CRAZY, and like, you know, I just don't want you to think I'm objectifying you, but-”

Papyrus let your mollifications roll over him, distracted. When you'd jerked your hand back, it had taken him much more willpower than he'd expected to not chase after you, missing the warmth of your skin immediately. With effort, he tuned back into your words just as you covered your eyes with your hands and began to turn away. “-soooooo sorry, I'm just gonna, um-”

Copying his brother, who was good at looking cool as long as it didn't require doing anything, Papyrus slid his hands into his pockets, affecting a comfortable, easy stance. “WHY, DON'T WORRY AT ALL! WHO WOULDN'T ADMIRE SUCH A HANDSOME SKELETON?” He pulled one hand free just to flick the end of his scarf away for theatrical effect…and your flustered, blushing smile was his heady reward. 

Then your expression changed, a bit of thoughtfulness. “Can I, hmmmm, and if this question gets weird just please tell me and we can forget it, but can I ask…” You paused a moment, searching for the words. “When you say skeleton, there's an emphasis to it. I'm assuming there are capitol-S ‘Skeleton’ monsters, as like, a grouping? A race? I'm sorry, I've never gotten to like, really-really talk to a Monster before, I just moved here a few months ago for work.” 

Papyrus arched a brow without knowing it, a habit learned from his brother as well. “YOU WOULD BE CORRECT! THOUGH…” His face fell a bit. “MY BROTHER AND I, WE'RE THE ONLY TWO SKELETONS RIGHT NOW. THERE WERE…A LOT MORE, ONCE.” 'But not for a long time', he thought to himself. Not in my living memory, or Sans'. It was a sad thought.

He perked himself back up. “BUT ALAS, YOUR GIFT FOR OBSERVATION IS OUTSTANDING! NOW, DO YOU PREFER A STRAWBERRY OR A CHOCOLATE-MINT FLAVORED BRIAN SPECIAL AS A REWARD?” He had to take himself back to familiar territory; you were already too darned fun to talk to. Better to stay cool and hip, as the teens said, than to come across as an overeager green-ear. He held up a clear plastic cup, shaking it enticingly. “YOU MUST DECIDE! A HEROIC MINI-ADVENTURE, ONE IN WHICH ONLY YOU CAN CHOOSE THE OUTCOME!” 

You struck a silly little pose, fists on your hips. “Then I demand strawberry!”

He made a concoction of coconut, strawberry, and white chocolate, blending it and making the swirl extra lovely on the inside of the cup. When he handed it over to you, you clapped softly. “Oh, it looks so nice!” Sipping it, you closed your eyes in delight. “So good! Thank you so much, I love coming here. It's so quiet and peaceful, and you carry actual drafting supplies, which like nowhere else does. And this was…really kind of you.” 

Papyrus, wearing a radio earpiece though which the two teenage cashier girls nearly constantly scream-gossiped on the main store line, managed to keep a straight face and nod sagely at ‘quiet and peaceful’. “WE'RE VERY HAPPY TO HAVE YOU!” 

Hmm, that was too distant. Too customer-friendly-sterile. He couldn't resist testing the waters, just the tiniest bit. “BUT, I PERSONALLY ENJOY YOUR PRESENCE AS WELL! YOU REMIND ME OF MY BROTHERS- ALWAYS AT THEIR BOOKS.” He frowned. “WELL, MY BROTHER SANS SLEEPS A LOT TOO NOW, SO I SUPPOSE THE ANALOGY IS NOT THE BEST, HMMM…” 

You leaned your hip on the counter, playing with the straw. “Hey, I'd be grateful for any nap I could get right now. I'm an intern, we don't sleep. We just stay awake until we look like gremlins.” 

Papyrus smiled at the gentle self-depreciation, watching as you fiddled with your drink and bit your lip. ‘Oh,’ he realized,  ‘Oh, she's nervous. From…me?’ Your gaze flicked over his face, then down the lines of his body, across his hands, and back up again. ‘Oh stars, does she…?’

He held his hand out again, taking a risk. “ABOUT EARLIER- ADMIRE AWAY! ONE BONA-FIDE SKELETON MONSTER FOR YOU TO PONTIFICATE! I AM AN AMBASSADOR FOR THEIR MAJESTIES, WHEN WE GO TO EXPENSIVE FANCY THINGS, SO YOU COULDN’T HAVE A BETTER EXAMPLE!”

You blushed, and something very giddy and silly rushed through him. When you hesitantly took his hand again, you squeezed the individual bones, bending them gently at the invisible joints. “For the Monster Royalty?! Wow that's amazing, oh my gosh...so, um, question. How do you, ah, stay together? Magic?”

With a furtive glance around, Papyrus checked to see if any other humans, employee or customer, were watching. Seeing that you both were unobserved, he closed his eyes and looked inward, down down down to the very heart of his magic, and the man this body once was. He drew on that man, allowing his invisible, magical flesh to become solid and visible for just a moment, the translucent orange facsimile of a slim human male overtaking his skeletal hand and arm.

You gasped softly, your head tilting as you looked him over, still holding his hand in both of yours.

“YOU'RE RIGHT! OUR BODIES FADE, BUT OUR SOULS REMEMBER. I AM MADE OF BONE AND MAGIC! WE JUST DON'T USUALLY, YOU KNOW, SHOW IT.” It was so easy to talk to you, to spill his words into your eager ears, anything to keep your attention on him.  ‘You're smitten, good sir’ he thought to himself. After a moment, he let the visible magic fade, and you shook your head in wonder. 

“Amazing…that's amazing. But wait…your souls…they ‘remember’?

He nodded, and you got wide-eyed for a moment, hunting for the words. “So…soo you’re a Skeleton, but you’re also a…a skeleton?” When he nodded again, you hesitated. “Like…a skeleton, like a skeleton, a…a d-”

Ahhhh, now he understood. Hopefully you didn't freak out like some other humans had.

He smiled and said it for you, “A DEAD HUMAN, YUP!” You blinked. “What..so, sometimes we just…wake back up?” 

“YOU'VE GOT IT! NO ONE KNOWS HOW OR WHY, OR WHO GETS PICKED. ONLY THAT WE FORM FROM HUMANS, THANKS TO THE MOUNTAIN…AND THEN WE FIND EACH OTHER.”

 You hummed, thoughtlessly stroking his palm with your fingertips as you pondered his words, the sensation sending shivers up his spine. 

“Hey boss, we're really sorry, but the printer's doing that thing again!” One of the cashier's voices came through his ear piece, breaking his immersion in the soft moment. Papyrus sighed, giving you an apologetic look, and turned away slightly as he held the radio mic up. “AND WHAT TYPE OF THING MIGHT THAT BE, KATIE?”

A snort came through the line. “Um, the not-printing kind. And we're not strong enough to lift it up and get to the cord underneath to unplug it, heeeeellllp?” 

Across the counter you giggled, and Papyrus shot you a quick smile. “ALRIGHT ALRIGHT, I’LL COME AND RESCUE YOU FROM THE EVIL PRINTER, GIMME A MOMENT!" 

“Okay!”

He shook his head with a good-natured roll of his eyes.

Then he and you both realized in the same moment that you'd been holding his hand all that time, not even examining it any more. Just holding.

Both of you jerked away from each other like scalded rabbits, you to fiddle with your cup, him to grip the edge of the counter. You both started to speak at the same time;

“I guess I should go back to drawing th-”

“I’M SO SORRY, WE’RE ABOUT TO HAVE A PRINTER ISS-”

You both cut off, stuttering for a second, blushes rising in your faces. 

Then something possessed him, he'd swear it, because he leaned over the counter to grasp your hand one more time and bring it to his lips, giving the most courtly and trained bow King Asgore had ever taught him. “UNTIL NEXT TIME?” He could barely keep the quaver out of his voice, his lips buzzing with the feel of your warm, incredibly soft skin. 

Two things happened at once- you nodded, smiling shyly…and goosebumps spread so visibly across your arms and chest that he yearned to feel their texture- the thought made him slide his tongue along the back of his teeth. “Til next time,” you murmured, blushing from your neckline to your ears.

He stepped through the door behind the café, grinning like a devil and stumbling in a daze through the storage room until he reached the business office where the printer was. Both girls were there, plainly having watched his interaction with you through the security monitors. He froze as they turned, grinning wildly as they looked him over. “She's so into you!” Katie squealed, bouncing in place. “Oh my gosh we didn't wanna interrupt at all, but you know the stupid printer starts leaking ink from the cartridge if it keeps trying to do whatever it's doing when it makes that sound! I'm sorry!”

The other, Joan, merely gave him a knowing smirk. “You've gotta ask her out. Respectfully, sir. That was cute as hell.”

He flapped a hand at them both, blushing so hard he thought his face might fall apart. “YOU, YOU- YOU ARE FLUSTERING ME! SHOO! AWAY! I WILL FIX THE PRINTER! BEGONE! AND THANK YOU!”

Giggling, they rushed out around him, Joan turning back to call over her shoulder, “Brian's been on a smoke break for like, fifteen minutes. Just thought you should know.” She didn't like the sullen boy either. He nodded, then went to unplug and reset the persnickety printer. When he glanced up at the monitors, he watched while you sat back down in your chair and touched the back of your hand, then your lips…and smiled softly.

He touched his lips, mirroring you, and realized he was smiling, too.

-

Papyrus made it home going thirty over, weaving in and out of the human drivers recklessly (not HIS fault they were, as a whole, so dang slow), his leg bouncing so hard that he feared the floor of the car would start to dent. It had been impossible to do anything for the rest of the day, and shamefully, he'd hid in the back until you left a few minutes before closing at eight. Even more cowardly, he'd watched you leave through the cameras, had grimaced and berated himself when you'd looked around hopefully the last twenty or so minutes, plainly trying to find him.

He'd even told the other employees to take the night early, offering the last two hours of the day as 'holiday pay' for a "monster holiday" he made up off the top of his head. Katie and Joan had given him encouraging thumbs ups, plainly seeing the lie as a lie, but also obviously thinking he meant to talk with you in a slightly more private setting. The store seldom saw customers on weekdays after half past six or so, after all.

But no. Instead he'd sat here in the office alone, working himself up for no reason, and realizing he was leaving you essentially alone in an empty store as the minutes ticked by. Then each minute made the feeling worse, which delayed him even more, and soon he was in a full on spiral of crush-anxiety. The emergency texts he sent to Mettaton and Undyne went unread, and when closing came he practically exploded out of the office chair, staring at the cameras as you reluctantly packed up and left. He gave you a good twenty minutes before he hastily first turned out the lights, then snuck across the store to lock the doors, paranoid you might be watching from outside the large windows at the front. That finished, he practically flash-stepped to the back door, threw himself in his car, and drove like a bat out of hell to get home to the house he shared with Sans.

Thank god he wasn't home; he knew his brother would have seen his face and immediately interrogated him, and Papyrus didn't know if he had it in him just now. He paced their living room for a minute or two, then shut himself in the bathroom, started the shower, and stared at the wall aimlessly long enough that the water went cold. 

Rolling his eyes, he used a foot to kick it off, waiting for the water heater to refill as he opened and closed the unanswered messages on his phone. Then, magical proximity made him glance up from his pity party on the toilet seat; Sans was home.

In a few moments, the sound of two shoes being kicked across the floor messily made Papyrus grind his teeth, and then the TV turned on, one of Sans' trashy daytime soaps that he religiously recorded. Neither Undyne or Mettaton had written back to him yet, though at least now Undyne had read it. 

After half an hour or so of waiting his patience ran out and he took a fast shower, risking the cold water, then lurched out and trotted to his room, giving a little magical 'bap' to the lazy hand of greeting his brother raised. It was their old, simple way of talking, from back when it had taken Papyrus far longer than usual as a baby bones to figure out speech. Simple touches, gentle nudges, taps and buzzes- it made him nostalgic, which was instantly colored by his bleak mood into rumination, and now the entire night was just a dang loss.

Perhaps even worthy of a swear or two- a damn shitty night.

Undyne finally answered around midnight as he lay there, naked and sleepless and staring out the window at the moon. 

Undyne, 12:03: Hey weenie, what's up

He hesitated, trying to figure out how to phrase it so she'd take him seriously, but also not show up at their building's entrance in 20 minutes and demand the full story.

"There is a girl that" No, that wasn't good

"A human at my work is" No, it made you sound like an exhibit

Finally, he settled simply on: 

Papyrus, 12:05: How do you know when you like somebody?

Undyne, 12:05: What?

Undyne, 12:05: Oh

Undyne, 12:05: OH

There was a very long pause, long enough and with enough answers started and stopped that Papyrus started worrying about a surprise visitor. Then;

Undyne, 12:18: Because they make you feel crazy, and stressed, and you drive yourself nuts, until you're with them and everything's good

And then, like an afterthought that she was embarrassed of and had to type fast before she lost her nerve;

Undyne, 12:19: And when you're with them, they bring you peace 

Undyne, 12:19: Or some shit.

Papyrus had to smile at that; Undyne was Undyne. 

Papyrus, 12:20: What if I feel like I am dying and falling off a cliff and also nauseous

Undyne, 12:21: Oh buddy, you got it bad.

He fell back on his bed and sighed gustily. It might have even been a tier three swear night- a fucking stupid night.

His moroseness grew the next day, Friday, when you didn't come in. You hadn't come every day before, of course, but now it felt specifically targeted at him by the most mean and cruel force in the universe...He didn't bother getting breakfast, didn't even bother with a cup of coffee.

In other words, Papyrus was sulking.

Katie gave him sympathetic looks, the owner/manager Bill (having plainly been filled in by the girl) gave him a firm clap on the back ("Buck up, it'll be alright. Don't get down on me now!"), and Brian didn't show up. 

A tiny victory, at least.

He didn't do much managing that day, that's for sure. A day spent sulking and lurking in the business office, closing the books out for the weekend in a process that usually took him less than an hour. But even writing on the paper made him think of you sitting there, always working working working on something...why had he never asked what you were doing? UGH!

Finally six came, closing at last, and Bill walked in for his jacket. His voice was gentle when he asked, "Did you get her name at least, son?"

He nodded, picking at the table varnish. Bill sighed, a soft chuckle in his throat. "Do you know anything about her? Where she's at, what she does? Forgive me for sayin' it, but I've never seen you this way." 

He glanced up at Bill, who cleared his throat.

Months ago, Papyrus had told him, a little, of what the barrier had done to his people. Bill, who had four sons, had warmed to him in an almost fatherly way after that. 

"This the first time...?" He didn't have to say the end, ‘-the first time you've had a crush?’

Papyrus nodded morosely. 

Bill shook his head, smiling. "I'm not gonna insult you and call it puppy love, you're a grown man through and through. And plenty of fellows don't find someone they take a fancy to until later on, too busy workin' or fightin' in the army or something like that. So just take it slow, and be good to her. You'll be alright."

Papyrus couldn't help it, the pathetic childish words crawled up out of his gullet no matter how deep he tried to shove them. "BUT WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T LIKE ME?"

Bill snorted, reaching out to shake him gently with one hand. "Katie saved the footage from yesterday, silly girl; I deleted it, but not before I saw for myself. She's smitten with you, son. She couldn't keep her eyes off you."

He sank further into his sulk. "WHAT IF SHE’S ONLY INTERESTED BECAUSE I AM A FASCINATING AND HANDSOME SKELETON MONSTER?" The older man grinned. "Then half your battle’s won already! Stop looking for reasons to be upset and start plannin' for how you're gonna ask her on a date." He turned to leave, sliding his coat on. "And don't lose yourself in it, either. It's strong stuff, being with a woman. Remember to stay who you are. That's who she likes, after all."

He walked out, and Papyrus silently thanked the Everstar for the stern, kind man who had changed the course of his life with a job and advice. His trip home was safer than the day before- Sans was home when he walked in, eating chips dipped in ketchup on the couch and watching mournfully as Alejandro and Annetta broke up their love for a second time, his eyes glued to the screen. Papyrus picked at a sandwich, not feeling up to cooking, and waited until the episode was done. When the end credits rolled, he walked over to the couch and sat beside his brother. Sans cocked an eyebrow at his uncharacteristic quiet, but the words exploded out before he could say anything.

"I THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH A HUMAN GIRL!"

Sans frowned, an incredulous snort leaving him unbidden. It took a few tries before he could form the words through the shock. "well...does she know?"

Papyrus threw his hands up. "NO! YES? PROBABLY NOT! I JUST GAVE HER A FREE DRINK AND KISSED HER HAND AND LET HER PLAY WITH MY FINGERS-" (Sans choked, hacking up a potato chip that went down sideways) "-AND TALKED TO HER AND I CAN'T THINK ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE! IT IS REALLY QUITE FRUSTRATING!" 

Reeling, Sans put a hand out on the couch to steady himself, blinking like someone had slammed him over the head with a two-by-four, and half turned so he could face his brother, who had ensconced himself in the couch blanket like a grandma. "that's a hell of a busy day, paps, uh-"

When the other man didn't even twitch in response, Sans sighed. "talk to me, bro."

Papyrus told him almost everything, leaving out a few choice bits that were for his own private enjoyment (he couldn't get it out of his head, what had happened when he'd simply kissed the back of your hand- his secret love of romance novels told him that was a very good reaction from you, and now he wanted to see it again, wanted to feel it happen under his fingertips…), and by the end, Sans was smiling. 

"she sounds sweet. i bet she's at home doing the same thing you are right now, freaking out for no reason."

Papyrus let his head fall back to thud into the couch. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO."

Sans chewed his boney lip a second, thinking. "i think you should take her to do something you like."

Traitorously, Papyrus's mind supplied the new Italian restaurant, the one with outdoor seating and a beautiful little garden built around the tables. One he'd wanted to go to since it opened. One that even sometimes closed early and offered handmade pasta classes. One that was perfect for a...a…

He groaned, hunching down in the blanket until his feet were buried under Sans's leg and his head had disappeared inside. His words came out muffled, "DO YOU THINK SHE'D LIKE SPAGHETTI?"

Unseen, Sans fought his damndest to keep the humor out of his voice. "only one way to find out, bro."

Papyrus moaned in despair as Sans started to laugh.

Chapter Text

It was just him the next day- Saturday mornings over summer break were surprisingly quiet in a college city like Ebott, with most store owners either out of town or relaxing after the business quarter AND semester both ended. 

 He was leaning with his arms crossed against a table display of the latest Mettaton autobiography (his third one in two years, Papyrus gave it a solid 6/10), pondering nothing at all except how quiet and lovely the afternoon sun looked coming through the windows, when the bell over the door rang.

He glanced up with a polite smile and a greeting halfway to his lips, then promptly froze like a baby deer as you stood there, absolutely beautiful in a powder blue sundress.

Peace? Forgotten. Sunlight? Unnoticed. 

His jaw worked as he scrambled for anything to say as you tentatively walked over to him. Finally, he managed to force out a shaky “UM, HI!" 

Your shy smile pulled him like gravity as he pushed off the table and took a step or two forward to meet you. You fluttered a hand through your lovely hair- would it be warm from the sun, if he touched it? Would it be as soft as it looked?

"Hi, Papyrus." Undyne was right, as always. The moment you said his name, the crawling anxiety of the past two days faded. Instead it was this pretty human girl who looked nervous, gazing up at his face and chewing your lip for a second.

"I...wanted to come see you" you said, and Papyrus could have laughed aloud at the weight that instantly lifted off him, at the butterflies in his Soul at those amazing, incredible words. But he didn't like the worry on your face, so he humphed over exaggeratedly and looked away, crossing his arms in a silly facsimile of annoyance. 

"AH, SO NOW YOU WISH TO COME SEE ME! WHEN YESTERDAY, I WAS LEFT ABANDONED AND COMPANY-LESS! ME, THE MOST ENTERTAINING OF COMPANIONS!"

The nervousness on your face faded as you began to smile, drawn in by him. 'Holy moly, she really does like me.' You threw your hands up in a dramatic apology, drawing his eye to your nails- you'd painted them orange since he'd last seen you...for him? To match him?

There was no way...right?

"I'm sorry, the office needed me yesterday! I wanted to come too!" 

Papyrus saw the chance and took it, shooting a grateful thought toward Bill for his advice. "AND WHAT DO YOU DO, HUMANFRIEND?" 

Your smile widened at the moniker. "Well, I'm an architectural intern at the city planners. We oversee new builds, review proposals for various projects…I work under the director." He nodded, trying very hard to listen and not watch how a single, shimmering strand of hair had caught on your eyelash. "She's nice, but super busy, so I'm busy too. But it pays okay, and comes with a guaranteed job at the end, so I can't complain! Who knew it would be so hard to find a job with a civil engineering degree?" 

Oh he couldn't resist. Slowly, telegraphing his movements like you might to a feral cat, he reached out and pulled the strand of hair free, watching as you twitched a little and blinked your darkened eyelashes- they weren't usually that color. Did you wear makeup today just to come see him? 

He smoothed the strand into the curl in front of your ear, enjoying the silk-soft texture against the back of his hand for just a second, then pulled back. "IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU DO VERY IMPORTANT WORK, A LOT OF MONSTERS HAD TO REALLY STRUGGLE WITH THE CITY TO BE ABLE TO FIND PLACES TO BUILD AND LIVE! SO THANK YOU." 

You blinked, looking from him, to his hand that still half hovered between the two of you, and reached up to brush your fingertips along your hair where he’d touched it. Something changed in your expression, something sure and decided, and Papyrus started worrying if he'd just done something terribly creepy when you took a deep breath.

"So, um…if you’re free, do you want to go to something tonight? With me? Like by ourselves, like just…us?" 

You could have backhanded him across the face and it would have shocked him less. He blinked at you, dumbfounded as your face started to fall, quickly losing whatever bravery you'd found to ask him. When something behind your eyes went hurt and chilly, he physically wrenched himself free of his daze in a clatter of bones that made you jump. "YES! YES, YES I WOULD, I WOULD LIKE...THAT. A LOT." 

In a softer voice, he added, "PLEASE DON'T BE SAD!" 

Relief made you sag in place; you hugged your arms around yourself, twisting back and forth with a grin. "Oh thank God, I was so nervous, I literally spent all last night trying to find out if this was like, some enormous social faux pas with Monsters..." You shook your head ruefully. "I was afraid I offended you."

Papyrus felt like he would explode at any second from the excitement inside; he could barely smother it down enough to get words out around it. "NOT AT ALL, ONLY SURPRISED! I AM, WELL..." 

How to say it, how to say it? "WHILE I AM DEVASTATINGLY HANDSOME AND CHARMING, I AM ALSO...NOT, UM...USEDTOSUCHATTENTION." 

There, that was a good and socially acceptable way to say 'No one has ever shown this type of interest in me, and now that it's you I feel like laughing or singing or maybe just passing out or dying on the spot.'

You frowned, letting go of your self-hug in an aborted movement to reach for him with sympathy in your lovely eyes…and stopped. He yearned for you to do whatever you'd been about to as you lost your courage, and folded your arms demurely behind your back instead. "That's a real shame," you said, "Cause I think you're really sweet... or at least you have been to me, everytime I'm here. I like sweet guys."

He felt himself blush, the compliment calling his magic forth to tint his cheeks orange. "OH, AHAHA, WOW, I..." Rubbing the back of his head nervously, he decided to bite the bullet. "T-THEN IF WE ARE TO HAVE DINNER, SURELY I MUST HAVE YOUR NUMBER! DATING RULE NUMBER ONE, AFTER ALL!" 

He whipped out his phone, AlphysMake, and raised his eyebrows at you as he shook it temptingly. You blinked at it in its bright orange case, then at him, a pink blush riding high on your cheeks as you looked...surprised? Surprised he wanted to?

How you could be surprised, he'd never understand; couldn't you see yourself? You could probably ask the sun to rise later in the day and it would acquiesce (at least if the sun was sensible as he was), but it made him feel so much better to see that you were also affected by the whole situation. "Okay, yes please, here take mine too..."

Papyrus couldn't help but think, 'Dating level one, achieved!' as he completed the number exchange. You'd saved your name with a little flower emoji after it, and it made his hollow belly flutter just to see your name and number in his phone. 

You picked lint off your dress, plainly trying to act collected and cool, but he could see your hand was trembling a little. "So, um, what kinds of things do you like to do? I was thinking maybe Korean bbq? O-or there's a murder mystery dinner I can probably get tickets to, or, oh, we could try an escape room? If you like those?"

Cooking with fire, solving a mystery, or doing a giant puzzle? Papyrus nearly swooned. "YOU COULDN'T HAVE OFFERED MORE PERFECT IDEAS THEN IF YOU'D ASKED MY BROTHER WHAT I LIKE TO DO! I...I CAN'T DECIDE! I LIKE THEM ALL!" He slapped his hands to his cheeks, trying to pick. 

That made you laugh, swishing your dress back and forth for a second as you thought. "Then, how about escape room first, BBQ second? We can, um-" you hesitated "-c-can do the dinner another time, maybe? It's fun, my friend and I went last year. The audience picks the evidence and the killer and all."

He was about to make a damn fool of himself if you acted any more perfect, so he stuck one hand into a pocket and pinched himself, hard enough to be able to trust his voice.  "THAT SOUNDS WONDERFUL! REALLY, TRULY WONDERFUL."

Your phone chimed that moment, making you both jump. Checking it, you rolled your eyes and sighed. "I leave the office for 30 damn minutes and they start crying for me, I'm SUPPOSED to have an hour! I'm sorry, I want to stay and talk really badly, but they need me there to approve work orders- those new Monster condos going up around the Mountain." 

You hesitated, then carefully, stepped forward and opened your arms. "Can we, um, can I-?" 

Jesus holy christ, as the humans said, you wanted a hug. 

"YES, YES, O-OF COURSE, PLEASE, YES!" 

Cringing at his overeager answer, he stepped forward to meet you and, after a moment's hesitation, pulled you into the gentlest, most inoffensive and friendly hug he could muster. Your skin was chilled from the air conditioning, and you shivered when his arms closed around your shoulders. 

"You're so warm," you whispered, tucking your head against his shoulder. “My sister always says you should hug before you go on a date…I didn't expect...well, I didn't know what to expect.”

He smiled shakily, feeling the tiniest bit (enormously) overwhelmed at the feeling of you against his chest, your hummingbird heartbeat fluttering so delicately between you. "I AM ALIVE, YOU KNOW. JUST...NOT THE SAME ALIVE AS YOU! ALL JUICY AND SQUISHY AND TERRIBLY EASILY CRUSHED LIKE AN ADORABLE LITTLE BEETLE."

You pulled back, squeezing his forearm through his shirt then flicking his pink scarf. "I can feel that now….though wait, hey! I'm not squishy! Or a beetle!!" 

He grinned, unrepentant. "OH BUT YES YOU ARE! PRACTICALLY FRAGILE, YOU HUMANS ARE PRONE TO COMING DOWN WITH SERIOUS CASES OF DYING!" He dodged your whack, cackling as you stomped your foot, pouting cutely. "That is NOT a nice thing to say to a lady before a date," you fussed, visibly biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. "You stinky Skeleton!" 

He turned away, making a show of lifting his arms and sniffing. "NONSENSE, I SMELL LOVELY! MASCULINE COLOGNE AND PERHAPS ALSO PEACHES, SOMETIMES MY BROTHER BUYS STRANGE SOAPS ALAS..." You gave up your act of seriousness and giggled even harder when he wafted his hand below his armpit. "HERE, ENJOY THE MANLY BOUQUET!" 

"GROSS!" Swatting at him, you leaned on the table to keep from falling over as you laughed. He chortled proudly while you caught your breath, sitting lightly on the table beside you. "AND JUST THINK, YOU'LL BE STUCK IN AN ESCAPE ROOM WITH ME! WHY, YOU'LL PRACTICALLY BE SWOONING FROM MY MERE ODOUR!" 

You got an evil glint in your eye then as you sat beside him and leaned into his arm, your dress cut juuuuust low enough to show a succulent line of cleavage for him to admire if he looked down. "Oh, but what if I'm already swooning?" you asked sweetly, exaggeratedly looked him up and down. "What if I'm smitten?"

It was the perfect thing to fluster him, and your victorious grin showed that you knew it. He sputtered and stuttered for a second, then stuck his tongue out at you, surprising you for a moment as you stared at it. He blew a raspberry and you blushed scarlet . "AHA! OH, HOW THE TURNS HAVE TABLED! DOUBTLESS YOU DIDN'T BELIEVE ME BEFORE, YET NOW YOU SEE WITH YOUR OWN STRANGELY WET AND ORGANIC EYES- SKELETONS CAN MAKE ANYTHING WITH MAGIC THAT WE WANT!" 

A series of expressions went over your face so fast that Papyrus couldn't possibly catch them all, settling on bemusement. "Well, color me impressed..." He wasn't sure why you were blushing again, but it was so cute that humans could change colors like that! 

Your phone chimed again, then two times more, and you groaned, sitting up and finger combing your hair back with a rueful smile. "I really don't wanna leave, oh man...does six tonight work for you?" 

Papyrus immediately missed your weight against him, and the way the warmth of your body had warmed his entire side in turn. "IT DOES! WHERE DO YOU WANT TO...TO MEET?"  

You thought for a moment. "At the escape room? It's on Main Street, right next to the arcade. We can walk to bbq after!"

He knew the place. "I SHALL SEE YOU THERE." He didn't want you to leave, but lord if he didn't get a moment to himself to scream or fall down or explode or something, he was about to do it right in front of you.

Wavering, you started for the door, then turned and looked back. "I can't wait," you murmured, blushing, "I'm really excited."

"I AM AS WELL! DRIVE SAFELY…AND I'LL SEE YOU AT SIX!" 

You walked out, and, obviously not realizing the black glass on either side of the normal windows was see-through from the inside, did a little explosive dance of excitement, tippy-tapping your feet on the ground as you threw your head back and grinned at the sky…and Papyrus's heart just melted right into mush. His hands were shaking with happiness, he was so excited and nervous; he almost fumbled his phone twice before he managed to get it out. Stepping out of view of the store cameras, he had a private little moment of silent screaming, then texted Undyne as fast as he could-

11:46: UNDYNE SHE asked ME out!

The immediate phone call he received in reply, in which he could hear nothing but Undyne, Alphys, and a few other people all screaming and talking over each other, made him burst out laughing in spite of himself. He let them fight it out, bouncing in place then dropping to a crouch behind a bookshelf. 

Finally, with the sound of a quick scuffle Undyne audibly came out on top and ripped her phone back out of someone's hand. 

"TELL US EVERYTHING!" she ordered. "EVERY SINGLE DETAIL!" 

Neither knowing nor caring who else besides Undyne and Alphys were listening, he told them all of it, from your arrival, your dress, the HUG, the DATE! It made him feel supremely silly and lightheaded to relive it all in detail, like he should go screeching out into the middle of the road and scream it, or maybe rent some signs and display it, but the collective hysterics of whatever group was behind the phone helped satisfy the urges like a greek chorus. Finally, they quieted enough for Alphys's excited stammer to cut through. "The K-Kriffs want to know what y-you're wearing tonight?"

Drama immediately exploded through the phone again, Papyrus waiting with a grin- if the Kriff twins were there, then Undyne and Alphys were at the research center outside the mountain entrance. All of them were arguing over the best outfit for a first date. When at last, Undyne had roared "LET PAPYRUS ANSWER!", he put on his best dramatic voice and declared, "OH I DON’T KNOW. PROBABLY JUST A NICE SHIRT, AND PERHAPS SOME COWBOY-ESQUE JEANS! DON'T WANT TO SHOW TOO MUCH SCANDALOUS BONE ON THE FIRST DATE!" 

The others listening chuckled through the speaker, but he knew Undyne would catch the second meaning. His work uniform was slacks and a dress shirt- the only bones showing were his skull, his hands, and occasionally his wrists if he rolled the sleeves. Other Monsters had faced quite a lot of trouble for looking different from the humans…why invite the same issues? It was something all of the Monsters in royal employ agreed on- don't draw attention, don't point out differences unnecessarily.

Undyne's voice cut through the laughter. "Wear what makes you happy man. I mean it! She's not blind after all." 

He nodded like she could see him. "INDEED! BUT I VERY MUCH ENJOY THE AESTHETIC OF THESE COW-MEN, ESPECIALLY THE ENORMOUS DICK-SUGGESTING BELTS." At that, Undyne broke down in giggles again, making him feel very warm and proud- she was a hard nut to crack.

"HONESTLY UNDYNE, I THINK MY CHANCES ARE EXCELLENT. WHY, SHE COULDN'T EVEN LOOK AWAY FROM MY IMPRESSIVE DISPLAY OF MAGIC- ALL SHE COULD DO WAS STARE!" 

Alphys "oooooohed" in the background. "Oh, w-what did you show her? Cool bone weapons? The gr-gravity thing?!" 

"MY TONGUE!" 

The other end of the line went quiet for so long that he checked to make sure it was still connected- Undyne broke first, absolutely braying. "Yeah, I can see how she'd be into that!" she cackled when she finally caught her breath. "Probably thought you were, you know, JUST a Skeleton before, what a nice surprise!" 

Now even Alphys was snorting, and someone else in the background sounded like they were dying. 

Like water dripping through coffee grounds, realization flickered through his skull. "OH. OH MY." He blushed so hard that his Soul squirmed as a new round of giggles broke out. 

Still...he hadn't even let himself imagine that far ahead, not wanting to be disrespectful...but perhaps it wouldn't be, if you'd already thought about the same? Oh but that meant you'd been thinking about him that way oh christ.

On the phone, there was a pause, then Undyne asked, quieter, "Do you want Alphys to run a background check, just in case?" 

He groaned in his throat, letting his head clunk back against the wood. The thought had occurred to him, but he'd hoped to ignore it. "I DON’T WANT TO, NO!" He hesitated. "BUT…SHE PROBABLY SHOULD."

Fuck, he didn't want to say it, didn't want to even consider it. In many ways Papyrus was a very difficult target...but in a few, he was a walking bullseye, and humans had used that tactic on Monsters before…though thankfully not him. If you ended up being something artificial...

He knew himself, his strengths and weaknesses…couldn't even stand to think about it. "RUN IT." 

Alphys' quiet hum of acknowledgment came through. "D-done by tonight." 

His voice fell a little. "BEFORE THE DATE?" What a nasty little thing to have hanging over his mind, if she couldn't. 

Her voice was doubtful. "Maybe...I'll t-try my best. This is...is important, after all! Monster-Human relations and all that!"

Undyne hung up after promising to keep him updated the second Alphys finished doing what she was doing, leaving him alone to jitter around the shop, checking out a double handful of customers and staring at the clock like he could force it to three faster. He texted Sans a shortened version of the news and got a string of thumbs-up and head-explosion emojis in reply, swept the entire floor, cleaned the windows, reorganized young adult fiction and pressed linen stationery, and was about to start crawling the walls or maybe gnawing on wires like a rat, when the clock finally chimed three and Trina showed up to work the rest of the evening.

The drive home passed in a blur,  though once there he just fell back on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He finally peeled himself up long enough to select a burnt orange shirt with long sleeves and dark jeans- sufficiently fashionable, he hoped, and it matched your nails.

The afternoon slowly, grindingly slowly, turned into evening. He picked at a late lunch of some indeterminate stirfry Sans had left behind, tried to watch TV, and finally gave up and screamed into a pillow until he felt a little better. Then he obsessed online, reading so many conflicting advice columns and tips for human dating that he finally tossed his phone away in disgust- it was literally just all sex advice. What about all the parts leading up?! What if there were social blunders to be found around, say, soup?! Or your favorite color socks? Or KISSING OH LORD THE KISSING. Would you expect to be kissed? What if you didn't LIKE kisses, what if his lips were too hard or soft or smooth or weird, what if you were ALLERGIC to him?!

Covering his face with the blanket, he smothered the frantic thoughts and let himself daydream for a few moments instead, lost in the memory of you in his arms. You'd smelled sweet, something light and fruity that he wished so badly had clung to his shirt so he could have smelled it afterward. 

At that, a small, clinical part of his brain that spoke in their oldest brother's voice dryly commented, "You're smitten, dipshit".  

Oh, what Papyrus would have given to have Gaster during times like these. He'd even been married once, though his spouse had left long before Papyrus could remember her. Maybe he could have given him some advice, or encouragement that he could definitely act like the cool and composed adult he was, and not the love sick teen he felt like. 

Sans was wonderful for advice in his own way, but so far had been so completely uninterested in dating that Papyrus couldn't remember him mentioning it even a single time.

(Knowing his brother, it was probably too much effort.)

He was completely dressed, cologned, and sitting at the kitchen island holding his head in his hands when Sans came home, took one look at him, and laughed so hard he cried. "paps, oh my god bro it'll be okay. you look like you're goin to a funeral."

Papyrus stared hard down at the marble. "I REALLY WANT THIS TO WORK." His voice was uncharacteristically glum, even to his own ears. "DO YOU WANT TO KNOW THE THREE DATES SHE OFFERED ME? A GRILL-YOUR-OWN-BBQ, A LIVE MURDER MYSTERY SHOW, AND A PUZZLE ROOM. IT'S PERFECT. WHAT IF I SCREW UP? WHAT IF SHE NEVER WANTS TO SEE ME AGAIN?!"

Sans shook his head, reaching up and rubbing his shoulder gently. "you won't. you have a good eye for this kind of thing." The younger skeleton scoffed in answer. "don't even. nobody in the history of ever has said 'oh look, here comes that weirdo papyrus', your biggest critic was a poltergeist in a flower for fucks sake. literally everyone who met you liked you, except for that freak back then. you always thought you didn't have many friends, but like...how many did any of us have, in the underground? we were all sick of each other."

Papyrus snorted, trying not to smile, and Sans saw his opening. "what, did a forever-twelve year old with bad peer pressure skills tell you you were ugly? did the little creep try to make you think he was your only friend? he'd fuckin' know, right? really rooted in reality." 

Papyrus was chuckling helplessly, his head in his hands. "THIS IS A MESSED UP THING TO JOKE ABOUT, BROTHER!" 

Sans nodded, jostling him a little with his elbow. "yup, he sure WAS messed up. practically a psychoplant . so you gotta beleaf in your self. don't let his influence ruin your plants tonight." 

"AWFUL! TERRIBLE, LOW EFFORT! ZERO OUT OF TEN!" He smacked at his brother with no strength behind it. This was Sans greatest gift, he'd thought often to himself before. This ability to make someone laugh, to relieve them for just a moment no matter how nervous or worried they were. "nah bro the puns are succulent tonight. but yeah. just try to romaine calm. loosen up a little!" He gave him one last pat, then ambled away.

Papyrus groaned, hiding his head in his arms on the counter as Sans reclaimed his spot on the couch.

Finally, the clock ticked over to 5:15, and he nearly fainted on the spot when he noticed. 

Sans nudged him from across the room. "remember, it's an escape room for fun. it's a dinner for fun. so stop stressing and have some." Papyrus huffed in reply, reaching for his keys and standing off the stool "and remember to get your smooches in."

"YES YES, THANK YOU SANS, I FEEL LIKE I AM DYING GOODBYE."

By a miraculous stroke of luck, there was street parking not three stores down from the escape room; he waited outside, enjoying the warm breeze and screwing around on his phone.  A car stopping in traffic made him glance up as you got out, cute in an all-one-piece type of clothing cut high on your legs. He stepped forward, smiling as you shook out your hair and the car pulled away. "HI! GOOD EVENING! I LIKE THIS!" He gestured toward your outfit; compliments were always good, right? 

You grinned up at him in answer. "Oh thank you! I was gonna wear a dress…but then I figured I'd better change if we're gonna be crawling around in here." You fell in step beside him as he cut across the small Saturday night crowd. "So, have you done an escape room before?" 

He shook his head  "NO, BUT I'VE HEARD SO MUCH ABOUT THEM! I LOVE PUZZLES." 

Speeding his steps, he pulled the door open for you, preening inwardly when you smiled up at him in gratitude. "IN YOU GO!"

Immediately the atmosphere was exciting and fun- the front reception area was kept a little dark, with posted highlights on each wall of the rooms they were currently offering. You led him up to the desk, but his eye was glued to the far wall, entirely done in blacklight and glow-in-the-dark paints. 

'The GlowNite Challenge- A Game of Murder and Vengeance! Difficulty- Extreme, 3 hrs, 4-6 players'.

"-yrus?" He turned with a hum, you were calling him. "SORRY, WHAT?" 

You pointed to a menu on the countertop, where his and your initials were posted next to 'The Call of the Jungle! Difficulty- Medium, 2hr, 2 players'. "Are you ready?"

Then you followed his eye to where he'd been staring. The gamemaster, an older human, looked too, and grinned. "Oof I dunno man, that would be quite the challenge for just the two of you. The room is huge, it's actually three connected rooms, and three of our own folks tried it and couldn't finish it in time." Then he squinted at Papyrus. "Hey wait, aren't you the guy from PapyrusPlays?" 

He nodded brightly. "THE VERY SAME! SO NICE TO MEET SOMEONE WHO'S SEEN MY STUFF!" 

You glanced between the two men as the human leaned back, staring pensively at the tall skeleton. "Well I'll be..." Turning, he grabbed the magnet off the big wall schedule behind him, one with both your initials on, and moved it the whole way to the bottom, to the one labeled 'GlowNite'. 

Then, he grinned at you. "You're in for a treat, ma'am; with him here, the two of you might actually be able to do it all on your own. Now, the rules are simple- no lockbreaking or translation magic, no damaging locks or latches, no deconstructing things unless you've been provided tools, and don't break props! Be constructive and supportive with each other. And remember- this particular escape room CAN be failed! If you destroy certain clues or steps, you won't be able to go further!" 

He held out a basket. "Phones in here!" 

Papyrus was getting more excited by the second, and seemingly so were you, your eyes shining as you gazed up at him. He gave the man- "Xavier" by his nametag -his phone, bouncing in place a little.

"Now have fun! Oh, and a final note- all tips are given from a preset list of riddles by your humble gamemaster-" he gestured at himself "-so you'd better bring your A-Game, bro! No easy tips! Maybe if you have a good time, you can post about it on your channel, hmm?" He offered his fist for Papyrus to bump, then traded his seat with another employee. "Follow me!" 

Papyrus and you passed through a dark door and down a hallway where shrieks of laughter occasionally echoed out of the various closed rooms on either side; he held his hand behind your back subtly, knowing it was harder for humans to see in the dark, and not wanting you to trip. As you followed Xavier, you bumped him with your shoulder. "PapyrusPlays? Do you do youtube or stream or something?" 

He nodded proudly. "AT FIRST, I ONLY DID MEWTUBE, BUT THEN ALPHYS SUGGESTED I BRANCH OUT. I TALK ABOUT GAMES, AND PLAY THEM TOO!"  

Your response was cut off as you reached the end of the hall, where a single black door stood ominously. Just tucked around the corner, Papyrus could see the game master's desk and mic setup. 

"Alright folks, welcome welcome. Have fun! Oh and one more thing..." He handed them both flashlights as he opened the door. "It's dark."

Xavier hustled the two of you inside and closed the door behind, leaving you in the almost complete darkness of a cyberpunk-esque, futuristic 'apartment'. Papyrus switched his flashlight on and met your eyes. "READY?" 

You grinned. "Tell me about the YouTube stuff later...and ready." 

An hour later, working together you’d found:

• two dozen assorted clues on business cards, receipts, and other little scraps of paper
• a series of mathmatical clues leading to a 'magic' statue locked in a drawer, one of three needed to escape 
• a marked and (carefully) removed ceiling tile that revealed a space behind it full of ‘bloody’ clothing 
• an 'access panel' to pry off the wall behind a painting, where a series of symbols were painted in spooky-red blood paint over buttons
• an entire stack of case files and 'records' of the 'murders' in GlowNiteCity that Papyrus had already connected to a cipher code on the underside of the area rug

...and a deck of cards with holes punched in them hidden under the desk. 

You were seated on the floor, lit by your flashlight and surrounded by a halo of papers and playing cards, calling out numbers to Papyrus as he fiddled with a combination lock on a little safe in the closet. It clicked open, making you both cheer as he snatched out the second 'magic' statue from the little box that you needed to escape.

All of a sudden, blacklights in the corners of the room flipped on, and he and you gasped. The walls, themed after a futuristic investigator (who'd apparently met a grim and grisly end of his own out the 'window'), were now covered in fluorescent paint and secret messages- he yanked open the desk drawers and found even more scrawlings there. Even his bones glowed, as did your teeth and nails, which fascinated him to no end. Xavier's voice came over the speakers, using a low and spooky tone as he explained that you were an hour in, and had reached the half-way mark with your discovery of the 'second relic'.

The two of you worked well together, Papyrus thought, now bracing you as you climbed a stepladder and rooted around on top of a curtain rod for something you'd seen glimmering there. There'd been some nervousness at first, some tension as you both figured each other out, but you'd quickly settled into a good rhythm. Now you were like old friends, arguing over clues and joking back and forth like you'd known each other for years. 

He wrapped an arm around your knee to steady you as you felt along the cloth, and noticed that your skin raised in goosebumps where his body touched yours. Fascinated, he thoughtlessly trailed a finger up the side of your thigh, watching as they spread, raising impossibly thin, soft hairs there.

"Can I help you, mister sir?" Your voice was low, your eyes warmly teasing as you gazed down at him. "That's very distracting." 

Something hot and exciting filled him then, something he'd flirted around the edges of but never really explored until now. Maybe he hadn't been truly stunted in the Underground, he thought to himself. Maybe he was just waiting for the right person to come along, and they hadn't been down there...because right now, with your skin warm against him and the muscles in your thigh trembling a little from standing on your tiptoes, Papyrus wanted. He wanted that warmth and softness against himself, to see what other fun little tricks of the human body existed. Smiling up at you, he basked in these new-but-not-new feelings.

You reached down to him then, cupping your hand around his jaw and smoothing your thumb across the ridge of his cheek. "Don't you look handsome in this light? Like something really magical..." He stared as your pink tongue came out to wet your lower lip. What would it feel like against him?

Two things happened in rapid succession.

First, his Soul flared, bright enough to be seen through his shirt and reflecting weirdly against the blacklights as it trickled magic down his spine to pool in his pelvis, ready to be called on. 

Second, as your eye was drawn to his chest and you began to ask, "What is-?”, the stepladder wobbled…and then the rickety, already-saggy plastic step snapped under you, sending you into a sideways fall that would've been broken only by your skull on the desk.

But it didn't. Hearing the plastic creak before it even broke, Papyrus casually braced your leg against his arm, and, as the step ladder collapsed and you screamed in surprise, caught you easily against himself, letting you slide down to the ground as he pondered the third puzzle absentmindedly.

You were wide eyed, your pulse pounding visibly in your neck as you stared up at him. "Th-thank you," you gasped, "That was...holy shit. That could have been bad." 

"I WOULD NEVER LET YOU FALL." His voice was an unusual murmur, staring down into your gemstone-eyes with his arm still wrapped around your shoulders. He wanted you to understand that, more than anything. Even if the two of you didn't stay dating...though he'd be heart broken, he still wouldn't just let harm come to you. It wasn't in his nature to allow it.

Then to his astonishment and joy, you leaned up and kissed him right on the cheek. "Thank you, that's...one of the nicest things anyones ever-" 

"Is everything okay?!" Xavier's voice cut through the room over the speaker. You cleared your throat. "The, um, the stepladder broke. He caught me though, we're okay." 

To Papyrus's surprise, there were tears in your eyes. Were you hurt, despite his efforts? 

Xavier exclaimed something, a startled apology of some sorts, and said he'd be right back with a new ladder. Papyrus ignored him, his concern growing as you looked away and sniffed, trying to hide your face as you wiped at your eyes quickly. "ARE YOU OKAY? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN? DO YOU NEED ME TO MASCULINE-LY BEAT UP THE LADDER? I WILL YOU KNOW, I'VE LEARNED EXCELLENT WRESTLING MOVES FROM-" 

You laughed a little, but you were still tearing up as you shook your head. "No, no it's okay, I'm just...I'm a little embarrassed, that's all, I'm gonna go to the bathroom really quick? I'll be right back." You slid out from under his arm before he could say anything, passing Xavier as he knocked on the door with a new ladder. 

Papyrus watched you go, helpless and not understanding. He turned to the human man as he began to slide back out the door. "XAVIER, MY SUDDENLY DEAR AND ONLY CURRENT CONFIDANTE, WHAT DID I DO? WHY IS SHE SO UPSET ABOUT A LADDER? SHE SAID SHE'S EMBARRASSED, IS THIS A HUMAN THING? ARE LADDERS SOME SPECIAL THING I DON'T UNDERSTAND?" 

He shook his head, smiling ruefully. "If she's anything like my wife, she's not upset that the ladder broke. She's upset because she, standing on it, broke it in front of you...and maybe you'd think something about how that looks. And a lot of people...no, humans, a lot of humans make fun of other humans for that type of thing, especially women."

Papyrus scowled, imagining anyone making fun of you. "BUT I LIKE THE WAY SHE LOOKS" Xavier grinned in reply. "And I like my wife the way she looks too. But that doesn't stop people from giving them grief, you know? And between you and me, these things really are flimsy, we've had them break under people before." He left with a friendly clap on the shoulder. 

Hmm. What to do about this?

When you got back, closing the door behind yourself and turning to face him with blushed cheeks and slightly red eyes, Papyrus held out his hands. "COME HERE." You cocked your head, curious, but stepped forward until you were within reach. He towed you in by the shoulders until he had you directly in front of him then, with a single easy movement, scooped you up off your feet. You gasped, squirming for a moment, then giggled as he bounced you first with both, then with only one arm, cradling under your rump and leaving you to support yourself on his shoulders. Your thighs fell naturally open on either side of his waist, and the softness there would feed his imagination for days . “I JUST WANTED TO LOOK YOU OVER. YOU KNOW, MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY AND ALL. PART OF MY GOOD AND CARING NATURE.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, blushing visibly even in the low purple light. "I'M A VERY STRONG MONSTER, AND I LIKE YOU THE WAY YOU ARE…SO PLEASE DON'T LET A STUPID, CHEAP STEPLADDER MAKE YOU UPSET!”

You started to laugh, shaking your head in wonder and sniffling just a little, draping your arms around his shoulders as you gathered yourself. "...thank you. Also holy shit you're so strong, I...this would be hard, if not impossible for like ANY human." 

God he wanted to kiss you. You were right there, your lips so soft and plush looking…chasing your laugher, and wanting terribly to show off some more for you, he whispered, "WELL IF YOU THINK THAT'S COOL, WATCH THIS!", and reached with his index finger, touching the center of your chest and pinging your Soul with the tiniest drop of blue magic. When he set your feet back on the ground, you blinked, then bounced on your toes, your hair lifting slightly into the air around you. "What the...." 

"MY MAGIC, ACTING ON YOUR SOUL!" 

You blinked, then hopped from one foot to the other a few times, an incredulous grin spreading across your face as you did. "That's amazing, you can just do this? It feels so weird! Like I’m on the moon or something!"

He smiled proudly as you started to bounce in place. "MY POWERS ARE BONES, FRIENDSHIP...OTHER THINGS...AND BLUE MAGIC- GRAVITY!"

You gawked at him, exclaiming "Gravity? Gravity!?", but he was already turning away, spotting and reaching a magical orange hand up to the thing you'd wanted on the curtain rod- a tiny, folded up note. "YUP! THE MOST FUN OF THE SPATIAL MAGICS! NOW YOU CAN'T FALL AND HURT YOURSELF ON ANYTHING." 

He started to turn, paper in hand, but froze when you hugged him from behind. "Thank you. Thank you for being so nice." 

Your voice was tiny against his spine; he threw a layer of magic over himself to pad his back with magical flesh, not wanting you to hurt yourself against his hard bones. "YOU DESERVE PEOPLE BEING NICE TO YOU. ALMOST EVERYONE DOES, IN FACT! BUT YOU ESPECIALLY." You squeezed, then pulled away from him, and he slowly let his magic fade from your Soul over the next few minutes.

The rest went in a blur- the note was the final piece of a puzzle he needed to unlock a lock box hidden in a cabinet, and within ten minutes, he'd snatched the last 'relic' from a little alcove that popped open in the floor after pressing a button inside. All three relics went on a wooden podium sitting on the bedside table, which lit up green.

Xavier's voice came through congratulating you both, and Papyrus gave a deep, silly bow as he opened the door for you. Then a photo was taken to go on the winner's wall, with an extra polaroid being given to each of you as a souvenir, and by that point you were playfully grouching about being hungry.

You both picked prizes from the prize bin (plastic crowns and fake flower leis), and Papyrus promised all the human workers who had come to exclaim over him that he would definitely come back and do a feature on his channel, before whisking his lady out the door to go find the bbq place with a final wave and round of selfies with everyone.

After trying his first bite, he decided that he was in love with this type of bbq and would be getting a grill for the porch IMMEDIATELY. It touched him that you had taken over making everything; it felt just the tiniest bit domestic, the simple pleasure of someone cooking for you. You were silly and happy, starting to work through a bottle of Soju as he waited for the second round of bulgogi to arrive, and Papyrus busied himself with drawing your portrait, using soy sauce and a chopstick on a saucer. 

After a minute or two, you noticed what he was doing. “Oh, oh wow, jeez that's surprisingly good? Holy crap?”

He blushed, waving off the compliment. “I COULD DO BETTER WITH CHARCOAL BUT, YOU KNOW. NOT REALLY ANY HERE.”

You flushed, your eyelashes fluttering as you glanced down then back up again, meeting his eye with sweet nervousness as you took a breath- 

-and a shrill whisper interrupted the moment. "Oh honey look, there's another one. Ew, is it dead?"  

Papyrus wilted as soon as he heard the words; couldn't the nasty human couple have just, you know, not said something? Whatever you’d been about to say, he was itching to hear it…but no. They were sitting at the table next to yours, shooting you both dirty looks. Sighing, he turned away to motion to the waiter for more banchan.

Your chair squeaked. "Another what?" 

He glanced up at you in surprise, he'd never heard you angry before, in all the time you’d been coming to the store. Your voice was tight and dangerously soft as you stood, leaning over the glass divider on top of the board separating the booths. The couple glanced up at you, then away; cowards. 

You leaned in further, a nasty little smile on your lips as you looked them over. "Another friendly person? Another two normal people trying to have a nice dinner, and being interrupted by bigots? Sorry, I just couldn't quite catch you the first time, could you speak up?"

Oh, oh no, this was turning him on…but you just looked so good, all full of sparking anger for his sake, a flush in your cheeks from rice wine and temper. Papyrus covered his chortle with one polite hand and gave his best eyebrow wiggle to the couple, who were plainly trying to turn invisible as you drew the eyes of the folks around them, Monster and human alike. You didn't say a word further, just stared at them until he almost cackled when the man looked away first, murmuring something to the woman and throwing some bills on the table as they both stood.

Papyrus watched them leave, full of cheer as you sat back down with a huff, muttering under your breath and aggressively stacking zucchini on the grill. "Hateful assholes." 

Dinner resumed, albeit with a slightly grumpier you for a time until he plied you with an order of mochi ice cream and cut fruit, entranced as you chatted about your work- it also gave him a chance to sneak the waiter his credit card. 

You were munching on a prettily cut pear when you asked, "So how long have you worked at the bookstore? The stock is fantastic, it's the only place in the county that I can go buy big grid paper in person." 

A text had come in moments before, from Alphys- 'She's clean.'

"HMM?" He looked up from his phone as you repeated the question. "AH LET ME THINK.” He did the math in his head, counting around those first awkward months out of the mountain. "SEVEN YEARS AND EIGHT MONTHS." 

You nodded. "Wow…and what did you do before that? When you, were, um, under the mountain?" 

He poked an ice cream. "ROYAL GUARD. BUT...BUT MY CAPTAIN, MY FRIEND, SHE SAID I WAS TOO SOFT-HEARTED BACK THEN FOR SERIOUS GUARD WORK.” He winked at you. “I DON'T THINK THAT MAKES ANY SENSE, PERSONALLY, SINCE I DON'T HAVE A HEART, AND IF I DID, IT WOULD BE MADE OF BONE, WHICH IS NOT SOFT." 

He noticed you were trying very hard to cover a smile. "WHAT?" 

You reached over, taking his hand. "I just...I thought it was sweet. You are a really nice person. What's her name, your friend?" 

He brightened. "UNDYNE!”

“Oh!” You bounced a little in your seat. “Yeah! Actually I know of her, she-” you dropped your voice a little lower, leaning in “-she has like a whole-ass fight club, right? My best friend Roger goes, he's friends with someone in it, MK? That armless kinda reptile-y looking Monster guy?”

Papyrus gave you a sneaky smile. “WOULDN'T HAVE THE FAINTEST IDEA WHAT YOU MEAN.” Then his smile softened unconsciously as he thought about his best friend. “SHE'S THE BEST, AT SQUAT DAY AND AT APPREHENDING CRIMINALS. THOUGH SHE DIDN'T GET MUCH EXPERIENCE WITH IT UNTIL WE CAME TO THE SURFACE.”

The look you gave him was wry. "Not many criminals in Monster society?" 

Tapping his chin with one hand, he turned his other under yours so your palms were pressed together- a terribly distracting and exciting feeling. "HONESTLY, NO. THE OCCASIONAL TOMFOOLERY AND HOOPLEHEADERY. AND MUCH HOT-DOG STACKING." 

That made you laugh, as he'd intended it to. You told him about your townhouse, your nice neighbors on one side and your terrible neighbors on the other, and your dog… and then spent a minute assuring him that, while Cheezit could be annoying at times, he was definitely not a Monster Dog secretly masquerading as your pet, which apparently they were known to occasionally do for the mischief of it all. As you pulled out your phone and showed him pictures of a fluffy black mutt, your most recent project at work, and your friend Roger and MK together, Papyrus couldn't help but sigh. The place was near closing, and he desperately didn't want the night to end. 

Then like a mind reader, you sat your phone down, and made a face. "I guess we should head out...I just don't really want to stop hanging out with you! I dunno, is that like, weird to say to someone on the first date? Probably..."

Papyrus shook his head, swallowing a shriek of excitement at the reminder that he was on a date. "I DON’T THINK SO!" Thinking for a moment, inspiration came. "WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO FOR A WALK WITH ME? THE RIVER IS BEAUTIFUL AT NIGHT, THEY HAVE LIGHTS HANGING THE WHOLE WAY AROUND IT AND UP ON THE WALKING BRIDGES."

Your eyes lit up. "Yes, please."

Chapter Text

He drove you both down to a parking lot beside the river walk, a popular path along the river flowing through the center of the city that was lit year round by fairy lights and decorated with statues by local artists. It was a rare, cool summer evening, a little past nine o'clock.

You both walked for a time in comfortable quiet, holding hands and looking out at the water. Then-

“I had a wonderful time tonight. So how many other pretty human girls have you swept off their feet?” Your voice was light and teasing, but it pinched his Soul to think about it. He tried to keep his answer light in return. “NONE. THESE BONES ARE PRISTINE AND HUMAN FINGERPRINT-FREE!” Before he could change the subject, you grinned up at him. “Ah, Monsters-only huh? Branching out, I'm so flattered.”

It was now or never. It felt important for you to know, for your sake and his as well...though it physically hurt to say, twisting and sick in his gut.

“NO. THIS IS…YOU'RE…THE FIRST.” 

He kept staring straight ahead, not daring to look at you as you slowed a moment. Finally he glanced back; you were frowning. "Oh. Oh."

Cringing, he stopped, waiting for you to say...something.

"I...wait, are you serious?" A little flash of hurt worked through him before you went on, "Wow...I never would have guessed. You're so-" you gestured at him broadly, picking up pace with him again. "Confident? Fun? I can't imagine why.”

Papyrus snorted incredulously, his hurt evaporating while a stupidly-flattered grin spread no matter how he tried to fight it. “OH WELL, UM, THANK YOU!"

Your grin invited him to laugh along with you. "What, what am I missing here? Do you sniff the waiter when they walk by? Have a thing for feet? Run over squirrels on purpose on the side of the road? I'm genuinely surprised, like..."

Papyrus chuckled, shaking his head. "THE BARRIER AFFECTED EACH OF US DIFFERENTLY. IT HURT EACH OF US...IN OUR OWN WAY."

Your face fell at that; he squeezed your hand gently, swinging it a little to try to comfort you.“BUT I'M GLAD YOU'RE SURPRISED, IT TELLS ME I'M DOING SOMETHING RIGHT AND NOT COMING OFF AS A CRIPPLING WEIRDO! YOU'RE VERY KIND, AND-AND P-PRETTY, AND..."

He couldn't stop the stutter of nervousness, but you blushed and looked away all the same, covering your smile with one hand. He'd noticed the habit earlier and it irked him just the tiniest bit; he worked for those lovely smiles, yet so many of you human women had the habit of hiding them. Halting your walk, he turned and grasped your other hand as well, holding both. "PLEASE DON'T COVER YOUR FACE! YOUR SMILE MAKES ME HAPPY, PLUS, HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IF I'M DOING THIS RIGHT? WHAT IF I SAY SOMETHING HORRIBLY OFFENSIVE TO HUMANS AND I DON'T KNOW IT AND YOU NEVER TALK TO ME AGAIN?

When you shook your head, chuckling incredulously, he pursed his lips. “WHAT?”

“I'm so sorry the…the barrier, that it hurt you. I've only learned about it from the Capital museum. I didn't realize it did something individually to Monsters, only that it trapped you all.” You squeezed his hands.  “You're so, so freaking sweet. Like so polite and friendly, this is the best first date I've ever been on…and the first one since moving here back in April. Hell, this is the best time I've ever had with a new person, period."

He tried to wave it off, but you held onto him and shook him gently. “I'm serious! Are Monsters just universally this nice?” 

Okay well this was just baffling. How bad were your experiences before? “I MEAN, YES MOSTLY, BUT ALSO I AM LITERALLY JUST BEING A DECENT PERSON.”

Smiling softly, you nodded. “Yeah…yeah you are.”

And it was then, under the lights that decorated the bridges and walkways around the river that you gazed up at him with soft eyes, with slightly parted lips…and somehow Papyrus knew you wanted him to kiss you. He'd always wondered how people knew it was the right time…how silly he'd been. You couldn't have been clearer.

Dear God. It was time. If Gaster's ghost still lingered in the universe, Papyrus prayed he'd guide him, or pinch him if he screwed up, or something. 

He leaned down and, very carefully and softly, trying to remember everything he'd ever seen or read until it felt like his mind would overheat, tilted his head and pressed his thin lips chastely to yours, praying he had it right and only remembering at the last moment to close his eyes.

You pulled away after a second, murmuring "...softer than I thought", and reached up to touch your fingertips to his lips. Then you put the same hand on his cheek, smiling shyly, and pulled him back down.

Oh, it was so sweet and simple and good. He followed your lead, grateful that you set it, and moved his lips gently against yours; after a few seconds, he realized how cold the rest of the front of his body felt compared to the warmth of your kiss, and pulled you in with his hands on your upper back. He was elated that your lovely soft hair was down, and that he could stroke his fingertips through it and across the impossible plushness of your skin through the thin fabric at the same time.

You pulled back enough to whisper against his mouth, and the feeling made his belly drop out from excitement, made him feel light-headed and hysterical and deeply, deeply wanting more. "Is this your first kiss?"

Papyrus wasn't often one for whispering, but in this moment, it's all he could do. "YES."

He felt you smile against him. "Oh honey..." And then you pulled him back down, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth and the almost invisible arch of his upper lip.

Papyrus swore he wasn't breathing; it was confirmed when he nearly had to gasp for air, turning away to hide his expression in a moment of overwhelm. So you just hugged him instead...and it felt nearly as good.

As he recovered and leaned back a bit from you, he mindlessly wrapped your hair around his hand, then let it waterfall out. You smiled up at him, your breath coming a little faster...and it felt so good that he'd been the one to do that to you. "Do you like it down? My hair?" 

Papyrus nodded. “IT'S VERY FASCINATING, BECAUSE IT'S SOFT AND NICE, AND ALSO BECAUSE I HAVE NONE.”

You smiled. “I get that. Can I admit something to you?” He waited, watching how the bright fairy lights sparkled in your eyes. 

“I don't want to…god, how to put it. I don't want to sound like a fetishist or something. But there really is something inherently interesting about being with a Monster.”

That made him laugh softly. “AND THERE'S SOMETHING VERY INTERESTING ABOUT BEING WITH A HUMAN! I CAN'T FEEL YOU MAGICALLY, BUT I CAN HEAR YOUR HEARTBEAT. I CAN'T SEE YOUR SOUL WITHOUT CALLING IT OUT, BUT I CAN FEEL IT...AND YOUR FACE IS MUCH MORE EXPRESSIVE THAN MANY MONSTERS. I LIKE THAT!”

You bit your lip, your eyes glittering. “You're very tall and handsome…and you look honestly, oh I don't know…delicate? Is that the right word? And so pure white against the brighter colors you wear. Please don't get like, dude-offended by that, I just…you know. Ugh. I don't know if I'm being rude or not.”

How could he possibly be offended? He liked how slim and pale his bones looked, like filigree or lace against the background of the world around him. Skeletons often admired the graceful space between bones as much as the body itself, finding elegance in the emptiness and angles. 

“I…I LIKE THAT VERY MUCH. I LIKE THAT YOU THINK THAT ABOUT ME.”

You reached up and draped your arms around his neck, tickling your fingers up the back of his spine just under the join of his skull, careful to avoid any pinch points. 

“We'll have to be careful. I'm afraid my hair will get caught between your bones.”

He shook his head. “TRY TO PUT YOUR HAND THERE.”

You did, then hummed with interest as your fingertips were stopped by something invisible right where the vertebra would shift against each other.

“JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN'T ALWAYS SEE MY MAGIC, DOESN’T MEAN IT'S NOT THERE. I WON'T LET YOU GET HURT. THERE'S A REASON CLOTHING FITS ME INSTEAD OF HANGING OFF LIKE A HANGER.”

He winked at you as you cocked your head. “That's so interesting…” Then, quicker than he could react, you went up on your tiptoes and kissed the side of his jaw, your lips lingering, tracing up and back to one of the large gaps that opened in his skull behind his jaw. Papyrus couldn't stop the shiver that visibly shook him; who knew that place could be so sensitive, so delicately heated?

"Oh, I like that," you whispered, your eyes warm and admiring. "I like that a kiss affects you. Do you know how many guys could give two shits about a kiss?" 

He felt himself blush as you leaned in and hugged him again, pressing yourself against his chest and humming when his arms came up around you as if by nature. "Your hands are shaking (damnit, you were right)...please don't be nervous with me...you don't have to be, I'm really happy right now. Unless...it's a good nervous?"

Wincing, he nodded against the top of your head, feeling a bit exposed…and yet comforted despite it. It was a strange, giddy sensation; if this was what women did to you, then small wonder men went off a'larking from their attention. "A GOOD NERVOUS." 

The two of you stayed like that as Papyrus began to rock you back and forth to a distant song- a minute or two passed in comfortable quiet. 

Then he hated to say it, loathed to say it… but he also was a canny little skeleton and could see the opportunity to earn some immense Relationship Points.

"SO…IT'S LATE. I WANT TO STAY HERE FOR A MILLION YEARS, BUT...SHALL WE RECONVENE ANOTHER TIME?" You giggled, tracing your fingers across a rib under his shirt in a terribly distracting way. "Yeah, probably...god I love the way you talk, seriously, it always cheered me up. Even before we...you know." you motioned vaguely from him to yourself. "It's like listening to a Shakespearian actor. They start to speak in that same pattern, even when they're not on stage. You should try theater!"

He chewed his lip, basking in the compliment. “PERHAPS. HMMMM, BUT I DO WORRY ABOUT TYPE CASTING. THINK OF THE BUDGET THEY COULD ALL SAVE ON SPECIAL EFFECTS.”

"Ghost Rider, horror movies, zombie shows...ooh, you could be a really good grim reaper! Like a Halloween special?" He shot you a dirty look as you lightly teased him, giggling. “AH, SO YOU TOO WOULD SHOEHORN A TALENTED SKELETON INTO THESE TRITE AND UNINSPIRED ROLES! ALAS, HUMANS…”

He gazed around at the river and the thinning passersby as you looped your arm through his and began ambling back to the parking lot. You told him about where you'd lived before, upstate in the mountains, and Papyrus did his best not to trip over his own feet; he couldn't look away from you, and was immensely nervous that he'd fall flat on his face in his distraction.

Then he remembered something. “I NOTICED YOU TOOK AN UBER EARLIER. ARE YOU GONNA CALL ONE, OR…” He'd heard the girls at work talk, how men used a ride home as a way to get a woman's address. He didn't want you to think the same. “I DON'T MIND. I'M HAPPY TO GIVE YOU A RIDE. BUT…I DON'T WANT TO FREAK YOU OUT.”

Your quiet scoff made him glance over- you were shaking your head, staring at the sky. “You…you are…”

He waited, but you gave up on the thought, looking up at him with a small smile. “You know what? Actually, I'd love a ride. I live over next to the stadium.” 

Nodding, Papyrus clicked his keyfob to start his car as you both got near. “UNDYNE AND I GO TO BASEBALL GAMES ALL THE TIME, I KNOW THE AREA PRETTY WELL ACTUALLY.”

“Oh really? I'm amazed we never ran into each other sooner, Roger and I go at least once a month.”

Ah. Papyrus grimaced. “WELL…YOU KNOW HOW YOU HAVE TO PUT IN YOUR ID TO BUY TICKETS?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It's kinda weird, right?”

He sighed. “MONSTERS HAVE A DIFFERENT CLASS OF DRIVER'S LICENSE. THE OWNER OF THE STADIUM, HE HAS IT SO WE CAN ONLY BUY TICKETS FOR THE OUTFIELD GREEN. THE VIEW SUCKS, YOU PROBABLY GET MUCH BETTER SEATS. THAT'S WHY YOU HAVE TO ENTER YOUR LICENSE NUMBER. TO KEEP US OUT.”

Stopping mid-step, you turned to stare at him. “They do not .” 

“YUP.”

“After seven fucking years?!”

“EIGHT AND A HALF, ACTUALLY. MONSTERS ARE ONLY PROTECTED FEDERALLY, NOT ON THE STATE LEVEL YET. SO HE CAN DO WHATEVER HE WANTS.”

It felt good to see you so angry on his people's behalf. “That's messed up, what the hell?! Why do it?!”

Shrugging, he watched another car pull out of the lot. “TO BE MEAN. TO SAY WE AREN'T WELCOME.”

You snorted. “What an asshole…” And then your face changed, from angry to thoughtful. “Huh. I…that's interesting actually, I thought…well the stadium…”

He cocked a brow at you, propping a hip on his car door, but you shook your head. “Don't worry about it. Just…something I remember seeing at work.”

Papyrus drove you home; a cute little townhouse tucked alongside the tourist part of the city. “Please let me know you got home safe, okay?”

God, GOD he had a crush on you, he couldn't take it. “I WILL. GOOD NIGHT!”

You hesitated, then leaned over and kissed him again, lingering- it made Papyrus gasp against your lips, terribly nervous and hesitant but wanting more. It felt like part of him had been asleep his entire life and was waking up; he cupped his hand around the back of your head as he'd seen done in movies, and was rewarded by a tiny noise in your throat, sweet and heady. That was something to think about later, when he was alone and could consider what other cute sounds he could elicit from you.

It felt good that you stuttered too as you pulled back. “G-goodnight. Text me.”

He nodded, his eyes wide. “OKAY.”

Papyrus watched you let yourself in, smiling as you turned back and waved, using your leg to block a bouncing black dog from getting out the door. 

When you were inside he pulled away, giving himself a good half mile before he stopped at an intersection for a moment to clutch his head in excitement, and only pulled away when someone behind him beeped.

-

Papyrus got home, and texted you; "HOME! GOOD NIGHT!" Then he opened the garage door to find Undyne sprawled on the couch, grinning with a bottle of beer in one hand and an unopened spiked lemonade in the other.

“Get over here and spill the deets, nerdblossom. I've been waiting since eight."

He did, staring at the floor for most of it as he blushed. Sans got home halfway through the story and waved at them both tiredly, trudging to bed- something he and Alphys were doing was taking all of their time lately, but getting Sans to talk about work was like trying to wring water from a stone.

Then Asriel texted him, making him pause…and grin. He'd entirely forgotten... 

Tonight was one of those nights. 

The young royal had mentioned it three days ago, but his date with you had entirely wiped it from his mind.

“And just what are you so happy about? Is she sending you pictures of her titties? Can I see?”

He clutched his phone to his chest. “NO SHE IS NOT, AND NO YOU COULDN'T. ENORMOUS PERVERT, WHAT WOULD ALPHYS THINK?”

“Jealousy that she doesn't also get to see the sexy human boobs, I've seen this chick before bro. She's a friend-of-a-friend with MK, hot as fuck.” She squeezed her hands midair as if imagining grabbing parts of you. 

Papyrus hit her with a couch pillow. “ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!”

Undyne left around eleven.

At midnight, being very, very quiet on the supremely rare chance that Sans was still up, Papyrus slipped out the garage door, his Soul pounding with excitement. He didn't know how his brother would react to…all of this, and frankly he didn't want to. Everyone had their vices, their stress-relievers. Sans, his bars, pubs, and other human substances. Undyne, her questionably-legal and very unregulated boxing matches. Mettaton, his near constant stream of partners, a different person every night. 

And Papyrus?

Papyrus liked driving very, very fast.

Preferably for large amounts of money. 

But Sans didn't need to know that. And if he did know about it, then he didn't need to face it. He dealt with enough, wasn't able to handle things as easily as Papyrus could; sadness clung to his brother in a way it didn't to him, and Papyrus would be damned if he'd add even one more thing to his overburdened plate. 

He backed his second car out of the garage in neutral, using magic to push it backwards just enough to make it move and leaving the garage door open rather than risk the sound of it closing. Thank god Sans slept with the TV on and a pillow over his head, for it made the risk of being caught almost zero. 

Papyrus ground his teeth as he drove at the boring, miserable speed limit; this car was already eye-catching, dark red and idling at a growl. No need to invite trouble before he arrived...even if it practically pained him to go so slowly in his beloved Porsche, the first thing he bought on the surface, practically jumping under his hands as it idled faster than the speed limit in this part of town.

Then finally he hit the expressway, glancing at his phone as Asriel sent him that night's spot.

God, he needed this. Something to vent off the restless energy inside him after his night with you.

-

He grinned viciously at the Monster walking up to him as he got out. The other pushed his low hood back enough for his floppy white ears and sharp fangs to show- for all that he had just turned nineteen, Papyrus knew Asriel was far, far older in a way most people didn't, couldn't, understand. 

“Heyyy, you ready hotshot?”

There was a bond between them that Sans didn't accept. But how could they not gravitate to each other, thick as thieves? Countless times around the carousel, Papyrus had found a weeping yellow flower, and tried to be its friend. Countless times, he'd been betrayed, as the person trapped within the flower had lashed out in abject misery. And countless times, Papyrus had tried again. 

Because he understood. Because he could remember too, in his own bizarre way. Muscle memory that never faded, instincts and skills that never went away- a memory of the body, vs Sans's memory of the mind, and Frisk and Asriel's memory of the Soul. Cycle after cycle after cycle, all of them enslaved to it as, somewhere, a young child searched for the one string of possibility among a million failures.

And that memory, that remembering…that was another thing Sans didn't have to know. A secret between him, Asriel and Frisk that no one else needed to learn about.

Papyrus clapped him on the back roughly, getting the same treatment in return; Asriel was a physical, visceral person. He liked the reminders that he could feel. “ALWAYS. ANYONE SPECIAL TODAY?”

The other man snorted. “Dumbass humans and shithead Monsters. Who cares? You're better than all of them.”

Papyrus rolled his eyes. “YEAH. AND YET YOU'RE SO HAPPY TO TAKE THEIR MONEY AND TRACK THEIR BETS…FOR A FEE, OF COURSE.”

“Of course.”

There was a sharpness to Asriel that would never go away; a pain that would never be fully cured. And yet Papyrus couldn't forget the time that two cars got too close, young and stupid with it, and flipped on a curb. 

The young royal had been the first one there, bodily ripping off doors and dragging people out before the gas could ignite, setting ribs and stopping bleeding with magic until he himself was gray and shaking with exertion, but the morons were able to stand up and walk away from a 100mph crash. Papyrus knew the prince would spend the rest of his long, long life trying to make up for the things he'd done…and so few people would ever know it.

They walked over to the small crowd gathering beneath that night's chosen underpass; mixed Monsters and humans, and a double handful of cars, most of which made Papyrus scoff. Worthless, oversized vanity mufflers, screeching, cheap turbochargers, shittily tuned engines that knocked loud enough Papyrus could hear it from a hundred yards away, and jackasses destroying their tires to try and impress the few women hanging around. 

He rolled his eyes. Amateurs, all of them. No one fun had showed up at all. From Asriel's expression, he agreed.

“Bunch of jackasses. How much are you doing?”

Papyrus hummed, reaching in his pocket and pulling a roll of human money out. “TWELVE, FOR NOW. DEPENDING ON IF THEY GO A SECOND TIME, YOU'LL HAVE TO SPOT ME. I CAN'T EXACTLY PULL MUCH MORE OUT AT A TIME LIKE YOU CAN. HUMAN BANKS ARE JUST SO SUSPICIOUS OF AN INNOCENT SKELETON.”

Asriel disappeared the twelve-thousand with a twist of his fingers, chuckling evilly. “For my dearest buddy Papyrus? Maybe I have a little extra tucked away.”

A few people who recognized them came over; Catty and Bratty, infamous both for the designer Monster clothing outlet they ran downtown and the special magical alcohol they illegally sold out the back door, Burgerpants, now trying desperately to get his nickname upgraded to Lawyerpants after a career change, and a few others. Papyrus grinned when Frisk trotted up, giving them a high-five and letting them wrestle him to the ground, buried in the black tulle of their tutu skirt. The human mage seemed utterly uncaring about any rules or taboos on fashion, and so of course had instantly become an icon on social media. Bratty had once described it as “bubblegum-schizo-americana”, which was very rude…and also, honestly rather fair. Their eye-smartingly pink and sequinned top was hideous and eye-catching even in the dim moonlight, as were the stiletto cowboy boots and matching cowboy hat they wore; it proudly said "Daddy's Little Problem" in rhinestones around the rim. The prince's face softened the moment the mage got near.

Where Asriel went, Frisk went. Where Frisk went, Asriel went. Toriel had raised them both as her children, but...Papyrus often wondered just how close they were, for they'd never acted like siblings. They'd moved out into their own apartment immediately upon turning eighteen, and well...their business was their business. But he knew for a fact, because he and Sans had looked at the same place, that there was only one bedroom in the unit they rented.

If they were happy, that was what mattered. Not like they were actually related anyway. And the royal line couldn't have been more secure, with the young prince backed by an unimaginably powerful human mage. Papyrus hadn't seen Frisk use their gift since the Underground, but he didn't doubt for a moment that they could. They were an insurance policy for all of Monsterkind, a last-ditch guarantee that they were really, truly free...for Asriel had told him about that final, permanent SAVE, at the lip of the Mountain after the barrier fell. There was no going back to anything before that. For better or for worse, the tape couldn't be rewound past that point. 

Catty smirked up at him. “You ready to do this shit? Heard from the Kriffs that you've finally found a girlfriend, maybe you can get her something nice after you win.”

Papyrus propped his fist on his hip flamboyantly, giving her a scathing look. “GIRL. I CAN ALREADY GET HER SOMETHING NICE.”

“Then move out of that fucking house and get your own place. Stop living with your slobby sibling and find a nice condo or something to bring her back to. What're you gonna do, sneak her in through the window like a teenager?” It was an old sentiment, versions of which she shared often- Catty and Sans got along like oil and water. Papyrus often wondered if they'd had something together at some point and cut it off...but neither would say a word about it.

Bratty smacked her. “You're a bitch. He loves Sans, you wouldn't get it.” Then she smiled up at him. “Don't listen to her. It's good that you take care of him. He needs you.”

He reached out, squeezing her shoulder, then turned to Asriel. “SO WHEN IS THIS STARTING? OR DO WE JUST SLING OUR METAPHORICAL JUNK AROUND ALL NIGHT AND GO HOME EMPTY HANDED?”

Behind him, Catty whispered, “Okay, but is it metaphorical? Can all Skeleton Monsters make a c-”

Without looking back, Papyrus grinned, interrupting her. “WOULDN'T YOU LIKE TO KNOW?”

Asriel raised a hand- further into everyone, a Stonesprite Monster began waving drivers over to the center. Papyrus waved back in reply, and turned to jog back to his car. He laughed as Catty's voice carried-

“I mean yeah kinda, actually! What is his made out of?? Bones?!”

-and unlocked his door, sliding into the driver's seat. 

He, Asriel, Burgerpants and MK had put more money and time than he could count into keeping this particular car looking as normal as possible, a sleeper-build that was an almost sensual experience to drive. Nothing hinted at what lay below the hood, nothing on the interior had been altered, except for the gearshift; they'd moved it subtly to the side of the wheel and paid a fortune to rekit the entire transmission to sequential, as Papyrus preferred. It was worth it for the added control around tight city roads. 

He usually kept it in the garage, telling his brother it was a project- Sans was either too tired or distracted by his own shit to question it. And it was a project…just one he worked on with money won illegally off of other, shittier drivers. 

Closing his eyes for a moment, he flipped an unobstrusive switch on the console to open the exhaust cutouts as his baby roared to life under his hands, no longer a quiet, perfectly polite machine. It made him grin like a wolf to hear, all his teeth bared in vicious excitement while catcher cars started pulling up behind him, ready to draw the eye of any overeager police Asriel's deep, deep pockets hadn't gotten to first. 

Tonight would be a fun night. 

Chapter Text

Papyrus got home around 3 in the morning, sharp-edged, victorious and furiously happy- he'd won both by a long shot, with the added fun of avoiding some boring, fun-killing human police officers. The losers had whined and complained as usual, throwing around threats and posturing; he and Asriel had spent a good ten minutes tearing into them, pointing out what they did wrong, the shittiness of their work on their cars…it had sucked the wind right out of their sails. They all went home whining, and Papyrus had left with his jacket pockets bulging with cash.

Running a bath in his wonderfully large, deep tub (his biggest motivator for this house, personally), he locked the door and added a BoneBuilders-brand bath bomb (ginger orange!), settling in happily to soak. 

God his Soul was pounding still, sharp and eager in his ribcage. He ran his hands over his chest, his hips, admiring how his fluttering white core shined against the inside of the bones, smooth like fine porcelain and glimmering in the warm, dim overhead light. Some of the women there had stared at him with hungry eyes after he won, trailing their hands down his arms- human AND Monster. As always, he basked in the attention…but encouraged it no further. He had no attraction to them, track bunnies who only liked him because he'd won and had money overflowing from it.

Now if you'd been there? That would have been different…if you'd been admiring him, staring up at him with heat in your gaze, running your hands over his body as you leaned in and whispered how good he'd done, how impressed you were…?

Feeling a trickle of warmth going down his spine he sighed happily, sinking deeper in the water until it poured into his skull, sound getting dim and fuzzy.

Papyrus didn't often jerk off, at least not as often as he'd heard most men did; embarrassingly, it made him feel a bit sad and lonely to do so. At most it was once or twice a week, and always after the nights that he went out looking for trouble with Asriel…especially the nights he won. 

So he did then, and he thought of you as he did… and perhaps that was why it didn't feel nearly as lonely. Sliding his fingers along his ribs, he let out the breath he'd taken above the water. He didn't need to breathe, per say, not technically…but his body still thought it did. And that slowly growing desperation made every touch sharper, every sensation richer. Oh, how good it had felt, your soft lips on the curve of his jaw. You'd run your hand thoughtlessly along his lowest rib when you were talking by the river; he pictured it was you there now, curving your fingertips around to the inner face of the bones, infinitely softer and malleable to the touch there in those shielded, inside places. God it would feel so good, the softness of your body against his. 

His chest hitched as his cock formed, the magic spiraling down his spine and twisting into the shape he preferred; a bit longer than his hand could cover, and thick enough to feel good when he wrapped his fingers around it. If he'd had lungs, they would have started burning by now as he took himself in hand…running his other palm down his sternum and imagining it was you. That you were sitting on the edge of the tub, beautiful and sweet, relaxed in a t-shirt and nothing else. That you'd have one hand wrapped around him, slowly starting to slide up and down under the water…and one hand on his chest, gently pushing down. 

Oh it was so dirty that he let go of himself for a moment, surfacing with a gasp and shivering as the water poured back out of his skull. Was it wrong, to imagine you like that? Would you think him gross, or even freakish for enjoying that feeling, for wanting you to be the thing that pushed him under?

He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment, then reached over for a towel hanging beside him before grabbing his phone, dangling one arm out of the tub.

Opening up an anonymous tab in the human browser, for he wasn't 100% sure that Undernet's anonymous mode was actually anonymous from certain scaled scientists, he googled before he lost his courage,  “sometimes i like not being able to breathe during sexual things”

…

Ah well no apparently he wasn't a lone weirdo at all. And as he scrolled through the millions of hits that search returned, he thought to himself that it was perhaps even less weird, because he couldn't die from it and humans could! Yet these perverts were out here practically strangling each other with their bare hands, how scandalous. He snorted at a couple results from Cosmo magazine- “How To Safely Get Choked” among them -before accidentally clicking a link. 

It was a porn site, that was instantly obvious. A handsome human couple, the girl long haired and deliciously curvy, riding the man beneath her as the camera filmed from some nearby table or dresser. Papyrus nearly clicked away from it- human porn didn't usually interest him -and then stopped, his thumb hovering over the back button. The human girl had murmured something, grinning, and the man laughed long and hard at it as she climbed off his cock and crawled up his body. The laughter was what made him pause; it was real…and far hotter for it. 

When she put her knees on either side of her partner's head, he sank his fingers into her soft belly with a groan…and Papyrus huffed out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding, turning the volume down to barely a whisper, even though his bathroom was on the first floor and Sans’ bedroom and bathroom were both on the second. He scrolled down just a bit to find the title, “Beautiful Girlfriend Smothers Me With Her Tight Pussy”.

Oh…well that was actually hot as hell. Maybe he needed to watch porn more. Monster porn was hard to watch since it just reminded him of being immature and grossed out by it Underground, and the few times he'd idly searched for human porn, the front pages had driven him away immediately. Nasty, fake step-sibling incest and women with tears in their eyes and snot on their faces, choking on the nearest grainy dick. He had no interest in hurting someone in bed; the thought of a woman crying as she gave him a blow job made him cringe.

But this…he was self-aware enough to know he was inexperienced, not really aware of what was out there, what could be done. He'd never really considered this possibility, of a woman being on top of a man this way, of his face being buried in her from beneath, delicate and pink looking on his tongue.

The human grinned. “I can take it baby, come on. Bring me that pussy, fuck let me taste it-”

Papyrus wet his suddenly dry lips, reached back down, and took himself in hand, stroking slowly as the man pulled the woman down by her thighs. It was loud, boisterous and filthy; wet sucking noises and muffled moans from the man while the woman groaned and writhed above him. After a few minutes she was riding his face in earnest, her hips moving like she had on his cock. When the man shoved her up enough to gasp for breath, growling, “Fuck yes, gonna smother me with it?” the tiniest noise of desire hummed in Papyrus’s throat. She laughed out a moan, knocking his hands away and sitting back down on his waiting tongue…and when she came, crying out and squeezing her breasts, he did too, biting his knuckle as he threw his head back, his hips jerking in the foam covered water…and imagined his hand was yours.

Counting his winnings the next morning in bed, Papyrus smirked as he reopened last night's browser by accident. Apparently the website he'd stumbled on was considered ‘girl porn’...oh fucking well. He already had it bookmarked. 

Sans knocked on his door around ten, “hey you up? sunday brunch with tor if you wanna go.”

Papyrus yawned. “NAH. THANKS THOUGH.”

His brother chuckled, turning to walk away as his heels clicked on the hardwood. “what, did your girl tire you out?” He was gone before Papyrus could answer. 

Then his phone ‘dinged’ a notification; he glanced over and nearly squeaked with excitement.

10:19 good morning!!! 

It made him smile so widely that he had to raise his hands to feel it for a moment, tracing his lips and wishing his fingertips felt more like your touch. 

He wondered if he should wait to answer, like some internet dating places and the infamous Monster’s Dating Guidebook said…but then he remembered Bill, a real person, with a wife of thirty years and four happy sons.

“...Remember to stay who you are. That's who she likes, after all."

Papyrus wasn't a person who waited to talk to someone, trying to create artificial separation or false feelings of ‘will he won't he’...and so he answered you, snuggling down under the blankets and hugging a pillow to himself as if it was you. It was an old fantasy of his, now with your beautiful face added- more than anything, he yearned for touch. For contact. 

10:21 Good morning!! How are you?

10:22 good! a little sleepy. some local hoodlums went screaming through my neighborhood last night. 

Uh oh. 

10:23 I couldn't fall back asleep so I sat out on my balcony and watched. it was pretty cool actually, a cop showed up but there was noooooo way they were catching up to them all in their shitty old ford.

10:23 it was funny, like here go these custom built crazy sports cars, and then some crap ass little interceptor as if an suv is gonna keep up with a damn porsche

10:24 sorry for going on about it, my dad's a mechanic. I don't know a ton about cars but I have fun looking haha

He was simultaneously flattered and wincing; hopefully you didn't get too good a look at that Porsche as it passed, or else he'd have to be very careful what he picked you up in from now on…

10:25 That's okay! Its cool that your dad is a mechanic, I love cars. Sounds crazy to see.

10:26 so the street fair is next week

10:26 are you gonna go?

He smiled- he always went, it was a rare time that he could pry Sans out of the house for a few hours …and then got a very good idea. 

10:27 I am!! Want to go with me and some other friends??

Your answer was immediate.

10:27 yes! I'd love to 🧡 do you mind if Roger and his boyfriend come? 

10:28 The more the merrier!

An hour or so later, his phone buzzed again as he got out of the shower. 

11:30 which do you think I should wear for a big fancy thing tomorrow night at work? some state people are coming and we all have to look nice

You sent two pictures after a minute, two selfies. In one, you had a very pretty maroon and black dress, sensible and professional. In the other, a sunny orange dress, form fitting without being overly tight, and with a capelet that went over your shoulders as part of it. He smiled the moment he saw it, for it couldn't have been a more perfect match to ‘his’ color if the maker had tried.

11:33 Oh absolutely the second one! You're working for the director, right? You have to be very fancy, and stand out compared to other people!

11:33 Besides it looks very pretty and I like you in my magic's color.

Was that too presumptive? The moment he sent it, he cringed, shaking his head at himself. But then;

11:34 I do too, that's why I got my nails done to match you yesterday ;)

Oh, he'd guessed right…oh wow. THAT felt good. Physical proof that you liked him, worn on your body as you went through your day. 

11:34 oh wait um is that weird for Monsters?  

11:34: cause I can definitely get it changed  

11:34 I just always think it's really cool to see you doing stuff around the store with like magical hands and everything and then you showed me up close 

11;34 but I can for sure get it changed

You were nervous, texting in bursts. He made you nervous. It shouldn't have felt so good, but it did; made him feel less kiddish and immature about it all, if you felt the same as he did.

11:35 It's not weird!!! I like it, and I thought it was really lovely on you. And even if it was weird to Monsters, you wouldn't know that, so why would I be upset?

A pause…

11:39 oh thank god okay good 

He admired himself in the mirror as he stood there, phone in one hand; tall, slim to the point of looking stretched…but not as disproportionately so as their older brother had been. With a simple twist of his mind, he summoned the magical flesh that usually sat invisibly over his bones, a barely-there, illusory suggestion of a human shape. Sharp hip bones, wiry arms and legs, an almost concave belly, and the faintest, faintest possible hint of high cheekbones, large eyes…

Sliding a hand down his ribs and spine he wrapped a hand around the base of his cock, laying flaccid against his thigh. Was it this newfound excitement of being with you, that made him feel so handsome in the moment? Or perhaps, the thought of you sliding up behind him, your arms around his waist, your hand replacing his…

He felt touch starved, all of a sudden (and almost all the time, if he was honest). Hungry for affection, for your gentle hands on him. Tracing down delicate bones, fluttering over magical flesh, squeezing and grasping and giving him something to feel, something he'd yearned for for such a long time and didn't know it.

God…fuck those mages. For what they'd done to everyone, to his family, to him. How dare they stunt him like a sapling with too little water, his body growing but his mind left behind to race screaming and pleading to catch up now? He wanted to be good for you, wanted to be confident and suave and wonderful…not questioning every damn thing he did in your presence, hoping he didn't step wrong and with no prior experience to draw off of. 

His phone chimed again.

11:45 I really had fun last night, I hope you did too. and about what you told me…don't worry about it. I have no complaints ;) It doesn't bother me.

11:46 your shirt was a good color for you, I think it matches that dress I sent you. 

He stared out the window, a slow smile spreading across his face. What the hell, why not be honest? Be himself, be himself.

…‘himself’ wanted to wrap around you like a koala, or maybe run his tongue up your neck like a damn lollipop. He was almost twenty-nine years old for heaven's sake, how did sixteen year old manage feeling like this??

11:49 I really liked what you wore last night, it reminded me of spring! I had a great time too

11:49 And I'm happy to hear that. 

11:49 I was nervous to tell you

Your answer was instant.

11:50 don't be. nothing to be ashamed of. I've only dated-dated like four people so it's not like I'm drowning in experience lol

Your kindness called to him; he wanted to do something nice for you, money burning a hole in his metaphorical pocket. 

11:51 You should wear that dress again sometime, for me. We can go out to Victor's, the new Italian place? They have a dress code. I bet everyone would be jealous of how amazing we'll look! :P

11:52 aren't you a flatterer?? okay! it's a date ;) 

He got dressed in a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, vegetating on the couch and texting you memes and other nonsense for the rest of the day…

…and it was wonderful.

Work the next week passed in a blur; he could barely focus on the new stock coming in. He did set aside one of the extra large drafting tablets just for you, much to your excitement-  Bill stopped by for a few minutes, saw what he'd done, and ran his fingernail over the edge, barely scuffing the label.

“Oops, better damage it out. Would hate to sell bad product. Might as well take it home or give it away.”

Papyrus didn't say anything, only gave the man a bright, grateful smile, and got a pat on the shoulder in return. He spent an inordinate amount of his time texting you, and often stopped by to chat Tuesday and Thursday night when you came into the café to work. Each time he approached you, you leaned forward, smiling and reaching for him…and it felt so, so good. He'd never gotten so many lingering hugs and touches, especially not when he walked you out to your car at closing and was rewarded with kisses both times. He wanted more, wanted to hold you longer, wanted your body pressed warm and safe against his…but it was probably too early to say any of that.

Excavating Sans from the house the next Saturday evening was an…interesting chore. He had ensconced himself on the couch, wrapped in blankets and settled in for a night of video games. When Undyne, Alphys and Papyrus all couldn't convince him to come along to the street fair, Undyne gave Papyrus an evil look, and mouthed, “Hold on” as she texted someone. 

A minute later, he heard a door on one of the waiting cars out front open and close. Heels clicked on their sidewalk….and Sans jerked, shooting a filthy look toward the three of them as they lounged around the kitchen island. 

“you seriously fucking did not-”

“Lazy as usual?” Catty's voice was a low draw as she opened the door, her outfit sexy as hell and not at all appropriate for a street fair; tiny white shorts that showed off the plumpness of her thighs and the richness of her purple fur, a skin tight blue tank top that went high on her neck, and platform sandals.

Papyrus, Undyne and Alphys all admired her, grinning at each other conspiratorially while she rolled her eyes, walking up to Sans who quickly threw the blankets off. They left in a rush as she draped herself over the back of the couch, examining her claws. “So you're just gonna stay home and do nothing, huh? Just gonna work until you keel over?”

Once they were outside, Papyrus let out the giggle he'd been holding in; his brother looked like death the moment he'd heard the woman's voice. Then Undyne got a text-

Catty Kitty, 5:34: You all just go on ahead 

Catty Kitty, 5:34: We'll catch up ;)

That made them all laugh, wide-eyed in surprise; it was practically confirmation of something they'd all gossiped about for years . They shrugged at each other and left, Papyrus riding with Undyne and Alphys this time. When they parked in the large field beside the main road and got out, you bounced up to him, hugging him and smiling into his face. Roger and his apparent boyfriend, a Rabbit Monster named Jax Papyrus recognized as a worker in the palace, came wandering up from where you’d all been waiting next to the entrance.

“Hi!” Oh you were so cute, in a pair of soft cotton shorts and a tank top. 

Undyne and Alphys went over to Roger and Jax, leaving Papyrus a moment with you.

“HI! ARE YOU EXCITED?”

You giggled, twisting back and forth in his arms. “Of course I am! I want to win a prize at one of the games- we had like no local carnivals back where I lived before, and the arcades had shitty prizes…but I'm so baaaad at theeeemmmm…”

Papyrus chuckled as you gazed up at him hopefully with huge eyes. “I’LL DO MY BEST!”

Of course he won. Just like Undyne, the two of them sweeping games for tickets until they had enough for both their women to pick something out. Alphys fell in love with a Gundam; you picked a giant teddy bear backpack. Holding hands and wandering along, neither of you saw Undyne, Alphys, Roger and Jax all smiling hugely at each other over how cute the two of you were. 

You all rode rides, watched a cowboy show, and finally fell on all the greasy, delicious fair food. Then you found a boozy milkshake stand and bought one for yourself and him, and an alcoholic slushy for Undyne and Alphys- Jax and Roger had already gotten their own. They were ridiculously strong; even Undyne coughed at first. “Jeeesus.”

Papyrus draped an arm around your shoulders, sipping happily and stealing tater tots from you. Getting you both turkey legs, he settled down at a picnic table with you and everyone else, munching. 

As she finished her mozz sticks, Alphys glanced over at a face painter nearby. “I g-guess it would be w-w-weird for me to go to her, right? It's probably only for k-kids?”

You cocked a brow, then smiled, leaning on his shoulder to slide out of the picnic table. “Why shouldn't we? Come on Alphys let's go! It doesn't have to be just for kids. I’ll go too.”

The other woman hesitated, picking her claw nervously. “W-well that’s okay, I…we d-don’t have to, I d-don’t w-w-want people to think w-we’re weird-”

You looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her along. “And they won’t! Who cares if everyone else is boring? It doesn’t mean we have to be, come on! I wanna do it now, don’t make me go by myself.”

Those were the magic words. Beside him, Undyne smiled softly, the way she only did for her wife. “I bet the artist will think it’s really cool babe, having a yellow background to work on. Not many yellow Monsters out there!”

He watched the two of you walk off, Alphys still stuttering as you towed her toward the face painter. Undyne chuckled, getting up to throw away her sandwich wrapper. 

As she did, Roger turned to Papyrus, his warm, southern drawl serious. “Alright, this seems like as good a time as any…I gotta do the best friend thing here, okay?”

Pleasantly tipsy and bemused and starting in on a frozen margarita, he nodded, smiling. “OKAY. BEST FRIEND THING AWAY.”

Roger snorted, shaking his head. “...jeez louise. She was right about you, you're as sweet as sugar.” His boyfriend nodded, fishing for a last bit of cheese with a nacho chip. “I told you. There’s a reason our royal family trusts Papyrus to introduce Monsters to new people.”

Papyrus waved that off, sagging into the hand under his chin. The night was cool, the fair beautiful and full of colorful people and lights, and it was relaxing just to be in the middle of it all. “NONSENSE. BY THE TIME PEOPLE MEET ME, THEY’VE ALREADY MET AT LEAST SOME MONSTERS. I JUST…SMOOTH THE WAY A LITTLE.” He turned to watch you laugh at something Alphys said, standing beside her as she climbed into the face painter’s chair and started looking at the menu…which meant he missed Jax’s gesture, as if to say, “See what I mean?”

Roger shook his head, smiling in bemusement. “You seem really great honestly, so just…treat her well. Her last relationship? He was an absolute jerk-”

That made Papyrus look away from you sharply, fixing his eye on the man.

“-like a real piece of shit; I should know. He's my brother. And he really fucked her over, she literally had to break her lease and pay a ton of money to get away from him.”

The Skeleton frowned as Roger sighed. 

“It’s a long story, and it's hers to tell. But…yeah. Be good to her. She's a really good person, and she deserves someone who cares about her and won't be hateful or controlling.”

Undyne hummed, making Papyrus twitch; he hadn’t noticed her coming up behind him. “Papyrus isn't like that. He's all sweet and nice and shi-”

“WHAT DID HE DO?” 

Roger glanced from Undyne back to the other man, who hadn’t moved from his comfortable, seemingly-relaxed position. But it was the slight, slight touch of sharpness in his interruption that drew the human’s eye; the barest hint of deeper waters under the placid kindness that was Papyrus. 

“...the usual dirtbag shit. She was in tears when she finally told me, I think she was afraid I’d tell her to fuck off. I never knew he acted like that, but once she told me? A lot of stuff started to make sense.”

Papyrus waited…and his silence seemed to inspire Roger to keep talking. “Said he was depressed, that he’d hurt himself every time she did something he didn’t like…which was everything. Every hobby, every friend, even talking to her family. Called her every second she wasn’t home. Kept her trapped in that apartment like a prison, didn’t let her leave. And maybe other things too.” He glanced over at you again, making sure you couldn't hear. “She never said anything about this…but she flinches if people yell, or raise their hand too fast near her. It went on for two years before I found out.”

Jax was shaking his head sadly, staring at the table, and Roger was playing with a straw, not looking at anyone as he told his friend’s secrets. 

Only because of where she stood did Undyne notice that, on the ground under where Papyrus sat, a double-handful of gravel shivered, flickering orange-blue for just a moment as it rose a few inches off the ground…and fell again. A single, fleeting loss of magical control; an emotion made manifest through power rather than expression. And that, more than anything, told Undyne that her friend really had grown up…and really did care for you. For there was nothing more sure about Papyrus than his control; nothing more reliable than his grip on his magic. It came as innately as breathing to him, that strange Skeleton ancestry that let him bend the rules of possibility just the tiniest bit. 

(Frisk, telling her how they were always, always left okay…never knocked out by his magic no matter how many seemingly uncontrolled attacks were thrown at them.)

(Watching as he walked on seemingly nothing, stepping off midair as they trained in hand-to-hand; a ‘double jump’ that she only saw a single time before, wide-eyed, he distracted her with a flurry of bone darts. He never did it again, save for the one time he made her and Frisk both laugh by flash stepping out her window on that first fateful visit, breaking the tension between them. She never asked how he did it.)

(An orange light in his eye when he worked normal magic, yet able to perform blue magic too; the double-gift so rare that only a handful of Monsters in the kingdom had it. Even she didn’t. Even Asgore didn’t.)

“TWO YEARS?”

Roger nodded. “Yeah.” 

A peal of your laughter rang out over the crowd, Alphys smacking at you as you danced away from her grip. 

“NO ONE SHOULD BE TRAPPED SOMEWHERE THEY DON’T WANT TO BE. NO ONE SHOULD DO THAT TO ANOTHER PERSON IF THEY LOVE THEM.”

Undyne put her hand on his shoulder, a silent support, and Jax looked up at them both- three people who had been trapped since their earliest memories…three people who had only fairly recently found freedom. 

“I WON'T HURT HER.” Papyrus was serious as he looked at Roger. “I WON'T.”

Roger smiled, reaching over and gripping his arm for a moment. “I believe you. I just…had to say something. I didn't protect her for all that time, so I feel like I need to now.” He glanced over at you, holding a drink out to Alphys as the facepainter began working on her. “That's why I moved down here with her. We were both at dead end jobs anyway, and once I found out what Cory did…I was happy to leave too. I introduced them to each other, I never knew…well. It's done now.”

Jax nudged him. “And met me the same day you got here, lucky you!”

After a few minutes, you and Undyne came bouncing back- her with a swirling, rainbow tiger design, you with half your face done as a sugar skull. Papyrus stood to greet you and throw out his cup, and then his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Sans, 7:48 so im probably not gonna be home tonight, just an fyi

He nodded fondly- good. Anything besides languishing at home or working himself to death was good for his brother, especially if someone as pushy as Catty was involved to keep him on his toes. 

7:49 Good! Have fun!

Turning to you, he reached out and played with the sleeve of your t-shirt. You were sipping on the end of Alphys's slushy, grinning up at him.

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO COME BACK WITH ME? WE COULD, I DUNNO, WATCH A MOVIE OR SOMETHING?” He smiled shyly, looking over your head rather than meet your eye. “I'M NOT READY FOR TONIGHT TO BE OVER WITH. AND MY BROTHER ISN'T HOME TO BE DISRUPTIVE.”

You nodded, nuzzling adorably into his chest and swaying a little on your feet. “I would love that.” Then you blew out a breath, grinning up at him. “I think…I'm a little drunk.”

He chuckled. “YEAH? WE HAVE HUMAN MEDICINE IF YOU NEED IT.”

When it was time to leave, Undyne herded you both back to her car, grabbing Papyrus by the collar as he veered off toward a random junk stand. “Nope! Home, weenies! Go smooch on the couch and pass out together or something.” 

You were giggling so hard you could hardly walk; Undyne eventually resorted to picking you up. Then Papyrus got jealous, and snatched you out of her arms, doing his best not to stumble as you laughed against his chest, breathily bitching about being traded around like a purse. When you finally caught your breath enough to talk, you pointed at Undyne over his shoulder, confident enough now in his grip to squirm a bit. “You Monsters are ridiculous! How are you so strong??”

The Kelpie laughed loudly. “Pssh, you humans are just weak as fuck.” She flexed her bicep and kissed it, and that for some reason made Alphys snort so hard that she snarfed her slushy, and you all had to slow down as she hacked out a lung, as properly sauced as you and Papyrus were. Then she saw a water-shooter game near the entrance and started off toward it excitedly.

Undyne rolled her eyes. “Dear lord how did I get stuck being the mom, everyone GET TO THE DAMN CAR! That includes you, wife! Move that cute little ass!” She held Alphy's tail-tip like a toddler's backpack leash, using her shoulder to rush Papyrus and you toward the car, and finally the three of you fell in, Alphys collapsing in the front seat with tears in her eyes from laughing, you and Papyrus snuggled in back. 

She started the car and pulled out of the field into the main road, Alphys whining at the bumpy ride and reaching forward to turn on the radio. “Alright! Anyone needs to barf, you either tell me or you pay for the detailing.”

You scoffed. “I'm not that drunk!”

Leaning into your shoulder, Papyrus whispered “I AM!” like a secret. You'd looked so pretty all night, so deliciously snuggleable and squeezable; he sat on his hands rather than molest you in the back seat, contenting himself with pressing a soft kiss to your neck as you gazed out the window. That made you jump a little, turning to give him a look full of delicious promise. Then Alphys handed you some makeup wipes from her purse to get the facepaint off, giving Papyrus ample time to sit back and admire your cleavage.

That done, you typed a message out on your phone, showing it to him. 

You look so hot right now. I like you in a t-shirt, I only ever get to see you in work clothes 

Papyrus glanced down shyly, taking the phone from you.

“ If you make me blush, my cheeks will glow and it will be VERY EMBARRASSING so stop it…until we get home. Then you may compliment away and I shall just collapse in a puddle of happy orange ooze.”

Your smile was liquid hot, and it lit a fire low in his belly. He debated kissing you hard right in the back seat…no. He'd wait.

At least until he had you in his house.

Chapter Text

Of course you'd admired him; tall and handsome, ridiculously cute with children and unendingly polite to everyone he met. Accomplished at his job and yet, after the barest google search, so much more accomplished elsewhere. An actual ambassador for his people, like officially listed on their .org website with a photo and a bio and everything, an ‘honor guard’ of the king and representative to foreign countries. 

You'd started coming to the shop around May, looking for a quiet, peaceful place to do drafting work that wasn't at home (where the distractions were) but wasn't at work (where the doldrums were)...and ended up terribly distracted anyway because my god the man was fascinating. He'd made you a bit nervous at first..but of course he did. From a distance or at first glance, he really did look like a literal human skeleton, a reanimated corpse come smoothly back to life.

But how quickly that impression faded. It made perfect sense for him to be an ambassador of his people. His very presence invited one to look closer, to think deeper about Monsters as a whole. For the moment you paid any sort of real attention to him, It was obvious how alive, how unique and stunning, he really was. 

Bones that were not made of hard inflexible minerals, but rather slightly almost malleable, more like a living thing. An immensely expressive face, with thin lips and a shallow point of a nose above a small gap like a normal human skeleton would have. A prominent brow and wide, bright smile that gave him almost over exaggerated expressions at times, until you realized that was on purpose. The man was, for lack of better terms, acting. Acting almost all of the time, putting on a performance of exuberance that drew people in helplessly. Shoppers would go from nervous to giggling within minutes at his antics. Children fell in love almost instantly, hanging off his gangly legs as he pretended to be dragged down by their weight. 

Something about him, something about how he presented himself, how he spoke…it silently offered safety. Happiness. You didn't know much about Monsters and magic beyond what was easily available to the public, but you wondered if they had some sort of innate field effect, a regional passive power that sank into a place the longer they were in it. 

Because you could see your own cliche. The woman running from a man who’d hurt her, moving to a new city and a new life. Relearning how to be a person again, how to not check your phone every second for fear of a hateful message or a hundred missed calls. Forcing yourself to be comfortable going out and doing things again, when for two miserable fucking years you'd had a person screaming at you to not, threatening if you did.

All of that faded in his lovely book store, with a tiny cafe and an impressive stock of more unusual office supplies, the things you actually needed for your work. The anxiety, the looking over your shoulder…gone. Something in you was quieted here, safe and comforted. It knew that there was a force between these walls that would not allow harm to come to those within them; an inexplicable sensation that you'd never be able to admit aloud for fear of sounding crazy.

And though it was silly- you'd never even gotten the courage to speak to the man beyond a couple friendly words here and there -you daydreamed about him. Him keeping you safe, him smiling at you in that soft, rare way that you'd seen only a few times, when the performance was put on hold and he was simply himself. What that tall body would feel like next to yours, those large hands…those slight lips.

You'd been building up your courage to talk to him when the debacle with the drink occurred. God you'd been embarrassed, Especially since it happened in front of him, and you could see him watching from the corner of your eye, across the main room. You'd been almost looking forward to going to your car, to grab your wallet and have a chance to scream some of your embarrassment out… when he walked up and did one of the most thoughtlessly sweet things a relative stranger had ever done for you. 

Everything about the way he'd handled that situation spoke of gentleness, of kindness. Of a man so self-aware of how he presented himself to you that it drew you in. Shamefully, you knew you'd held his hand for too long in that moment…but you hadn't wanted to let go, for his had curled easily around yours, and it felt nice to be touched so carefully. And then he’d bowed, like something from a movie; pressing the most chaste of kisses to the top of your fingers, not the back of your hand as you always thought was the way of such things…

You didn't sleep that night. Debating, debating…was it too soon? Were you too damaged? Again and again you touched your lips to where he had…

And came to a decision, smiling. 

He let you in the front door lest you notice the particular car in his garage, directing you to the couch and the remote as he went toward the kitchen for snacks. Pouring chips into a bowl and throwing popcorn in the microwave, he got a text from Undyne.

Undyne 8:38 You're both drunk, don't psych yourself out. Have fun, and if it comes to it- follow her lead. Ask her what to do, ask her what feels good- get her to show you if she will. Just listen, and she'll tell you. Don't be afraid to ask. And don't rush yourself. 

And then a few seconds later 

Undyne 8:39 I'm really happy for you. You deserve this. Roger said earlier that she's texted him NONSTOP about you, ever since last week. 

He squeezed the phone to his chest for a moment, thanking the stars for a friend who cared enough about him to send something like that. 

Was he ready to have sex with you, as Undyne implied? He didn't think so…not quite yet. 

Did he want to do other fun, sexy things with you? Hell yes. Preferably while he was tipsy and relaxed, alcohol loosening him enough to not second guess everything he did. 

He tossed you a few bottles of water, pointing out that the sofa pulled out into a bed. You nodded, smiling and tugging it out as he went and fished out spare blankets and pillows from the closet in the guest bedroom. 

As he brought the snacks out, you rearranged the blankets, pillows and cushions to your preference, a nice little nest for the two of you to snuggle into. You stayed sitting up but he flopped back to lean against the cushions, pressing his hands to his eyes as he groaned.

“Can we watch a happy movie?”

“SURE, YOU PICK. I'M JUST GONNA LAY HERE AND DRINK WATER UNTIL I CAN FEEL MY TOES AGAIN.”

You giggled. “Lightweight!”

Rolling his eyes, he flapped a hand at you. “OF COURSE I AM. I'M JUST A SKELETON!” He poked your belly, making you squeak. “NO MUSCLES OR ORGANS OR SUCH TO ABSORB ALL THE ALCOHOL.”

As you scrolled down to animated movies, you leaned over and took his hand. “Thank you for winning me a teddy bear!” You motioned back at the huge bear, now sitting at the kitchen table like he was waiting for dinner. “I'm gonna name him…Reginald.”

Papyrus smiled. “THE PERFECT NAME FOR A DISTINGUISHED GENTLEMAN.”

Stretching, you twisted back and forth, popping your back; his eye was glued to the little poof of your hip over the waistband of your shorts. In his silly state he almost reached out to grab it, only stopping himself as you bounced in place. “Oh, Ponyo! Is that okay?”

He nodded, happy just to spend time with you and enjoy the warm buzz in his belly. As time passed, you slowly relaxed beside him, slouching down until you were snuggled onto his chest, your legs tangled with his. It awed him, how precious you felt in his arms. How delicate and fragile, though he knew you weren't. He wanted to protect you, to make you smile and make you happy…how could someone have hurt you? Trapped you in your own home, abused you for nothing more than living your life happily and sharing it WITH them?

Caught up in dark thoughts, he pulled you closer, putting both arms around you like he could shield you from what had happened to you before. Not knowing what he was thinking, you smiled up at him, leaning up and in to kiss the edge of his jaw.

It sent a tremble through him for just a moment, his flighty mind losing all focus on what he'd been upset about as his breath caught. You hummed, nosing his chin up so you could press a kiss to the underside, where his neck would join his jaw…

“OH…”  

He immediately blushed orange, embarrassed to have made a noise from just that…but your eyes darkened as he did, biting your lip. Slowly, liquidly, you leaned in and kissed him in the same place…and then sucked ever so gently there, a tiny touch of your teeth and tongue. It made him sigh, his head falling back against the pillows to let you do whatever you wished as butterflies spread through his belly. You worked your way down his neck, tiny touches of heat and desire, as he stroked his hands over your arms, your face, your back…

Movie forgotten, you slid half into his lap, whispering, “Is this okay?”

He nodded, gathering his bravery to kiss you, catching your chin and pulling you in to press his lips to yours. Then, copying you before, he pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips. “YOU FEEL SO GOOD TO ME. I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO REACT TO IT, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF.”

You huffed out a breath, kissing him on his lips, his shallow nose, and both cheeks. “What do you want to do?”

Oh that was a dangerous question. He hesitated, and there must have been some answer in his face, for you bit your lip, draping your arms around his neck and moving to fully straddle his lap. He helped you with his hands on your waist, squeezing to admire the impossibly pillowy feel of you. 

“I don't…I don't want to overwhelm you. I know we've only really been on two dates, I…”

Papyrus shook his head. “I…YOU WOULDN'T. WELL, I AM …OVERWHELMED, I MEAN, AS HECK. BUT THAT'S BECAUSE I FEEL LIKE I SHOULD KNOW…MORE. AND I DON'T.”

Some tiny noise left you then, and you leaned in to press kisses up his neck with a sudden desperation that made him gasp. You spoke between them, breathing a little hard. “Please, don't…please don't think…god Papyrus don't worry about that, you're fine.” Then you ran your mouth up to the gap behind his jaw and pressed a kiss right below it…

“Y-YOU SHOULD, SHOULD…” Oh he couldn't say it.

You smiled against his skull, murmuring into the bone. “What should I do, baby?” 

The pet name made him immediately rock hard. When he shook his head, you scooted just a bit closer, letting your legs relax enough to sit down onto his thighs properly…and something else too. “I don't know anything about Skeletons. We're in the same boat as each other.” A single, slow griiind against his trapped, hard length brought a low sound into his throat, halfway between a breath and a groan. “Tell me what feels good.”

“YOU SHOULD P-PUT YOUR TONGUE THERE…BUT WOULDN’T THAT BE WEIRD FOR YOU? HUMANS DON'T HA- AH…DAMN….”

Papyrus wasn't often one for swearing. Much like his oldest brother, he found it boring and uninspired most of the time…

This was not one of those times. You'd leaned in, running your clever little tongue right along the gap above his jaw…and then dipped it slightly in, touching along the inside edge. He couldn't stop himself; he pulled you down by the waist gracelessly, pressing his hips up into you, wanting something, anything to put pressure on his length as it pulsed for your touch. 

Your gasp made him freeze. “S-SORRY, I-” 

His words were cut off by your lips, crashing into his mouth, your…oh, oh god, your tongue, pressing up against his insistently. Instantly he understood the appeal of making out in a way he never had before, for all he could think of was what that would feel like on his cock. Giddy with booze and desire, he groaned into your mouth, his grip dropping to your hips, humping up into you through his thankfully thin shorts and yours as he curled his tongue against yours and imagined it was your pussy instead. He returned to you again and again, panting for breath he didn't really need and swallowing every sigh and little noise from your throat. You began to move with him, pulling away to gasp, and he dropped his mouth to copy you and press open kisses down your neck.

“Oh my god…Papyrus…yes… ”

If he heard you moan his name like that a million times it still wouldn't be enough. He'd never heard his own voice so deep before as he leaned back to catch your eye; god your face was beautiful, your brows furrowed and your lips parted in pleasure. “DOES THIS FEEL GOOD?”

You laughed a little, changing the angle that you were rocking down onto him. “You feel good, so good..." Shivering in his hands, you started to move with him in earnest. "How far...how far do you want this to go? Because I could...this..."

He almost felt like he was holding his breath as you stopped yourself mid-sentence. "YEAH? WHAT, WHAT WERE YOU G-GONNA SAY?"

The heat between your legs was unbearable; as you took a breath, he swore he could hear a faintly wet sound as he pulled you down harder to grind against his clothed cock, and grit his teeth in overwhelm and excitement. "I...I could c-cum from this, for real, I've never…fuck this feels so good, literally the perfect angle, I...”

Oh yes. He let his head fall back again, staring at you from under lowered eyelids, a wave of something almost predatory in its singular focus coming over him. “I WANNA SEE IT.” He needed it like water, needed it like a drug; a medicine for every hurt he'd ever felt, lonely and left behind in the Underground. “GOD I…SO BADLY, ON ME, PLEASE-”

It was like every particle of his dust, every speck of light in his Soul, was focused on you, panting and hot and lovely in his grip. He could have done this for hours, the movie playing forgotten behind you. You were running your hands over his chest, his skull, his shoulders; inviting him to gently knead your clothed breasts with your hands over his after shoving your bra down below them, only a thin t-shirt separating the two of you. He scoffed aloud at their impossible softness, a pinnacle of pillowy-ness that he couldn't hardly believe was real. Only your nipples were hard; tempting little beads that he rolled between his fingertips and earning a soft cry from you when he did…and through all of it, you moved on top of him, the hollowness of his body the perfect match to the curve of yours, letting him press so completely up against you that if there hadn't been thin cloth in the way, he'd have been buried in your heat.

He couldn't stop the sounds of pleasure that left him, sighing at the tremble in your hips and groaning unabashedly as you pushed his shirt up to run your hands along his ribs. “YES…ON THE INSIDE, ON THE…”

You slid your fingertips along the inner edge of the slim bones, a purr of satisfaction in your voice; he dropped his grip back down to your hips and used it to put more force behind your grinding. “So soft here…not just bone?”

He shook his head, a warning twinge of pleasure building in his cock as he dragged you back and forth over it. “NO…NOT LIKE YOU ARE, IT'S DIFFERENT…OH BUNNY, WOW…I…YOU FEEL SO GOOD.”

Giggling and moaning at the same time, you dropped your head to his shoulder, your breath coming higher and tighter in your chest. Something in him knew what that meant, something instinctual and sure. “B-bunny?”

Oh god, oh fuck, he was close, he was going to cum from this and it felt amazing. So much better with you here, so much stronger, more overwhelming. “L-LIKE A CINNAMON BUNNY, FROM THE UNDERGROUND. SWEET AND SOFT AND-AND…I…”

“Fuck that's so sweet, that you see me like that…” Your hips jerked in his grasp. “I'm close, I…oh my god, baby, don't stop I'm gonna cum, please-”

He felt obsessed, he felt manic; he'd never stop until you begged him to, until you were sweet and gasping and exhausted in his arms, fuck, god he liked you so much, why hadn't he done this sooner, he-

“Don't stop!” 

“COME ON-”

“Yes!”

“OH…”

And then, more beautiful than he could have imagined, more lovely than he'd ever pictured, you started to shake hard in his arms, crying out his name as your eyes squeezed shut…how could he do anything but follow you? His knees pulled up, cradling you between his body and his legs, one hand locking into the crease of your thigh as the other rose to twist into your hair. 

God, god it was so intense with another person there, sweet and hot and so much more than it had ever been before. The noise you made as he pulled you down hard, dragging your clenching, sensitized pussy along his twitching cock was one he'd remember for the rest of his life. He panted, moaning as he came in long pulses…and then nearly cried out as you leaned forward and bit him hard on the clavicle, the neck, soothing each bite with little licks and kisses. The tiny pain made the pleasure so much richer, and he half wondered if you'd slap him some time, just to see how it felt. The thought made him rougher than he meant to be, using more strength to grind up against you.

“Oh god, oh my god…so m-much, I'm so sensitive right now, wait, please-”

For all that the words sounded like you wanted him to stop, your tone didn't sound much like it at all. And he remembered reading that some women could cum many times in a row, without stopping, without a break…

“CAN I F-FINGER YOU?” He ignored his own trepidation, high on the feeling of you and the pleasure sinking through his whole body, and wanting to indulge a fantasy he'd had since he was a teenager.

You didn't say anything, only whined in your throat as you caught your breath for a moment...but then you nodded hesitantly as you kissed him hard, speaking against his lips, “You don't have to...”

“I WANT TO.” 

If he hadn't had his eyes closed for the kiss, he'd have seen the absolutely shocked, then delighted look that came over your face. “O-okay…okay.”

He shoved a hand down your shorts, feeling dizzy like he'd had ten drinks, not two, and absolutely gobsmacked by how wet you were, how impossibly soft compared to him. Your lips were so plush, parting so easily to his touch…and the inner folds gossamer, delicate beyond imagining. And then…your entrance, tiny and tight even around his finger tip.

“I-I DON'T…DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU, I…YOU'RE SO SOFT COMPARED TO ME-” he nearly felt panicked, panting and rocking with you now like he was fucking you as you started to move in time with his stroking touch. “I DON’T-”

You took his face in your hands and kissed him so filthily, so thoroughly, that he felt like he'd scream from sensation, running your tongue along the back of his teeth and practically down his throat. “You won't, you won't…please…slide a finger inside me, then two, to stretch me out-”

“ CHRIST-”

“-and move in and out fast like you're fucking me. I already came once, and that'll make it happen again so fast, please, please hurry-”

He did as he was told, staring at your face like it held the secret of creation itself, following every little cue. Every “Faster-”, every “H-harder, please!”, every “Oh my god that feels good, just like that…”- it all made him more confident, loving that you told him exactly what to do. Undyne was right- all he had to do was listen. And god you were wet, so wet now that it was starting to drip down his hand; it made him terribly thirsty in so many ways.

Soon, it was less of a pumping in and out motion and more of a fast, back-and-forth, almost sawing, grinding movement, pressing his fingers again and again against a rough patch inside of you. It must have been intense, for your body tried to get away without you even meaning to, writhing and fighting against his hold while you gripped his shoulders and begged him to keep going.

Then suddenly your eyes got wide. “W-wait, oh fuck, honey-”

He hummed, not stopping, but showing he was listening; you were practically sitting down into his hand now, your knees all but having given out. “Pap, wait I'll make a mess, I…human women, sometimes it's so much wetter, hold on, your pants, the blanket, I-”

Oh he knew what this was. One time, two or three years ago, he and Undyne had gotten absolutely wasted and she'd waxed poetic about her wife's passion in bed, hidden behind shyness and nerves. He'd learned that night that sometimes, if a woman was absolutely slammed by pleasure, fingered in just the right way…she could gush wetter than a man cumming, soaking the bed beneath her in the most tremendous type of orgasm possible. The image had stuck with him for months, as did he and Undyne's personal giggle fits at the aptly named ‘Squirt’ soda.

He cradled your shoulders, pulling you in as best he could as he fingered you hard, making you thrash in his lap. “DO IT, BLANKETS CAN BE WASHED…I'VE GOT A PAIR OF ALPHY'S SWEATPANTS HERE THAT SHOULD FIT YOU. PLEASE, PLEASE LET ME FEEL IT BUNNY, PLEASE-”

You went nearly silent, staring into his eyes, your breath catching, your expression closer to a sob than anything-

-and then you broke, your back arching, your nails digging into his shoulders, his name leaving your lips halfway to a wail…. 

…and Papyrus came in his pants for a second time. It shocked him, made him snap forward to crush you to his chest, almost whining through his teeth from overstimulation as you cried out again and again, a rush of warm wetness flooding over his fingers as your pussy clenched and fluttered around his hand. 

He knew, conceptually, that Monsters adapted to their partners…but surely not after this short of time together? Surely not so completely that your pleasure drew his own forth like a thunderclap, no stimulation at all except your voice and gentle hands petting everywhere you could reach, your sweet eyes staring at him with gratitude and overwhelm as you moaned brokenly...

God he wanted this every day, every night; it was amazing, you were amazing-

“Oh my god thank you, fuck yes…Papyrus, Papyrus..." You shivered on his chest, and it felt like coming home. "Honey did you cum again?”

Nodding, he let his head fall back as he clutched you close, panting like he had just sprinted a marathon and so full of affection that it almost ached. “That's so hot, twice for me…oh, you're so handsome, your face just now…”

He knew damn well that your compliments had him blushing so brightly that it dimly lit the room with orange light, and he didn't care. Slowly, for he knew how damn sensitive he was in this moment and didn't want to hurt you if you were the same, he pulled his hand free of your fluttering sex, making you squeak…and, fuck it, brought his fingers to his mouth. He had to, had to. 

Oh delicious. Tart and lovely, like the taste of your skin multiplied. Some beautifully broken noise left you, and he opened his eyes from his savoring to find you watching him from his shoulder with your jaw dropped. 

“You…you…”

He was possessed, or something. A spirit of filthy pleasure having moved into and taken over his Soul... or perhaps he was just listening to his own instincts. For when he raised the same hand and pressed two fingers to your lips, cradled as you were on his chest, you opened your mouth so he could rub them on your tongue; mixing faintly glowing orange spit and your own juices on that pink little muscle…and it was as satisfying as his best race, as heady as the finest wine he'd ever drank with the King. Your pliability, your trust in letting him do this, letting him lead you to something he wanted just because he wanted it…

You sat up enough to grin at him, exhausted, shaking your head and breathing hard. “Tell me you were being honest, when you said I was your first. I can't hardly believe it.” Oh your voice was wrecked, rough and lovely.

“CROSS MY SOUL.”

Laughing, you fell back down onto him. “A natural pervert then...lucky me. God, you're so fun.”

He hesitated-

“DO YOU WANT TO GO OUT WITH ME? LIKE OFFICIALLY BE MY…MY GIRLFRIEND?”

'Please...please.'

Your little cry of delight, and the way you hugged him hard enough to make his bones creak, was answer enough…but then-

“Yes! Yes, please…yes. I really would.” You kissed the side of his head, then whispered against his skull, "And then that would make you my boyfriend."

He was so, so happy. 

Chapter Text

The rest of the night was a blur of affection. He bundled the besmirched blankets, his shorts, and your shorts and underwear into the washer as you hugged him from behind, giggling madly while he fake-grumbled over how hard it was to move with you hanging off him. Then you padded into his bathroom for a shower while he rummaged through the guest room dresser; he had a wide assortment of left-behind clothing from friends, and finally fished out Alphys’ sweatpants and a Star Wars tank top he'd swiped from the bookstore for her years ago. Then he spent ten minutes madly cleaning his bedroom, which was immaculate except for the clothing absolutely everywhere.

You came wandering in wrapped in a towel, your hair wet and brushed back. “Undyne told me she had stuff over here that I could use, I love that shampoo oh my gosh.” Smiling, you snuggled into his arms. “How are you feeling?”

He laughed in spite of himself; he'd never felt better in his life. “AMAZING. FANTASTIC.” Pulling you in, he hugged you, breathing in your clean, wet hair and running his hands over your damp arms. He twisted back and forth, nuzzling against you and tickling your sides gently as you giggled.

So sex-drunk and enamored of you, he didn't notice he was working the towel loose. As he pushed you back to arms length to admire your laughing face…it fell. 

At first you flinched, raising your hands to cover your chest…but let them fall again as he blinked, stupefied. 

“Pretty different from a Skeleton, huh?” You could hear the nervousness in your own voice. He nodded, his hands wavering for a moment before sliding up the curve of your waist, his fingertips digging in just enough to leave slightly pinkened marks behind. It made you shiver; he was just so warm, especially compared to your water-cool skin. It was a nerve-wracking thing, coming off a night of drinks to be bare naked in front of your boyfriend of a little over a week- a boyfriend who, by his own admission, had never dated another woman before. 

And then he did something so wrenchingly sweet that you, uncharacteristically, nearly teared up; he bent down, picked up the towel, and held it out for you to wrap up in. His face was gravely serious. 

“THAT SCARED YOU.” The man had the clearest, most carrying tenor voice you'd ever heard; wasted on anything short of radio or the stage. Even now, murmuring gently, you could have heard him across the house, as if the very air itself played and flirted with the touch of his words. “I DON'T LIKE THAT.”

Well yes okay, it had, a little. Mostly from self-consciousness and nerves, and only a tiny bit from being so exposed to him, someone so sweet but admittedly someone you didn't know super well yet.

You bit your lip, wrapping the towel around yourself. “Not…scared, really. More just nervous. How did you…?” 

He reached out, playing with a damp curl. “I COULD FEEL IT. IN YOUR SOUL. I DON'T EVER LIKE MAKING PEOPLE SCARED…OR NERVOUS.” Stepping back, he gestured to a pile of clothing on his bed. “I TOLD YOU I HAD STUFF FOR YOU TO WEAR! THEN WE MUST RESTART THE MOVIE, I AM VERY ENAMORED OF THE LITTLE GOLDFISH GIRL.”

He closed the door behind him, leaving you in his room to press your hands to your cheeks. Oh, oh this man. How could he be so sweet? So considerate? Did he have some sort of etiquette training or something, what was this? No wonder so many humans hated Monsters- they were walking examples of how to be decent people, threatening shitheads everywhere with their very existence.

You got dressed, finger combing your hair to lay nicely, then took a second to snoop because why the hell not. 

The first thing you saw was the nerd stuff; oh goodness, your new boyfriend was an enormous fucking geek. Giggling softly, you eyeballed the huge bookshelf of comic books and the display case of Gundams and other models. Your sister would love him, you thought, being a 40k girly herself. But the second bookshelf on the opposite side of his bed was much different. Classical literature, some even in other languages. Monster books, well-worn and beautifully handmade like most of their goods. Home repair books. Carpentry and metalworking guides. Histories on fencing and sword fighting…and three entire shelves of car-related texts. His desk was organized chaos; textbooks for school mixed with French and Spanish language guides, and some very official looking letters with real silk ribbons and signatures, each stamped with the Monster royal seal. 

What was it called again? Oh right, the ‘Deltarune’. What a mysterious name…

Some old framed posters, mostly for musicians and shows that were obviously from the Underground, mixed with a few photos- Papyrus, someone who must have been his oft-mentioned brother Sans, Undyne, Undyne's wife, and others. In one corner of the room, a pot of blue, softly glowing flowers made you gasp in delight, so beautiful were they; a strange apparatus was suspended over them, making the air darker in a cone like a grow light reversed. 

Such an eclectic mix. Like so many Monsters you'd met, it spoke of a man who was trying to catch up to the huge new world he'd been thrust into, while retaining anything he could of his life before.

You knew it was probably way too early in the relationship to think something like this, but (as far as you knew) there were no mind readers around so screw it…your family would love your silly man. He was such a good fit, at least as far as his hobbies. 

Heading back out toward the living room, you thought back to the research you'd done on Monsters the last few nights. Monsters, and specifically, relationships between them. Originally you'd only frantically searched to see if it was some giant faux pas for a woman to ask a man out in their culture. But recently you'd just been curious about them as a whole; how they viewed things like love and friendships, how their society worked, and how their culture grew and changed over time.

It was all so fascinating…and honestly, rather beautiful. Souls. Magic. Emphasis on community and the greater good after so many centuries of imprisonment in a limited space. A culture that valued, in practice, kindness and empathy. 

And then, more personally…the slow, gradual adaptations that they underwent when they loved someone, the countless disparate varieties of Monster shifting and changing the tiniest bit so even the most unusually shaped or sized people would become better suited to each other. That they believed sleeping together, (actually sleeping, not necessarily just sex) made a couple stronger and healthier- many cultural ‘love phrases’ and Monster poems actually used sleep and beds as allusions to romance more than to horny things. That they were quicker to become exclusive than humans due to being able to literally feel each other's emotions, and valued authenticity and honesty in their relationships.

The way their magic would extend to that other person in subtle ways, whether they be human or Monster- a human woman had made the news for surviving a freak riptide on a beach visit due to the water-breath of her Elemental boyfriend. Elsewhere, a man had lifted, fully lifted, an SUV off his daughter thanks to the reflected strength of his Minotaur husband. One particular Monster site had emphasized the romance of a couple’s innate magics slowly starting to take each other’s color…which made you wonder if you'd been too presumptive in wearing his color on your nails since that first date. Still, he seemed to like it, running his thumb over the polish constantly whenever he held your hand.

He looked back at you the moment you came around the corner of the hall, smiling widely. “I’D LIKE A HUG…AND ALSO A CHEESE CURL, COULD YOU GRAB THEM OFF THE COUNTER?”

You grinned. “Right away, oh captain my captain.” Large bag of snacks in hand, you tossed them on the couch to his side and then snuggled into his other, your thighs honestly a bit shaky after the night’s activities. He smelled so nice, like clean laundry and a hint of something masculine; bodywash, perhaps. And it felt so damn good to curl into him after such a surprising time earlier…who knew the sweet thing had it in him? The tongue had been surprising enough, but the cock?? Good lord. 

He pulled you in, slouching so you could rest on his chest; like you'd felt the first time you'd started the movie, your head was lifted a centimeter or two as he twitched his hand, and the faintest orange glow came up through the long sleeved shirt he'd changed into while you'd showered. It took you a moment before you realized what he'd done- he was padding you from his bones, making himself more human using magic.

Your heart flipped in your chest.

“Don't put the magic on,” you murmured as Ponyo restarted. “I just want to feel you. Please. I mean, I know it's your magic and all but…”

His breath caught for a moment, and the feeling vanished slowly. And while yes, he was certainly harder to the touch than skin and muscle, he wasn't the rock-hard discomfort of actual human bone either. Somewhere in-between, unique and lovely and delicate, bending like a willow tree. 

Earlier pleasure had left you vulnerable and romantic, wanting to flatter him and be close. He seemed like a man who needed compliments, someone who overextended himself for everyone around him…and you loved how he reacted. “If I could draw, I'd have you pose up against the sun and sketch the shadow. You have more ribs than a human, so much more delicate…you're so handsome, sweetheart.”

He pulled a blanket down off the back of the couch and threw it over you; you hadn't even noticed your own goosebumps, chilly after the shower and your earlier escapades. “...I DON'T KNOW HOW I GOT SO LUCKY, I MUST HAVE FINALLY EATEN THE RIGHT FORTUNE COOKIE OR SOMETHING. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY HUMANS ARE LITERALLY GROSSED OUT BY ME?”

You shook your head, nuzzling closer into him. “Everywhere we walk is a grave. Everywhere we look, people have lived and died. You're not scary or weird. Just…another reflection of the same pattern as me.”

He was quiet for a while, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your crown. “YOU REMIND ME OF MY BROTHER, MY OLDEST. WHAT YOU JUST SAID…HE WAS SO SMART, LIKE YOU.”

Frowning, you looked up at him. “Was? I thought you lived with Sans…”

Papyrus sighed. “I DO. GASTER WAS OLDER THAN BOTH OF US.”

“Ah…I'm sorry, fuck.” His face was sad. You couldn't imagine the day you lost your sister, yet he seemed fairly young and had already lost his brother. “What was he like? Do you mind me asking?”

His answer was immediate. “SMART. SAD. EVENTUALLY, THE SAD WON OUT. AND THEN HE WAS GONE.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

He glanced down at you and shrugged a little. “IT WAS A LONG TIME AGO. I WAS A KID. AND I DIDN'T EVEN REMEMBER LOSING HIM UNTIL THE BARRIER BROKE.”

That…didn't make much sense. “I'm sorry, I'm not…sure I understand?”

In the background, Ponyo's jar washed up on the beach.

“EVEN UNDERSTANDING MAGIC, IT'S HARD TO EXPLAIN. HUMAN MAGIC…IT WORKS OFF THE INTENTION OF THE CASTER. THE MAGES INTENDED US TO BE TRAPPED, THE JERKS. AND GASTER…HE WAS A SPECIAL KIND OF MONSTER. A KIND THAT CAN LIVE ALMOST FOREVER.” He let his head fall back against the couch. “SO I THINK THE BARRIER KINDA KNEW THAT, BECAUSE THE MAGES THAT CAST IT WOULD KNOW THAT. AND SO WHEN GASTER DIED IN SPITE OF IT…THE BARRIER COULDN'T ACCEPT IT. A GLITCH. SO INSTEAD, EVERYONE FORGOT HIM. THE BARRIER ERASED HIM RATHER THAN CHANGE TO ACCEPT THAT HE WAS GONE.”

It was simultaneously hard to understand, and also made complete sense. “I wish I knew more about magic. Just that explanation…horrifying, and yet interesting too. I want to understand more, so I can understand you better.” Leaning up, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I'm so sorry you lost him. I'm so sorry he couldn't see another way forward.

“ME TOO. AND I'LL TEACH YOU.”

It was a sobering conversation, but he lightened quickly, giggling over the movie as it played on. Oh he was so fun, so quick to hug you and point out his favorite parts; little tricks of animation and shading you would never have even noticed. At one point, he rewound it a second to point out the watercolors in the background of the scene, how the painting would have been redone again and again, perfectly each time. 

“You're such a good artist, how do you even know half of this stuff?” He blushed orange as you asked, waving off the compliment. “NONSENSE. AND I'M TAKING COURSES AT COLLEGE.” 

Smiling, you leaned up to press a kiss to his neck. “I still want my portrait someday.” 

Oh the look he gave you then, warm with his eyes half-closed. “NOW ISN'T THAT WHAT STARTED EVERYTHING EARLIER?” Giggling, you rubbed your nose into his jaw. “And do you see me complaining?” 

He chuckled, tilting his head to give you more space to play in. “MIRACULOUSLY, NO.” 

You shook your head, watching as Sōsuke’s father looked on in awe at Granmamare. “You should have more faith in yourself honey. I…I'm really happy. Earlier? Hot as hell, ten out of ten. I think my legs are still shaking.”

Catching your chin in his cool hand, he turned your face up to his, kissing you softly. It was always so gentle with him, so hesitant; you hoped as he gained experience, he'd gain confidence too. Because earlier? A blush riding high on his cheeks and his cock half-hard underneath you, rubbing your own wetness over your tongue? It might have been the single hottest thing you'd ever felt in your life.

He broke away to press his ‘nose’ to your hair, breathing in deeply. “IS IT WEIRD TO HUMANS TO SAY YOU SMELL NICE?” 

Blushing, you shook your head…and took a chance. “Not at all. Is it weird to ask if I should call an Uber after this movie, or can I…?” 

With anyone else. ANYONE ELSE…you'd never stay over this early. It would feel too presumptuous, too close and assuming. 

With him? You had the feeling it would be the best sleep of your life. And after reading what you did…you didn't mind doing things the ‘Monster way’.

His huge smile, one that he promptly tried to turn away to hide, was worth it. “NOT IF YOU DON'T WANT TO.”

Time for a little honesty. “You know, it's so dumb. Humans simultaneously would say sleeping over at a new boyfriend's house is weird and clingy, but won't think twice about spending the night with a one night stand.”

He nodded. “BECAUSE CARING IS A WEAKNESS TO HUMANS. WANTING TO BE CARED FOR? EVEN WORSE. GOD FORBID YOU ASK FOR SOMETHING YOU WANT.”

Such clear eyes, your man had. 

“Then…I want to stay the night with you. I'll text my nice neighbor, Eileen, and ask her to keep Cheese for the night, we practically share custody as it is. I'm sorry if I snore or something, I never have before but…”

He grinned, then laughed, then pulled you into a squeeze with a paroxysm of happiness, giggling into your hair.

“OKAY! I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND THE SOUND OF ME WRITING THOUGH. I HAVE A LOT OF HOMEWORK DUE, AND I'M STILL NOT THE BEST AT SLEEPING…BUT I'M LEARNING!”

You blinked. “Uh…what?”

In the privacy of his own mind, Papyrus imagined this was what the rest of his life could look like. After explaining his lack of sleep in the underground, and how long it had taken to learn to do so for his own good on the surface, the two of you had retired to his bedroom after the movie. Now he sat at his desk finishing the weekend's homework, and watching from the corner of his eye as you slowly got sleepier and sleepier. Eventually your phone fell from your hand as your eyes closed, curled on your side and practically lost in his large bed. 

It was borderline addictive, being around you. Feeling your emotions, your care for him… he knew that you didn't understand how intimate it would be for him to call your soul forth, would probably let him if he asked, and good God was it a tempting thing. To feel those emotions, that affection and want unhindered. 

Bizarrely, he yawned. He usually didn't sleep more than three or four hours a night, on good nights… even though Alphys had lectured him again and again about the differences of the surface versus existence behind the barrier. That he needed sleep now in a way that he might not have before. Almost every night it was a battle between things he felt he had to get done, versus closing his eyes for a few hours and almost forcing himself into unconsciousness. 

But now with you here, snuggling into one of his pillows? All he wanted to do was crawl into bed behind you and close his eyes. 

He realized with a soft smile that this was probably Soul bonding to the purest degree, though he had never heard of it happening so quickly. Well, at least between Monsters. There were some interesting rumors about Monsters and humans together, though. And if it was that, then you did truly care for him. The connection couldn't go only one way.

Another yawn made him chuckle softly at himself, looking over the various upcoming events Toriel and Asgore had informed him of and the language prep he needed to do for them; he'd been able to accomplish so many things at once until this point by not sleeping. Perhaps he would need to take stock of everything soon, if you were going to affect him in this way. Translation spells only went so far after all, the user still had to have a basic understanding of what they were listening to. 

It was barely one in the morning, and he had just finished his lab write-up for biology, when you made a little noise in your sleep behind him. He turned; though your eyes were still closed, your breathing still deep and slow…you were almost reaching for him across the bed, your arm spread out as if looking for something to hold. From your Soul he felt the same pang of want as earlier when the two of you had restarted the movie; a yearning for closeness after such a vulnerable time.

‘Okay’ he thought fondly, sitting his pen down. ‘Okay. I'm coming.’

He got a quick drink, then plugged your phone in where it lay forgotten beside your hand. Then, shucking off his shirt, he crawled into bed behind you. You had taken the sweatpants off earlier, saying it would be too hot to sleep, and the feeling of your bare legs against his barely clothed ones was amazing. When he tucked his feet up behind yours, you subconsciously brushed your toes back and forth across the top of his foot for a moment, and Papyrus bizarrely almost cried. It was so intimate, something you could only feel spooned up behind a lover…

As if sensing his overwhelmed emotions, you sighed in your sleep, snuggling back into him so your entire back was pressed to his front. When he laid a hand over your chest, needing to feel even closer, your Soul whispered of safety. Contentment. And he realized it was something he had felt from you for months across a busy store, many times a week. A sensation so subtle that he had never consciously noticed it… and perhaps would not have let himself admit that it was coming from you, or that it was due to him. A silent conversation neither of you had been listening to. 

“SILLY,” He whispered, magic steaming off his lips and feeling a little bit in love. Just a teensy, eensy bit. “YOU COULD HAVE COME TO ME ALL THAT TIME. I HAD A CRUSH ON YOU FROM THE DAY I SAW YOU.”

Though you were asleep, your Soul was a bit more active, roused by his presence and the magic he'd spoken with instinctually. And though of course it did not answer in words...answer it did. 

Fear. Longing for somewhere to rest, to be guarded and protected. Such a long time of sadness, of questioning what it had done wrong…and then freedom. And then healing.

And then him.

He closed his eyes, basking in this wordless, heartfelt expression of your trust and affection as your Soul sleepily settled again, fluttering faintly in time with your heart. His eyes grew heavy…he yawned again. 

Papyrus fell asleep holding a woman in his arms, for the first time in his life. 

Chapter Text

Every day of the next few weeks, Papyrus wondered if it was possible to feel this much happiness and not just keel over dead from it. Busy as he was, with the end of summer madness at both his ‘human’ job AND his Monster job, as he called them, he tried to spend as much time with you as possible, texting you when he couldn't. It was lovely and sweet and good, especially because you gave him no grief for the odd hours he had to keep, and the way he only got to see you one or two times a week, and then only for a few hours. Brian had quit, which meant until he found a few new employees to hire, he had to cover each every weekday AND weekend evening since Trina had also gone back to school and Bill was away on vacation.

Still, he'd promised himself to take you on at least a date every Friday, regardless of what other madness went on in his life. A visit to the New Home botanical gardens brought wonder into your face like he'd never seen, your joy palpable as you ran from magical flower to magical flower. A date to the movies turned into a night spent cuddling and canoodling in your bed through your clothing, acting like teenagers until your dog Cheezit interrupted the whole thing by deciding he was over his fear of a new person and falling absolutely in love with Papyrus. A visit to a Temmie-owned Cafe was a riot all on its own, with you looking on in bemused giggles as Temmies swarmed Papyrus in excitement for his visit.

And even if he couldn't spend any other time with you for days on end…he slept with you at night on the weekends, as September came and royal duties picked up their pace, leaving him terribly tired and spread thin. He had a section of your closet with his work clothes in it so he could leave right from your house...and it felt good to see. Like he fit in your life, like he was a part of it. And then when he found an errant pair of your sneakers on his bathroom floor some days after you’d left, the sight bizarrely made him cover his mouth lest he tear up a little. Who would have thought all of this could happen? To HIM of all people?

You learned his favorite kind of cereal and bought it for him (chocolate cheerios for the win!). Going along shopping one night, you stopped to buy makeup and spent an hour explaining everything to him as he watched in rapt fascination, interested that humans emphasized their own bone structure with cosmetics; another bridge between him and you. He went with you on errands and fun alike when he had a spare hour free, and both were good as long as you were there too.

His brother met you and loved you… for he met you while you were covering a bowl of mac n cheese with ketchup, holding it out of Papyrus's reach as he playfully tried to swipe it back from you in his kitchen.

“It's good! Just try it!”

“NASTY!!! NEVER!!!”

The door had clicked closed, and both of you had glanced over to find Sans there, staring at you like the lost sister he never had. The night turned into a video game party, with you and Sans playing some MMO as a witch and a warrior respectively as Papyrus watched.

(“Is it less or more racist if we trade laptops?”)

(“i ‘unno, get out there and kill shit like you're supposed to, humee.”)

All in all…it was wonderful.

But he missed your touch, terribly. Wanting. 

Wanting more of you, wanting more than exhausted goodnight kisses and the occasional heady make out. He couldn't forget that tipsy night…and by the desire he often saw in your face, you couldn't either. Sadly for him, you were being a terribly good person, and not pushing or rushing him at all…

Perhaps he wanted rushed a little. 

-

The last day of September dawned unseasonably hot and sticky, starting an entire month of time that Papyrus blessedly had off; he'd finally hired two more employees, and had begun his yearly leave from work at the shop to focus on royal duties as fall approached. This was always the busiest time of year for all castle employees, with dignitaries around the world trickling into Ebott to meet or reunite with these strange new additions to the global stage. 

You and Roger had a concert that night to go to, so he took the opportunity to invite Toriel and Asgore over for dinner. The conversation he needed to have with their majesties was bound to be an entertaining one, for he knew they'd both gently poke fun at him for it…but how was it his fault that his lovely new lady pulled him into sleep the rare times you got to spend the night with each other? Worse, it had started happening even on the many lonely nights he DIDN'T spend with you! 

It was sucking up all his valuable time that he'd used for YEARS to do the reading, writing, and learning required to be an ambassador for his people. Mostly he just needed things from their majesties sooner, giving him more time to get all the work done before the event…but he knew how hard that could be on a royal schedule. 

He'd hemmed and hawed all day over how best to explain his predicament…and yet when he was finally in front of them both, that Friday evening, all his well-planned ideas flew out the window.

-

Asgore and Toriel were troubled as he got the lasagna out of the oven. Apparently, though anti-Monster beliefs were quickly fading around the world, there was a firebug in Ebott and the surrounding cities. An arsonist, targeting exclusively Monster-owned homes and businesses. He'd seen the various fires on the news of course, but this was the first time he'd learned of how many more there were than what was being reported, and how stumped human and Monster investigators both were.

Toriel sighed. “We do our best to stifle the press. Arsonists often do it for the acclaim, they want to read about themselves in the paper, hear about their destruction on the news. But…it is not good. A townhouse was destroyed and the two neighboring severely damaged. A clothing store in Coastal city burned to the ground. And almost a dozen others, all since the start of the summer. All Monster owned. No deaths yet, thank the stars.”

Buttering a roll, Asgore rumbled in his chest, the barest start of a growl. “Whoever it is, they have the humans furious. They're using a chemical accelerant, that much the police can tell, and are igniting it remotely, the smart little bugger. Investigators have found the remains of small electronics at each location near the accelerant, but they can't catch the damn fool. They're expert at avoiding cameras."

Papyrus shook his head. “UNDYNE HASN'T EVEN SAID ANYTHING! ISN'T SHE INVOLVED?”

“Of course not. You know she has no patience for investigation, and a new generation of guards begins training in winter. She has her hands full as it is...” The queen's face was full of vexation at the whole situation.

"I'D LIKE TO BE INCLUDED, IF POSSIBLE. YOU KNOW I NOTICE THINGS OTHERS DON'T."

The king frowned. "I know you do. Better than anyone. But aren't you busy enough?"

Scoffing, he twisted a corkscrew into one of the bottles the royals had brought along. "SOONER OR LATER, THEY'RE GONNA BURN SOMEONE ALIVE. OR MANY SOMEONES. I'LL SURVIVE SOME READING."

Toriel examined her claws, frustrated. "We will send the dossier by courier. If you are willing, I will not dissuade you further."

They all fell quiet then as he carried glasses over to the table. When he brought the lasagna, Toriel's forced smile was still as graceful as ever. “Enough of that talk, for now at least. Why have you invited us over, my dear? Not that I will ever complain of a dinner invitation from you. But I feel that you have a reason beyond company.”

In the middle of serving, Papyrus froze, his jaw working. 

“AH, WELL…I, YOU SEE-” He tittered, nervous giggles bubbling up. “YOU SEE, I FIND MYSELF…SLEEPING? A BIT MORE? WHICH IS TO SAY THAT I MIGHT NEED A LITTLE BIT MORE PREP TIME FOR EVENTS THAN I PERHAPS DID UNTIL RECENTLY?”

Asgore frowned over a mouthful of salad. “Sleeping more? Are you quite alright? Is there a reas-”

His front door burst open. 

Roger and you tumbled in, trailing glitter and panting, both of you done up for the human concert you'd been gushing to him about for weeks. Your faces were flushed and sweaty with heat; your hair was plastered down to your skin around the edges of your face, your cheeks and shoulders sunburnt.

“Papyyyyyyyruuuus, hi baby! Phew, dear god it was hot, but we had so much fun, I got…you…a-a….”

The look of horror that came over both your faces would have been comedic if it wasn't so very real. The plastic bag in Roger's hand fell to the hardwood floor with a dull noise, something glass audibly breaking inside. 

Your gaze flicked from Papyrus, to Asgore, to Toriel, your eyes getting so wide for a moment that he could see the white the whole way around your iris. 

Before he could say anything, you raised your hands. “I am so, so sorry. Your majesties, please don't let this reflect over on Papyrus. I sincerely apologize for the interruption.” You bobbed a nervous little curtsy, unpracticed but sincere. Roger was frozen like a deer in headlights. “We'll take ourselves elsewhere, Papyrus I'm sorry. Please, enjoy your dinner, he's a wonderful chef-”

Toriel's voice was as gentle as a meadow as she called your name. “Oh my beautiful girl, we have heard so much about you. There is no need to apologize for a happy greeting! But goodness, I heard something break- Asgore?”

The big man nodded, giving you both a friendly wave. “We can't have that, can we? If you've got a present for my favorite kingsguard, the least I can do is fix whatever happened to it! May I?”

Horrible, gnawing, burning anxiety that you had somehow harmed Papyrus's reputation or damaged his job- burning in your chest like a heart attack. Instinctive fear of the two great beings, and of how you could have hurt their opinion of you as well. Pride for him, for having the royalty of his people over to his own home. He could feel the conflicting, cascading emotions shoot through your Soul like arcs of lightning. 

You swayed on your feet. 

“Y-your majesty no, it's…it's nothing, please don't worry about that. Just a silly little souvenir, I'm sorry, I should have told him we were leaving early. I…please don't let us interrupt anything important. I am so sorry Papyrus. Have a good night, I-”

Asgore stood easily to his full nine feet, ready to come greet you, and you blanched as you stared up at the huge man. It was something Papyrus had never seen before, something he thought was only a human literary device or saying, but no. In a bare moment, every drop of color left your face, your skin so pale it looked almost translucent. 

Too late, he jumped into damage control, not having been ready to do so and his mind on other things before your surprise arrival. “IT'S OKAY! THEY'RE VERY KIND, THEY AREN'T LIKE HUMAN ROYALS. PLEASE COME MEE-”

Toriel's voice was urgent as she cut him off. “She is going to faint-”

Roger barely caught you with a shout of alarm, not looking much better himself as Papyrus darted over. 

-

Toriel's red-glowing hand pulled away from your forehead where Papyrus had laid you gently on his bed, replacing it with the gel ice pack she'd found in the freezer. “She will be fine. Humans only faint for a minute or so at most. It was the heat, and dehydration, combined with surprise- heat stroke, they call it. Has she ever described such a thing happening before? No history of seizure?”

He shook his head, chewing his lip in worry. “NOT THAT SHE'S MENTIONED…”

She patted his shoulder. “Then don't fret. Get her to drink some juice-” she pointed at the cup on his desk that Roger had brought in moments ago before retreating to the bathroom “-and give her a few minutes to reorient herself. I…am not sure if we should leave. It takes away the opportunity to assure her we are not mad…and Asgore wants so terribly to meet her.”

Scooting his desk chair over to his bed, Papyrus shook his head. “STAY, AND I'LL ASK HER WHEN SHE WAKES UP.” Already you were moving slightly, a frown furrowing your brow under the ice pack. 

Toriel nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind her. 

Moments later, you opened your eyes, your gaze unfocused. “...what…?”

He leaned down and rested his forehead on your shoulder. “YOU'RE OKAY. THE QUEEN SAYS YOU HAD SOMETHING CALLED ‘HEAT STROKE’. SHE FIXED IT WITH HER MAGIC.”

Your jaw worked as you got your bearings for a bit…and then you nodded, pressing your cheek to his head. “Oh…Roger's AC was out…we had the windows down, but it was…still really bad in the car. And…so hot, all day.”

For a few minutes, you simply rested against him, enjoying each other's touch as you recovered; you hadn't been able to see each other since the Friday before. 

Finally, he helped you as you struggled a moment to sit up, tossing the ice pack away. “DRINK THIS, SHE SAYS YOU NEED THE SUGAR IN IT. SEE, I TOLD YOU BEFORE, YOU HUMANS ARE TERRIBLY DELICATE CREATURES!”

Your sour look as you took the glass of juice made him grin; it assured him that you were okay. “Shut up , sweetheart.” He nodded as you drank. “YES MA'AM.”

Once you'd finished off the glass, you handed it to him, only to grab a pillow and bury your face in it, hugging it to your chest. “I do feel much better, but…fucking hell I'm so embarrassed. First coming in like that, then all of this…they aren't mad at you, are they?”

It wouldn't be appropriate to kiss you now, so he stifled the urge…even though he wanted to. Of course you'd worry about him first, wonderful, sweet woman that you were.

“NOT AT ALL. THEY'RE…BUNNY, THEY'RE LIKE TWO THOUSAND YEARS OLD. NOTHING PHASES THEM. NOTHING IS A SURPRISE. THEY WERE JUST EXCITED TO MEET YOU, I MAY HAVE *HEH* TALKED ABOUT YOU THE PAST TWO MONTHS? LIKE A LOT?”

That made you smile. “All terrible, awful things I'm sure.”

“MMHMM. SO BAD, IN FACT, THAT THE KING IS OUT THERE ABSOLUTELY FALLING OVER HIMSELF TO APOLOGIZE FOR SCARING YOU. I…SHOULD HAVE REMEMBERED. HUMANS HAVE STRONG INSTINCTS, AND HE IS REALLY, REALLY BIG.”

Shame-faced, you glanced away. “...I feel terrible about that. He's just a person, but god, at that moment…I've never seen someone that big, and…and the red eyes…I'm so sorry. Please don't think less of me.”

“I DON'T, SILLY. I'VE BEEN WORKING BETWEEN MONSTERS AND HUMANS FOR EIGHT YEARS, IT'S MY FAULT FOR NOT HELPING MORE.” He scooted closer as you pulled your hair out of its braid and shook it loose. “NO ONE IS UPSET WITH YOU! I PROMISE. THEY WERE HAPPY TO SEE YOU, AND ASGORE DOESN'T THINK ABOUT THINGS LIKE HE SHOULD. HE CAN BE SCARY, IT MAKES SENSE. NO ONE IS OFFENDED.”

You still looked terribly upset, embarrassed and mad at yourself at once, staring at the blanket beneath you. He reached over quickly to grab a lock of your hair before it fell in your eyes, meaning to tickle your nose with it or something, something to make you smile…and you did something so heartbreaking, so telling, that it hollowed him out as neatly as a blade.

You flinched.  

And then you froze, seeing that he saw it…and looked away, your cheeks flushing with shame.

This was something he'd expected for a while, preparing himself for if the moment ever came. He'd never forgotten that conversation at the street fair, how Roger’s voice had dropped low with anger for you.

Carefully and purposefully, he continued his motion, pushing your hair out of your eyes as you hid your expression. Then he tucked you under his chin, pulling you half off the bed and supporting you instead in his arms. 

“LISTEN TO ME, BUNNY. FOR REALSIES.”

You made a little noise in your throat to show you were, your arms coming to wrap around him.

“I WILL NEVER. EVER. EVER. HIT YOU. I'LL NEVER YELL AT YOU, UNLESS WE'RE HAVING FUN. I’LL NEVER TRY TO HURT YOU BECAUSE I'M MAD. NEVER. I NEVER WILL.”

You didn't say anything, but your hands got tighter around him.

“I'LL NEVER TELL YOU WHAT YOU CAN AND CAN'T DO. I'LL NEVER BE MAD THAT YOU HANG OUT WITH YOUR FRIENDS OR DO SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU HAPPY.”

He sighed, hating that he even had to say any of that. Hating what had been done to you to warrant it.

(‘Don't linger on it’ the counselor had told him, when he consulted her last month. ‘If something comes up, don't dwell on it. She'll talk about it if she wants to. Otherwise, reassure and move on. Show her you aren't upset or icked-out.’)

“NOW. TORIEL AND ASGORE ARE VERY NICE, FOR REAL! THE KING IS A BIG SOFTIE, AND THE QUEEN IS LIKE, THE SWEETEST LADY EVER. AND I'VE TOLD THEM TONS ABOUT YOU, AND THEY ARE STILL HERE AND WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE FOR SCARING YOU. IS THAT OKAY?”

Grimacing, you used his shoulder to sit up, swinging your legs off the bed. “Okay… I've never had that happen before, never fainted…I…the King is just…”

He nodded. “SCARY AT FIRST RIGHT? LOTS OF PEOPLE ARE BOTHERED BY IT, THAT'S KINDA WHERE I COME IN.” Leaning in, he kissed you very softly. “COME MEET THESE PEOPLE THAT MEAN SO MUCH TO ME. THEY ALREADY LOVE YOU.”

With a bit more coaxing, he got you to your feet, walking you out to the living room. As the two of you got closer, Toriel's whisper carried. “-for heaven's sake stay sitting you silly man, you nearly scared her out of her skin! They are afraid of beasts, and we seem like them at first! How many times must you be told this?”

And Asgore's forlorn reply- “I just wanted to say hi to them!”

Under his arm, you chuckled softly, rallying visibly as Toriel chewed her husband out. “Aw…I didn't mean to upset him.”

The Queen had moved to the couch, gracefully reading one of Sans’ many joke books. The King was hunched at the kitchen table, a little glass ornament neatly repaired on the table in front of him, visibly trying to make himself as small as possible. He perked the moment he saw you, starting to stand only to wither under his wife’s IMMEDIATE glare. He chuckled wryly instead, scratching between his horns. “Well then, you're looking better! You aren't the first to get spooked…I'm a bit, ah, large for most humans to be comfortable with right away. Sorry about that!” He reached a huge paw out to you. “So, howdy! Please just call me Asgore!”

Papyrus nudged you forward a little. “GO! GO SAY HI!”

Hesitantly, you walked up to the massive man, your hand disappearing in his as he shook it. Side by side, seated, he was still taller than you  “Hi, um, A-Asgore, your majesty. I'm really sorry, I…”

He gently pulled you to sit in the seat beside him. “Don't be at all! I believe your friend is bein’ a bit hysterical in the bathroom, Papyrus, would you go check on him?”

As Papyrus trotted down the hall, you looked warily between the table, the floor and the king, feeling weak and woozily in your belly. Asgore glanced at you once, and then over at his wife.

As subtly and gracefully as if he'd called her with telepathy, Toriel sat her book down, came over, and…. served you a plate of lasagna. Immediately you started shaking your head, holding your hands up as your mind raced- what was she doing?! This was madness, being served dinner by the QUEEN of ALL MONSTERS! “No, no! I should be doing that for you, I can't-”

Her look was the gentlest of chastisements. “Would you have us working every hour of our lives, my dear? Ceremony is very tiring when one must stand upon it eternally.”

Eyes wide, you fell silent in the face of that thought. Toriel nodded. “Just so. If we happened to be sitting the throne during a formal event, or you were presenting a petition to us as the royal family of Monsters? Then yes, royal titles and all formality would be appreciated greatly. But with friends and family? We like to take what breaks we can. Imagine being born to a job you cannot leave or change.”

What a…morbid way to describe it. Two thousand years, Papyrus had said. 

They were older than Pompeii. 

Older than the Great Wall. 

She leaned down and hugged you gently, her voice a whisper. “We have loved Papyrus since the day we met him. Thank you for seeing in him the wonderful things that we do.”

Blushing, you hugged her back; she smelled lovely. Like lillies and roses, faint and sweet. “He's…amazing. I feel so lucky.”

Pulling back, she used the soft pad of one paw to wipe away a smudge of makeup under your eye. “How funny. He said the exact same thing about you.”

After a bathroom-argument about propriety and nerves in front of royals, Papyrus towed the terribly pale and shaken Roger out to the table and sat him down. To his credit, he checked you over first of all. Then when Toriel firmly handed him a plate of lasagna, he began eating automatically, his eyes wide as they flicked between the beautiful queen and her terribly eager spouse. Asgore was practically bouncing in place, pinned by his wife’s glare as she calmed the two humans. 

Some minutes passed. As you and Roger ate and slowly relaxed, Asgore dug in, and Toriel delicately took bites of salad . They chatted with Papyrus about his work and Monsters they all knew, and in less than fifteen minutes, the two of you were laughing and telling stories of your own to the royals. When Asgore handed Roger another slice of bread, the man didn't even flinch, but instead took it with a smile. 

Toriel spoke up over her wine. “We shall continue our earlier discussion some other time Papyrus, perhaps a phone call? I was concerned it was something bad, but…?”

He scratched the back of his skull. “IT ISN'T. JUST A CHANGE OF HOW I HAVE TO DO THINGS. BUT IT IS NICE TO SEE YOU BOTH, WITHOUT BEING SURROUNDED BY STUFFY IMPORTANT PEOPLE.”

Asgore chuckled. “Yes, what was that Norwegian gentleman’s name again? The one on Tuesday…Sigurdsson? I think he nearly had an apoplexy when he saw you! Turned out to be quite the gentleman but god above, the hysterics at first!” Papyrus laughed along with him. "ERIK JUST HAD TO GET PAST THE CRUNCHY SKELETON OUTSIDE TO MY AMAZING, FRIENDLY INSIDE!"

Roger choked on his bite of bread, coughing as Toriel clapped him on the back. His throat was still scratchy as he stared at Papyrus, his eyes bulging. “Erik? ‘Norwegian Erik’ ? You mean Erik Sigurdsson, the DUKE of NORWAY? He's visiting this week, it was all over the news, I...you MET him?!” He looked from Papyrus, to Asgore, to Toriel, and back again…as if connecting disparate puzzle pieces he'd seen all separately, but had never put fully together to see the whole picture. That Papyrus the youtuber, Papyrus the Gundam nerd, Papyrus the guy he knew through Jax's friend Undyne...was the same Papyrus who had shaken hands with and spoken to a human royal. Who knew that royal well enough now to refer to him by his first name in casual conversation.

Papyrus himself, standing up from where he'd been leaning on the kitchen island, glanced at you curiously…for your reaction couldn't have been more different from your friend's. Roger was halfway to histrionics, being someone who followed royal news and such. But your eye roved across the tall, vaulted ceiling of the connected kitchen and living room, over to the admittedly beautiful appliances that he had gotten the moment he had the chance all those years ago, to the fork in your hand; a silver set gifted from their Majesties for his first birthday outside of the Mountain.

Then you looked at him, your gaze sweeping slowly from his socks to his face…and there was so much want and heat in your eye that he nearly tripped over his own feet as he crossed the kitchen.

Some tiny smirk came onto your lips as you subtly glanced down at your lap, doing something on your phone as Asgore proudly showed Roger that he'd repaired the glass ornament that had broken and regaled him with tales of Papyrus meeting visiting nobility. 

He stepped away into the hall as his phone buzzed in his pocket.

8:55, ...why the *heck* do you work in a bookstore? you can't possibly need the money from it.

He caught his reflection in the decorative mirror on the wall and looked away; he was grinning like a loon, and blushing like one too. It was obvious what you were getting at.

8:56, Well…I think because it was the first thing that was mine outside of the Mountain, and I'm not ready to give it up, if that makes any sense at all? And I really like Bill, the owner. He's done a lot for me!

8:56, oh :) yeah that does make sense

8:57, I knew you were like, officially an ambassador and all but…it's one thing to know, and one thing to hear you refer to another country's royalty by first name like holy SHIT?! how did I get so lucky, hmm?🧡

Papyrus covered his mouth with his hand, giggling softly. It wasn't that he ‘hid’ this part of his life from you, not at all…but he felt oddly…self conscious about it? A bit of imposter syndrome, making him direct conversation away from himself and over to you whenever possible. Yet it felt so good in this moment, to have you see him for what he was and be impressed by him.

As Toriel plied Roger with a glass of wine, he heard you excuse yourself for a moment, trotting around the corner of the hall. He smiled at you…and then his arms were full of a very enamored, very cuddly woman. Chuckling, he pulled you into a hug as you went up on your tippytoes to nuzzle into his neck. 

“Pappy, Pappy, Pappy…” Peppering his cheek and jaw with kisses, you slid your hands down his chest, lingering over each rib under his t-shirt. He sucked in a breath, trying (not very hard) to grab your hands and direct them away from more sensitive areas. “You know you're a very interesting man, right?”

Well, seemingly the Queen's healing magic was working very well; there was no sign of you feeling so poorly earlier. “W-WHAT’S ALL THIS FOR?” God it had been too long since he last got to see you; just these little touches and he was achingly hard. 

Leaning back, you smiled up into his eyes, and oh you were irresistible. He had to lean down, had to kiss you; your mischievous little tongue touched his lip as you deepened the kiss, and a quiet rumble rose in his chest at the touch. It had been too long, too damn long.

Ignoring that he'd just asked you a question, Papyrus leaned down so he could whisper in your ear. “CAN YOU STAY THE WEEKEND?” As he said it, he sucked up all his courage and boldly dropped his grip to cup your ass through your skirt. “I'VE MISSED YOU. I'VE MISSED THIS. SANS IS AWAY WITH ALPHYS AT A CONFERENCE.”

The implication was unmistakable. You nodded, giving him a mischievous smile. “I'll see if Uncle Roger and Jax will take Cheese-custody the next few days…I'm sure they will.” Dragging your lips across his jaw, you bit him there just once, just a tiny little nip. “I've missed you too…I didn't want to make you feel rushed, or anything, but I- oh.”

He'd taken your palm and pressed it to the front of his basketball shorts, where he was so hard it hurt. “STOP WORRYING ABOUT THAT. JUST…JUST DO IT. WHATEVER YOU WANT. I TRUST YOU, AND…” 

There was no graceful-feeling way to say, ‘I've found more of my sexuality in the past month than I have for years, and I want to explore it with you’ ...so he hoped the state of his body would suffice. 

And seemingly you understood him perfectly. Your gaze got hot; biting your lip, you stroked up his length, cupping him through the thin fabric. “I've barely been able to keep my hands off you. I wanted to wake you up like this, so many nights...but you were so tired.”

He yanked you close, trapping your hand between your bodies as he kissed you hard, drawing a tiny noise from your throat as he did. Huffing out a breath as you started very slowly jerking him off through the fabric, he pulled back while a burst of laughter over some topic or another came from the kitchen. “DO IT, NEXT TIME. THAT'S HOT AS HECK, I…I REALLY LIKE THAT. A LOT. LIKE THIS IS ME ASKING YOU TO YES PLEASE DO THAT, WHENEVER YOU WANT TO.”

Cooing with heated sympathy for how uncomfortably hard he was, you sucked his lower lip gently into your mouth for a moment, then released him as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head. The cloth of his shorts barely dulled the sensation. “You're such a good man. I…what you said earlier…” Smiling, you let the thought go, focusing on his cock instead. He sighed, burying his face in your hair, his hips starting to rock with your hand. Your touch felt so good- he loved that you knew what you were doing.

“Let's finish dinner and get these lovely people out of your house, baby. And then I want to feel this -” you squeezed him gently “-without all the fabric in the way.”

Oh god. That made him laugh out a near-silent moan, a little embarrassed at his own eagerness and almost painfully turned on at the same time. There was no alcohol to steady him this time…and his nerves made it all the sweeter.

“OKAY…YES. PLEASE YES.”

Chapter Text

It took another hour and a half to shoo his visitors out of his house. Papyrus thought he was going to die of horny. 

Roger was easy; you texted him something (after peeling yourself off Papyrus and waltzing away, full of mischief and leaving him with a rock-hard glowing erection not even 30 feet from his king and queen), and he excused himself fifteen minutes later, saying he needed to get home to Jax while he shot you a dirty smirk and a nod about Cheezit. 

But Asgore had gotten into a second bottle of wine, and Toriel had found an Uno deck sitting on the TV stand, and thus was Papyrus sucked into sitting at the kitchen table with a handful of cards…and your evilly sneaky toes creeping up past his knee. 

And look. 

Look.

He wasn't a ‘foot guy’ specifically, or anything like that…at least, he didn't think he was. He didn't particularly like them more than any other part of you.

But for god's blessed and holy fucking sake. He dared any man to not react when their girlfriend was innocently giggling at a story Toriel was telling about Asgore in his younger years…while she secretly slid her foot up the wide leg of his shorts, the contrast of her soft skin against his bone already tantalizing enough on its own. He didn't usually bother with underwear at home, but maybe he needed to if you were this daring. As things stood, there was nothing between your touch and his absolutely raging, bobbing, straining boner (pun NOT intended, thank you very much SANS) save for an inch of space that he both dreaded and yearned for you to cross. Not to mention that Skeleton dicks GLOWED with the magic that formed them, good lord kill him now. The underside of the table probably looked like a furnace at this point, thank the stars that the chandelier overhead was bright enough to drown out the faint orange tint under the dark tablecloth. 

His only saving grace was that you were a merciful little demon. Explaining how tired he was from all his work, you got up every time someone needed something, letting him hide his magic and his embarrassment alike beneath the table. But then you'd sit back down, handing over whatever drink or snack or napkin you'd gotten to whomever asked for it…and promptly start running your foot along his thigh again as you picked your cards back up innocently…so perhaps not merciful at all. Just buying yourself more opportunities for naughtiness.

“I'm afraid it's my fault,” you confessed, giving the royals a sweet, almost guilty smile over your cards as you bounced the strained fabric of his shorts with your toes, dragging it back and forth across his sensitive cockhead and making him nearly choke on his wine. He glared at you over the glass. “My sleepy, human self is a bad influence on him; apparently I'm making him more tired at night just by being exposed to me, like a germ! He's used to an extra five or six hours in the day that he doesn't have anymore.”

Asgore chuckled, reaching over to buffet Papyrus gently on the shoulder. “Ah, I understand! I never particularly minded hot-weather until her-” he waved a hand toward Toriel, who rolled her eyes good-naturedly “-and now I go sprinting for the AC every chance I get! You'll change each other over time…though how, who can say?”

His wife smiled softly, gazing at you. “You really do care for each other very much, to be affecting him so early on in this way. Now I understand why you wanted to talk to us, Papyrus. It would be harder to work two full time jobs when one has half a day less.”

You stopped your under-table explorations for a moment, letting him take a deep, steadying breath and answer. “I-I WASN'T SURE HOW TO PHRASE IT…BUT YEAH. IT'S A VERY STRANGE EXPERIENCE, ALL THIS SLEEPING! PLEASE TRY TO GIVE ME A LITTLE MORE TIME TO GET THINGS DONE, IF YOU CAN?”

Toriel nodded. “I never even knew you did not sleep before…how odd.” Some gentle teasing came into her voice. “You Skeletons are unusual in so many ways.” Then she skipped her husband's turn for the third time, making Asgore swear under his breath. 

The moment the king began telling the story of how he and Toriel met, interspersed with complaining about how hot the summer had been so far, you started dabbing your toes up his leg again, further and further and oh so very slowly, one tiny brush of sensation at a time. They were butterfly touches, making him suppress a shiver. He shot you a look over his cards…but he also leaned back in his chair, scooting it in slightly further to give you more room to play and earning a hotly-approving smile in return. 

What could he say? More than anything in the entire world, Papyrus loved a good game. And this was one hell of a dangerous one. 

You wiggled the ball of your foot further up the leg of his shorts to rest on his femur for a moment, so far up that your toes brushed the wing of his pelvis. Taking a deep breath, Papyrus almost had himself under control, stuffing the magic back down into his Soul where it couldn't percolate out along his bones and down his spine. And he almost had Uno too! Only two cards left. The satisfaction would be immense if he could win through all of this.

Then he made the mistake of checking his phone as it buzzed, resting his chin in his hand and sitting down his cards to pick it up with the other.

10:04, you know, creamsicle has always been one of my favorite flavors of ice pop 😇

10:04, but they just melt so fast in this heat!

10:04, how fast will you melt in my mouth tonight, baby? 😘

He darkened the screen, tossing the phone onto the table next to him as his toes curled in his socks, rolling his eyes at you as he huffed out a breath through his fingers, unable to keep a tiny smirk of excitement off his face. 

And then, horrible, nasty, evil, brat that you were, you gave him the most heinously rotten, shit-eating grin he'd ever seen…and stacked a second draw four on top of Toriel’s at the same moment that you slid your foot the rest of the way along his thigh and ran the soft tip of your big toe up the bare underside of his shaft, trapping it against his body.

His knee jumped so hard that he hit the underside of the table, and Asgore guffawed, thinking it was in frustration. “Aha! House rules my boy, eight cards for you! I bet she's been saving that since the beginning of the game, waiting.”

Your answering smile was as sweet as the summer sun as you scooted your chair in just a little further, the long table cloth hiding the movements of your leg as you began brushing up and down his length. He hid his shiver by waving off Asgore's comment with feigned grumpiness, covering his mouth again as his other hand clenched so hard on his cards that they started to crease.

“He's so good at games, your majesty! It's only ones with a luck aspect, like card games, that I think I have a chance of beating him.” You yawned cutely, covering your mouth, and rubbing little circles under the head of his cock. “I'm a little worn out for a big game tonight, if that's okay…but sometime, you should try Catan against him, if you haven't already. Or Risk. I've heard it's hopeless!”

You pulled your foot away just as Papyrus's eyes fluttered closed a moment, and Toriel nodded, smiling. “Ah goodness yes, we should probably go…I did not even think my dear, forgive me. You were so unwell earlier.”

Shaking your head, you motioned for her to lay a card, shooting him a sideways little smile; first you'd tormented him, and now you were buying him time to control himself before he had to stand up to say goodbye?

Oh, the audacity. He was going to do terrible things to you. 

“No no, at least finish the game! I'm having so much fun, do you know how rare it is to pull something over on him like that? Besides, we haven't gotten to see each other much at all the past few weeks…and it has been really, really nice to meet you both and spend time with everyone. I'm…sorry about earlier, I'm really ashamed of myself.”

Asgore put his enormous hand over yours. “Don't be. I'm a right dolt sometimes when it comes to that sort of thing, none of us can help our first reactions. It's what you do with them that matters…and you're sitting here playing a game with us! So that makes you a-okay in my book!”

Papyrus smiled despite himself, subtly reaching down to readjust himself now that  both their attentions were on you. Though you were a filthy tease, you also were clearly enjoying your time with these two people who had brought him into their family like a nephew, training him personally and teaching him royal ways. 

Asgore won in a few turns, chuckling victoriously. Then it took another ten minutes to do goodbyes, with Toriel hugging you both and insisting on checking you over with her magic one last time. As she bent to reach her palms down your back, running her hands down your spine, you winked at Papyrus over her shoulder, running your tongue along your teeth like a cat with cream.

He shook his head in answer, smirking, with tension in every line of his body. You'd decided to wear a cute little skirt to the concert, had been sitting there in it temptingly all night…and he was going to have it off you if it was the last thing he did.

Promising to stay in touch, he smiled in the friendliest way as he held the door open to both the royals, squinting against the watchwards they'd erected around the house to ensure their safety while they visited.

The moment they pulled away in their huge SUV followed by several unmarked cars on the street, he closed the door, turned, and shoved you up against it, his Soul pounding with eagerness. 

Your eyes were hot, your lips dropping open as he pressed you there with his body and kissed you like he was starving, pawing mindlessly at your breasts as he did. Whining, you arched into his touch, wrapping your fingers around his ribs through his t-shirt; god he wanted to make love to you, so badly, so fucking badly. 

He tore himself away to kiss down your neck and front, slowly dropping to his knees, tall enough that his mouth was at the same level as your nipples as you gasped in surprise at his sudden ferocity. “ARE YOU SERIOUS, WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE IF THEY'D NOTICED?!” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he bit one stiff peak through your shirt and bra; you cried out as your knees faltered for a moment, making you slide down the door a little. He reached up and around to squeeze your ass, then gently tapped one cheek, just the slightest suggestion of a spank.

“NO, STAND THERE. STAY THERE AND ANSWER ME, WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE?? HMMM?!”

Laughing with delight, you stubbornly put your chin up, caught up in whatever madness had consumed him and feeding the fire of it with your own. “Wouldn't you like to know? Maybe I liked how easy it would have been to get caught.”

Then you reached up, and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in a lacey black bra and black skirt, as if you'd been planning your whole day to end up here at his house. Wearing a treat for him to discover.

You bit your lip, gazing down at him through your eyelashes, your nipples so hard he could see them pressing against your bra. “I thought about trying to make you cum right there, too … maybe next time. Think you could hold it together baby?”

Oh you wonderful, evil little bitch. 

Papyrus stood, bit your lower lip in a bruising kiss, and then yanked you off your feet, scooping you up and throwing you over his magically-padded shoulder as you shrieked with laughter.

“YOU ARE A FILTHY BRAT” he proclaimed, carrying you into his bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him. “PLAYING WITH FIRE IN FRONT OF MY KING AND QUEEN, FOR HEAVEN’S SAKE…”

It was hard to keep talking as he tossed you down onto his bed and flicked the overhead light off, watching as your breasts bounced, mounded above your bra. And then it was hard to think at all as you scooted forward, hanging your legs off the edge to slide your skirt down and off, then reaching for him. 

He sucked in a breath as you smiled up in just your bra and panties. Matching. You'd planned every second of this, wanting him. 

He'd fantasized about being wanted in such a way, deep Underground in his bedroom. Had jerked off with his hand over his mouth, and imagined a girl prowling after him. Now here she was, red-hot and perfect. 

Thank you, Stars above. 

You licked your lips, looking him over. “You're right, it was so bad of me…why don't you let me make it up to you?”

Your clever little fingers were tickling up his knees…up his thighs…and to his waistband. Laughing softly, he helped you push his shorts down a bit.

Oh the look on your face when his cock bounced free…it was gorgeous. Hungry.  

“Mmmm, look at you…”

He was so horny he didn't even have room to feel self-conscious. Your face was inches from his pelvis, your soft hands coming up to brush along the bone…when you blinked up at him, smiling, his knees felt weak.

“What do you want, handsome?”

He reached out to cup your cheek, wanting to touch you and steady himself, and also wanting to press his thumb between your lips to feel your soft little tongue as you sucked on it. “THIS. ANYTHING. I THINK I'LL TURN TO DUST RIGHT ON THE SPOT IF YOU DON'T KEEP GOING.”

That made you giggle. God you were beautiful, your hair loose and lovely, your eyes sparkling as you looked up and down his body. 

“Hmmmmmm, you're a little tall for me like this…” Thinking for a moment, you scooted backwards. “You know what, actually, why don't you lay down here? Come lay down baby, come here-”

He was helpless but to obey, called by the siren song of your body and voice, and the promise of pleasure in your words. Crawling onto the bed over you, he leaned down and kissed you, desperate and panting, sliding his tongue along yours as your lips parted. God he was on top of you, his legs between yours, your plush thighs spread around him and your pussy right there, he could shove down your panties and be inside right now, you were very obviously inviting him to…if he wanted.

But there was a warning twinge in his cock already; he wouldn't last thirty seconds if he did. And that was a poor first performance. 

You pulled away, gasping as he kissed down your neck instead. “Papyrus, Pappy, baby…” Pulling at his shirt hem, you slid your hands under the fabric and up his ribs, gliding your fingers along the sensitive inner side of the bones. The sensation made him groan, pleasure trickling down his spine from your touch. He leaned back just enough to pull it over his head, letting it fall to the floor.

Your gaze was molten as you looked up at him, sliding your palms around his slim ribcage and spreading your fingers; was it unmanly, for him to shiver at how your hands could almost span the entire thing at its lowest point, where his waist would start? He hoped not. It wasn't that he wanted to feel ‘small’ or anything; actually, he'd rather liked your reaction earlier, all pliant and hot as he’d bossed you around a little. An idea to explore more another time. But no, he just enjoyed the idea of you surrounding him completely. Made him think about other parts of you…wrapped around him completely. 

You were tugging at him, getting him to lay down beside you. “God you're handsome. I…look at you…you look so graceful. Especially against your dark comforter, it's genuinely really lovely. Like a black and white painting or something.”

He was blushing, unable to meet your eye as you complimented him. “STOP IT, I CAN'T THINK IF YOU SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!”

Smiling, you curled up against his side, pressing kisses down his bare collarbones and ribs as you slid one hand down his spine. “But it's so true…” 

Trying not to hold his breath, it burst out of him anyway when you finally trailed your fingers down to the crest of his pelvis…over the sensitive bones…and then, almost nervously yourself, up the underside of his cock where it peeked out over his displaced waistband. As you did, you curled your tongue around his collarbone and it nearly made him shout, so sudden and molten was the sensation. He cradled the back of your head with his hand, holding you to his chest, his Soul fluttering so brightly and visibly that you stopped for a moment to stare at it.

"Such a small thing, god I...and it's right there. What if I hurt you? What if I touch it by accident, I didn't even think..."

Shaking his head gently, he turned to bury his nose in your hair, breathing in deeply. The concern in your voice touched him. "YOU WON'T HURT ME, NOT UNLESS YOU MEAN TO. THAT'S HOW SOULS WORK."

"Oh...good."

You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his sternum right over where his Soul trembled like a wild rabbit, and for some reason your tenderness touched him, enflamed him, far more deeply than anything you'd done until that moment. He was almost shaking with need, two hours of torment mixing with weeks of not being able to touch you like he wanted to, feeling desperate in a way he never had before in his life. Your body was a temptation he couldn't resist, soft and sweet and so delicious, and-

He pulled you up by the hair and kissed you hard enough that you moaned, then wrenched himself back to mutter, “STOP TEASING ME BUNNY, FUCK…”

- and THAT made you pause, your brows shooting up with delight as you bit your lip a moment. “I don't think I've ever heard you swear like that before…goodness gracious mister, you'd think-”

Grinning, he stuck his tongue in your ear as he wrapped his other hand around yours, cutting you off as you squeaked and starting to jerk himself off slowly, still half trapped in his shorts.

“WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT POPSICLES, AGAIN?”

You smiled, hot and slow, and leaned in to press the sweetest, gentlest kiss he'd ever felt to his lips, slow and lingering. It made his breath stutter, made his eyes roll back as they fluttered closed. When you pulled back, it was only enough to whisper, “I want you so bad…” close enough that he felt your lips move against his cheek with the words.

It sparked him like kindling. The two of you were a tangle of heat and affection then, his hands trembling with eagerness, shoving his shorts down and off the rest of the way as you half unhooked, half simply pulled your bra off. His cock bobbed, his sack tight and drawn up close. The orange magic of his body was so eager that it was overfull, spreading to fill in a slim pair of humanoid hips that faded out top and bottom near where the lower part of his belly and the crease of his thigh would be. 

You cocked your head in interest, leaning back as you hesitated with your hand a breath away from the magical body forming over his. “…can you…oh I don't want to be rude, I don't know if this is okay to ask…”

He turned his head into your hair, feeling terribly exposed and yet so very needy, his body a hair-trigger of sensitivity. “DO YOU MEAN IT IN A MEAN WAY?”

“Of course not.”

“THEN JUST ASK.”

You snuggled closer into his side, your breasts pressing delightfully against his ribs as he put his arm around you. “Can you, like, reform all of it? Head to toe?” 

He nodded, breathless with the feeling of your body against his. “WOULD YOU LIKE THAT MORE? IT'S MOSTLY ONLY AN ILLUSION, REALLY, BUT…”

“No. I like you just as you are.” Delicately you reached down, and slid your hand up and down his length. “I just wondered. Maybe sometime…I could see what you'd looked like, you know, ‘before’? But not now.” 

He rocked up into your grip, covering his eyes with his forearm in overwhelm as he nodded. With your unbroken attention on him, he found it terribly unbearable, and you cooed as you began jerking him off with one hand. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, you look so fucking hot right now, god… ” 

Every compliment dripped through him like sweet honey. He gave up hiding, wrapped his hand around the back of your head, and buried his nerves in a kiss, sliding his tongue against yours and imagining he was eating your pussy out like the man in that video he'd found, the one he'd gone back to again and again.

When he pulled back the tiniest bit from your lips, it made his Soul sing as you followed him for a moment, chasing him as if you couldn't stand being parted. “I…I TOLD YOU BEFORE, I HAVE NEVER DONE…THIS.” He whispered it against your lips, a confession to take the weight of inexperience off his Soul. “YOU'RE…GOD, I…” He searched for the words. “I DON'T KNOW HOW TO…TO LET MYSELF RELAX INTO THIS.”

Your face softened, and you peppered him with kisses- his cheeks, his skull, across his neck. Taking him more firmly in hand you started stroking him in earnest, root to tip, while you nibbled a collarbone and he gasped. “Well you could have fooled me at any point. Let me do this for you.” Your butterfly kiss on the edge of one eye made him blush even brighter from its sweetness. “Just feel it. Learn what you like. Tell me what to do, be as bossy as you want.”

He nodded, watching your face as you looked at him, more turned on every second by the way you chewed your lip and eyed his cock as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. “...FASTER.” 

You complied with a tiny moan, going up on your elbow to gaze at him with heavy-lidded eyes as you jerked him off. “That time, on your couch? I've never cum that fast a second time, never had someone bother to make me…it felt so good, so good.”

He groaned, grinning and turning his head to hide his face in your shoulder. It was so different, having someone else touch him. You were so fucking soft compared to him, your touch silken and dragging in a way his smooth, hard bones didn't. And the way you were laying, your breasts were pressed together, deliciously large and flushed at the nipples, bouncing in time with your hand…

Ugh if only you could reach him AND scoot up in the bed enough for him to run his tongue over those delightful little points, dusky pink and so very tempting. 

Licking your palm, you rolled it silk-soft over the head of his cock, a sensation he couldn't duplicate, and he choked. “D-DO THAT AGAIN, DO THAT-”

Smiling, you pressed a kiss to his forehead, then crawled down on the bed so you were laying between his legs. There, you shifted so you could use both hands; one stroking him, one gently polishing the head. He almost cried out when you pulled away just to rewet your palm, the magic burning hot and desperate in his soul, but you soothed him with kisses on his knee, keeping a fast, demanding rhythm that soon had him gasping, eyes squeezing shut as he chased his peak. “OH, OH I'M CLOSE, I…I-” 

Did he dare ask? Could he get such filthy words out?

“Y-YOUR TONGUE, ON MY, MY- WHILE YOUR HAND KEEPS GOING-”

Oh he couldn't say it. But you hummed your agreement, a warm giggle underneath your voice, understanding him anyway. The sensation of your tongue, wet and hot and dragging over his balls, made him choke on a loud groan; he'd never been particularly vocal in his pleasure before this, but now he couldn't seem to stop. You licked them, your tongue curling under and around until he nearly popped a finger through the comforter, so tight was he gripping it. Then you suckled them gently, sucking each into your mouth as your hand never stopped moving over his absolutely throbbing dick, and he cried out your name every time you switched sides.

It was so different with another person, so much more, unexpected and overwhelming. You couldn't tell when a sensation rose on just this side of too much, had no way to know that you were pulling him along in your current faster than he'd ever swam it himself…that he didn't know if he could dismiss his magic even if he wanted to right now, as his body took over. It felt like his world was shifting on its axis the tiniest bit, just like it had that night after the fair, and Papyrus wondered dazedly if it would be like that every time. 

Then his eyes shot open, his pelvis arching off the comforter when something incredibly hot, strangely wet, and entirely stimulating closed around the head of his dick. He shoved himself up halfway on his elbows, watching as you bent over him, your hair tucked back with the hand nearest to him as you used your other and your, your mouth, to suck the head of him softly as you continued to work the length. You glanced up at him as you did, smiling as you pulled back to lick him in one broad stripe from root to tip, squeezing his sack gently with the other once he reached down and took your hair in his fist…oh god you wanted him to watch, you‘d been holding your hair back so he could see you, oh, oh!

He panted, thrusting up into your mouth, and you moaned around him, letting your hand fall so he could go deeper, oh god your tongue, your throat, fuck! You didn't look away from him for a moment, letting him hear every fast breath, every little choked off noise of enjoyment, practically making him watch as your eyes started to water…

It struck him all at once; you were so good, your mouth wet and warm around him, so demanding and insistent, that he fell over the edge almost before he realized what was happening. It made him grab your head with both hands now, not pressing you down as much as just holding you there while his legs shook so hard that you had to pin them. It was a burning, rushing, overwhelming heat that made him groan again and again through his clenched teeth, his entire body straining to his pleasure. Cumming in long spurts, while his magic sparked and fizzed up and down his bones, sucked gently from him by you as your eyes fluttered closed in delight. 

He fell backwards, and you worked him down. Panting, he grabbed the corner of the blanket and dragged it half over his face just to have a moment of darkness. Then you released him gently, pressing a kiss to his thigh as you moaned. “Fuck sweetheart, god yes…”

God his arms felt like jelly, his legs trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. And yet…

He had to, he had to, he wanted it so badly, a two month fantasy finally given the chance to come to life. Reaching up, he slid the pillow out from under his head, then started tugging at you until you came to rest at his side.

“Mmmm hi, was that good? I-”

“YES. NOW COME UP HERE, WITH YOUR KNEES ON EITHER SIDE OF MY HEAD.”

Your startled look sparked heat inside him, despite having literally just cum; he reached up and wiped a tiny drop of glowing orange magic from the corner of your lips, pressing it between them. He swore the inside of your mouth glowed slightly when you spoke, and it was the single most erotic thing he'd ever seen in his life.

“But…I, you-”

Eagerness and wariness warred in your expression. Papyrus nearly growled with desire, so badly did he want to do this to you. “COME ON, COME HERE. PLEASE.”

Slowly, hesitating, you scooted up on the bed…and then paused, biting your lip, kneeling beside his head. “But what if I squish you?”

“YEAH, THAT'S THE FUN PART.”

You gave one last argument, even as you worked your panties down off your legs and sat back to pull them free. “Oh, sweetheart I…it'll probably be so uncomfortable for you…what if you can't breathe?”

He wouldn't have recognized himself in a mirror at that moment, so filthy was the grin on his face as he licked his lips.

“SO…ABOUT THAT.”

Chapter Text

Oh he wanted it so fucking bad. 

You blinked at him, cocking your head as you tossed your panties somewhere in his bedroom. “Hm? Whatcha mean?”

He shrugged, self conscious, turning a bit on his side so he could admire your bare body while you lounged over on your hip. The way you were laying, it accentuated the curve of your waist so deliciously that he couldn't help but to sit up, his arms shaking a little with aftershocks of pleasure, and lean in to taste the plushness there. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your skin, full of wonder at the contrast between the two of you. How his body was made of graceful empty space and sharp angles, and how yours could be so soft, so plush, that the flesh creased there to form little valleys like the marble statue of Venus in the bath. 

In that moment he truly didn't think he was doing something particularly tantalizing; he was just trying to follow your advice. To do what felt right, to trust himself and listen to his own instincts. Yet you went so liquid hot at his kiss there, a little moan in your throat as you stretched out to give him more access to the curve of your body, that he was absolutely filled with pride. God it felt good to make you feel good. He did it again, lingering, sucking a hickey into the pale softness there, then another into your flank, moving down your thigh.

There, pressing his forehead to your skin and taking a steadying breath, he hid his smile of embarrassment and murmured, “I, UM…LIKE THAT? SOMETIMES? NOT BEING ABLE TO…TO BREATHE. DURING THINGS LIKE THIS. I DON'T HAVE TO, I'M A SKELETON AND ALL, BUT UM…”

Oh lord it was too embarrassing. He huffed a sigh against your hip, peeking at you from the corner of his eye to see what your reaction was.

Your mouth was open, your eyebrows raised so far that it crinkled your forehead a little as a warm smile slowly grew on your lips. “So…just to make sure I understand-”

“-MMHMM.’

“You don't have to?”

He shook his head, hiding in your thigh. “NOPE.”

“Like at all? Like nothing bad would happen, it's not hurting you. I wouldn't be hurting you at all?”

“LITERALLY NOT A SINGLE BIT.”

“But it feels like you have to.”

He nodded, blushing.

“And you like that sometimes.” Something had come into your voice.

“A LOT.”

You slid your leg out from under his forehead, sitting up and raising him by the chin at the same moment so that you could kiss him very innocently, your lips soft and gentle against his. 

And then;

“Baby…that's so hot I don't even know what to do with myself.”

He grinned against your lips, petting a hand down your side and belly, squeezing at the flesh there. “YOU COULD START BY DOING WHAT I WANT YOU TO.” 

You put your hand over his as he admired the curviness of your body. “And…you like this too…don't you. How I look.” It was more of a statement than a question, and he nodded again eagerly, gazing into your beautiful, fascinating eyes. “I DO. YOU'RE VERY LOVELY, AND SOFT, AND NICE TO TOUCH, AND YOU FEEL SO GOOD AGAINST ME, AND YOU AREN'T MADE OF HARD,  BORING BONES, AND-”

You were giggling as you interrupted his list. “Okay okay, goodness…thank you. Now you're gonna make me blush.”

He fell backwards, laying down and squirming comfortably into the mattress. “YOU KNOW…I NEVER EVEN KNEW THIS WAS A THING PEOPLE DID, YOU ON TOP LIKE THIS, UNTIL WE FIRST GOT TOGETHER. AND IT'S BEEN ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT SINCE. LIKE A PERVERT.” He whispered the last word with over exaggeration, making you laugh, as he meant to. 

Biting your lip, you looked him over with the oddest little quirk to your brow…and then nodded to yourself, reaching some inner decision. 

“Okay. But for real I…how far do you want what you mentioned to go, honey? Like I understand, conceptually, that you're a Skeleton and Skeletons don't need to breathe and all that...”

He smirked.

“But like…what's the cut-off here? How far is too far?”

His smirk grew.

“Oh you dirty man, Papyrus… Papyrus… ” You bent down, kissing him madly, your breasts hanging delectably like heavy fruits right beside his face, pressing into his chest. They called his hand irresistibly; he reached up, squeezing one, then rolling your nipple between his fingertips until you groaned, low and dirty into his mouth. 

Finally, he could reach his two hard little prizes the way he wanted to, leaning in to run his tongue over one, then suck it gently into his mouth, wary of his teeth now that there was no fabric to shield you. Was he copying things he'd read and seen in various smutty things? Of course he was. But he wanted to make you feel good, and if you liked his touch there…then perhaps you would like this too.

And oh, but you did. To the point that you wrapped your hand around the back of his head, your nails scratching very gently over the bone as you shivered and swore under your breath. He licked and sucked at both, switching sides once he was satisfied with how hard he'd gotten one, and your shaking gasps…and the way you were rubbing your thighs together, an almost unconscious movement of desire…it was all beautiful. It made him feel so proud, so fucking proud and so turned on all over again, his cock resting full and flushed a deep tangerine against his thigh. He usually made himself finish two or three times when he was alone, and had wondered if that would be different with you…apparently not. 

How fun. 

He tore himself away from your chest before he spent the rest of the night teasing and nibbling at your nipples, and let himself fall to lay flat on the mattress. “COME ON. PLEASE. LET ME DO THIS, I'VE WANTED TO FOR SO LONG, IT'LL BE SO FUN!"

There was no more hesitation in you; you were too turned on, too desperate. When you slung your leg over his neck, he could see how wet you were as your pussy was spread, and it made him shiver from eagerness. 

“I know you're not worried about it…but I am, still. Tap twice on my leg if you want me to move? Or just, you know, move me, you ridiculously strong Skeleton.”

He laughed so low in his chest that it shook his Soul. “I'LL TAP YOU IF I ACTUALLY WANT YOU TO MOVE. OTHERWISE…YOU KNOW. FIGHT BACK A LITTLE. DON'T LET ME GET AWAY TOO EASY. I BET YOU COULD BE QUITE TOUGH IF YOU WANTED, DESPITE BEING A DELICATE LITTLE HUMAN!”

“You're a grade-A pervert, baby. Now get in there.”

And then you shifted forward on your knees, and suddenly he was face to face with something he'd wanted since he knew to want it. Pink, plush, wet - shimmering with it, and completely bare. Huh. He knew some human women removed hair various ways…it was rather tantalizing, if he was honest. 

Your entrance, tiny and tempting…and then above that, tiny delicate folds like the petals of a flower, culminating in your clit. How fascinating…completely opposite from him, and yet so similar. He smiled, and wrapped his hands up around your thighs as he leaned up and ran his tongue gently through you. 

Oh, interesting. The experience was and wasn't what he expected…and yet the moment he tasted you, it felt right. Instinctual. The same tartness and sea water as on his couch, lingering on his tongue, something he'd imagine every time he jerked off for the rest of forever. 

He pulled you down, his fingertips digging into the crease of your thighs, and started sucking softly at your clit, interspersed with little fluttering licks, mimicking what he'd rewatched so many times. It was messy, slick and fun, and your immediate soft cry was a reward worth all the years of waiting. 

“Ah… yes…

You were so impossibly delicate there, so sensitive, that even his lips pursed against you and rubbed back and forth made you shiver and call his name. 

So caught up in your reaction, he almost forgot his second, selfish reason for this…And then he felt that first tremor of need in his chest, his body yearning for a breath. 

God yes. 

He let his growing desperation feed his movements, opening his mouth wide so he could press his tongue up inside you, his ‘nose’ buried at your clit, and that made you twitch, whispering, “God yes…fuck that feels so good, this is the first time I’ve ever done it this way…oh you're inside me… baby …”

His hips jumped at your words as his chest hitched, his magic churning and racing as his throat worked for air, and he shoved up at your thighs without meaning to…

…and you didn't move. In fact, you fought him back down, spreading your knees a tiny bit to press yourself even closer, smothering him completely with your pussy. The last air in him left in an explosive groan, a muffled “A-AH!” buried in your body as his cock bounced with excitement….and he loved it. Could he have simply tilted his head up? Sure…until the moment that he started to, and you leaned forward, shifting your body so he couldn't as you reached down and grabbed his skull, forcing him back in.

“Ah ah, that's not allowed…” Oh your voice was a purr, deep and dirty, and he grinned as he began sucking on your clit instead, starting to get light-headed. 

And obviously it wasn't ‘real’. He'd tested himself once; had gone nearly half an hour before his body gave up the struggle and accepted the lack of breath, and he got bored waiting for something more to happen. But god was that edge fun to ride until then. 

A particularly hard suck made you twitch up and away from him, whining; it gave him a chance to gasp in a deep breath and yank you back down, not wanting you to escape the sensation. His reward was an almost snarl, an explosive groan through your teeth as you began rocking on his mouth like you were fucking him. He flattened his tongue against your pussy, a saddle for you to ride and buck against; he reached up to squeeze your belly as he did, his other hand locked on the soft curve of your waist and encouraging your movements as you slid your hard little clit back and forth on his tongue. His hips kept jerking, little stunted thrusts as the heat of what he was doing, the taste and feel and water-wet sound of you, wound him tighter and tighter. 

You cried out, working yourself in tiny circles and long strokes, and it was the masturbatory aspect that got to him- he realized that you were probably riding his tongue like you touched yourself…and stars he wanted you to finish like this so damn bad, knowing that he helped, that he was the one who brought you to that edge. Your body soft in his hands, hips rocking, thighs trembling, one hand petting the top of his skull while the other plucked at your nipple. 

Then your motions changed, faster and more shakey as you whimpered, “Yes, god yes, honey please, just like that!” In moments, your back bowed, your head thrown back while your body arched toward its pleasure. Papyrus started to grin, holding very still and doing nothing to interrupt you- this was lovely, beautiful, everything like he'd read yet nothing like he'd imagined…it was so much better, wow.

It started in your legs, a tremble that exploded outward until you jerked in his arms, shaking, and Papyrus couldn't help but groan into your pussy, low and filthy, as the orgasm rolled through you in waves he could feel.

You were shaking as you half-crawled, half-fell to the side, leaning up against the headboard as you panted. “Oh my god, oh my god…”

He grinned as he sat up a little, breathing hard himself as he pressed his forehead to your knee and wrapped his arms up around whatever he could reach, feeling immensely affectionate and terribly turned on. You curled down over him, draped across his shoulders while you caught your breath, and Papyrus thought vaguely to himself that he'd have liked a picture of this moment, or at least a way to see it from the outside so he could sketch it. You both were graceless in your pleasure, breathless and intertwined, and it seemed so terribly real, so beautiful.

After a minute or two, you scooted down the bed to lay beside him, and he was filled with hot pride as he felt the tremble in your thighs. He turned to spoon you, snuggling close behind and enjoying how your heated, sweat-misted skin felt against his cool bones. In answer you made a little noise, stretching against him; it invited him to cup a breast from behind and press a kiss to your hair after he quickly wiped his face on the discarded t-shirt half-hanging off the bed. He shoved a leg between yours, doing his best to angle his erection away from your hips as he did; it was a war within him, part wanting to get as close as physically possible, to be inside you and around you, to be all you could think about…and the gentler part wanted to let you calm, let your trembling muscles ease and the pleasure fade to warmth and sleepiness. 

Then something so simple and beautiful happened that, though he didn't know it yet, he'd think about it for years afterwards.

You turned your head to catch him in a soft kiss…and the movement of your body brought your plush rump up against his hard cock…

And when he pulled back, there was an agreement in your eyes as old as time. You didn't even say the word so much as breathed it…

“Please…”

It was instinct that drove him, instinct that made him drop his hand from your breast down to your thigh. Instinct that made him bend it up at the hip, his fingers digging into that pillowy texture.

Instinct that made him shift just a tiny bit behind you, a few inches lower in the bed so he could angle himself just right…

And then your hand, reaching down and guiding him home, a slow easy slide into your body, slick with the pleasure he gave you, that made you shiver from head to toe against him, a soft sound caught in your throat

He'd thought he might feel different within himself, somehow, once this happened. Like some fundamental part of him would change. And oddly, it both did and didn't. He was still him…but now, he knew things he never did before. How it felt to be inside a woman, to feel her gasp and arch in his arms. The sound she'd make as he slid his other arm under her pillow to hold her hand. 

He went still, his breath coming in strained gulps as he squeezed his eyes closed a moment and buried his face in your hair. God he could feel you, could feel the aftershocks of pleasure inside your body, the faint little rhythmic clenches of your sex that matched the tremble in your legs, so much more pronounced now that he held one in his elbow. You whispered his name, arching your head back against his chin and shifting, a slight tilt of your hips to seat him deeper within…

Your voice was so soft, so full of affection and a touch of an emotion he didn't have the bravery to think of yet. “Guess I should have asked sooner, baby…I'm on birth control, does that matter either way for Monsters?”

He shook his head, overwhelmed…yet unable to resist the need to rock out and then back into your body. “NO…NO. THAT ONLY HAPPENS IF YOU…IF WE BOTH WANT IT TO, AND I…OH MY GOD…” He couldn't find words anymore, too lost in sensation and the squeeze of his magic within his Soul. 

“ Yes, oh please, please…please more, you feel so good, please-”

He wasn't gonna last, that was for damn sure. It was all too much, too wildly overwhelming and beautiful and god you felt so good, but he'd do his damn best to give you exactly what you wanted. 

Whether it was because you knew what you were doing and could help him along, or because the two of you were just a naturally good fit…or perhaps a bit of both…he soon found a rhythm so amazing that it made his eyelights flicker and dim, unable to maintain his focus on them.

And you were so sweet to him, so kind. Whispering little words of encouragement, telling him how good he felt, how well he was making love to you- praising him for how hard he'd made you cum just minutes before. You were rocking your hips back with him too, taking him so deeply that the illogical worry of hurting you flickered across his mind.

It occurred to him, as his hand tightened and his teeth grit, getting close enough that his toes were curling against the comforter, that you were making this the best possible first time that you could. Going above and beyond to make him feel confident, to assure him that you were absolutely satisfied…

“YOU'RE ONE OF THE N-NICEST PEOPLE I'VE EVER MET- THANK YOU, THIS IS…GOD, YOU, THIS-”

He couldn't get the sentence out, but you seemed to understand him anyway. 

“You do feel good, don't think I'm making any of it up, oh… sweetheart yes, please just like that, that angle, yes-”

He'd scooted down a little further in the bed, draping your leg over his pelvis so he could arch your back a bit more, buying himself more room to actually move in and out of you…and he felt the change as soon as he did, your pussy tightening around him, getting wetter as you started to moan breathily with each thrust. It was dragging his head back and forth across the front wall of your body; your g-spot, as the internet called it. 

“That…hah, fuck yes, oh my god please keep going I…sweetheart, baby, oh!”

It was getting harder and harder to bully his way back inside you, your body clenching tighter with each thrust. Yet you loved it, for each time he groaned, each time he used a touch of his strength to force himself back in, it made you cry out, begging with broken words for more, harder, yes, don't stop-

He was close, fuck he was close, he could feel it burning at the base of his spine, could feel his sack tighten and his cock swell…and oh god he'd forgotten something terribly important-

“THERE'S A THING THAT HAPPENS. WITH MONSTERS-” His eyes rolled back as you clenched down around him, arching. Focus Papyrus, focus. “WHEN WE C-CUM…IT'S CAUSE OF OUR SOULS. MEMORIES, THOUGHTS- IT'S AS CLOSE OR DISTANT AS YOU WANT IT TO BE, BUT DON'T GET FREAKED OUT OR ANYTHING…BUNNY, B-BUNNY, I CAN'T-”

There was a very strange sensation happening, something magical that he truly didn't have the mind to explain or explore in the moment- all his thoughts suddenly filled with you, and more, and harder, and deeper. It was like…an echo. A reflection. As if he was feeling something that wasn't his, sharing in something that didn't exactly belong to his body.

He realized he was feeling himself making love to you, dear fucking god, at the same time that you cried out, your voice cracking-

“Oh my god baby, baby, Papyrus, I can…I can feel you, I can feel myself around you, what-”

And his helpless answer-

“FUCK, STARS, I'M SORRY I C-CAN'T HELP IT, I-”

The lines were blurring; where did his pleasure stop, where did yours begin? The loud slapping sound of his hips into yours was maddening, hypnotic; he was fucking you harder than he meant to, but you loved it…and god, he could FEEL how much you loved it, because your pleasure was reflecting over to him somehow, his Soul sparking the connection between the two of you. Would it always be like this? Would he always feel so madly, insanely out of his own mind and body? God help him if so, he'd never leave this bedroom again, never leave the embrace of your arms again.

How did he get so lucky? He'd heard, vaguely, that this could happen. That one in countless pairs was such a good match that the innate connection between two lovers went even deeper than the usual Soul-bond, that they could feel each other, hear each other sometimes-

Was that what this was? It had to be, there was no other explanation.

And that knowledge- more than your tight little pussy, more than your sweet voice, more than your arching body -ripped him over the edge and held him there, teetering…frantically thrusting, groaning your name…held at the peak of pleasure like torture, like bliss…

Your voice dropped so deep into your chest that it cracked, your hand tight around his as the nails of your other wrapped up behind your head to dig into the back of his skull. “Oh my god I'm gonna cum…!”

He could feel it…he could feel it hecouldfeelit, you were so close- and he could feel it inside himself somehow, somehow, could feel the pleasure rushing from your toes to your pussy, making your legs stiffen, making you arch your back-

His body was waiting for you. Wouldn't let him finish until you did, forcing him kicking and screaming to the pinnacle and holding him there as he fucked you harder than he'd ever dreamed-

“ PLEASE YES, DO IT ON ME, AROUND ME, I-”

“Fuck!!!”

You buried your wail in the pillow as you came, your legs shaking and stiff as your toes pointed, as your pussy locked so hard around him that he had no other choice but to follow you over that edge, crying out his name again and again. He was nearly silent in contrast, groaning softly into your hair, his hips jumping as cum churned up his cock and into you in long, pulsing ropes. God it was so much, too much, he felt raw and overexposed, like a nerve stripped bare to the air. Whining through his teeth, he hid his face against you, trying to weather his pleasure and the echoes of yours both…

And then his Soul sparked the connection, just as you raised your linked hands and pressed his fingers to your open, panting mouth.

He felt you jump a little in surprise, voicing a breathless little “...oh?” when the flush of memories and snippets of feelings, the emotions, the request for togetherness , made contact with your Soul. 

For the first time, he opened his eyes and looked over your head, paying attention to the room and not just you. He realized that you'd been watching the two of you in his standing mirror, had been facing it the whole time. Now he made eye contact with you in it, his face sweating excess magic, his eyes so unusually bright orange that they almost outshone the white-hot brilliance of his Soul

You stared at each other, both your expressions open and desperate. Then you blinked twice…and the connection wavered into place, hesitant and simple. 

There were no visual or audible memories on his side, no thoughts momentarily sliding up next to his own like he'd been told could happen with another Monster. Maybe that couldn't happen at all with a human. But he felt your affection, your surprise and growing awe as you realized he could feel you too…

And it was enough. 

He let your leg fall and pulled you tight against himself as his cock slipped free, softening and slowly fading, needing to feel you close against his chest as he closed his eyes and waited giddily for the world to stop spinning. You squirmed, fighting his grip until he loosened it enough for you to turn in his arms, until you were laying facing him, one of his legs trapped between your own and your face buried against his chest. 

When you giggled, then laughed, he couldn't help but join you, pulling the pillow over the side of his head and panting like he'd run a marathon.

“Good holy fucking god… ” He felt your satisfaction, your bone-deep pride that he was yours, your man, that he'd done so well for you, and flushed down to his collarbones. “I…christ honey, I'm too sensitive to even put my legs together.”

He chuckled darkly, very gently pressing down on your thigh as he used his knees to shift your leg backwards a bit, making you whine. “I LIKE THAT. VERY MUCH.”

You both went quiet for a few minutes, catching your breath. And then your gentle murmur, full of awe and fascination-

“Is this…magic? I can feel you, I…I swear I saw…your family, a snowy place…”

He nodded. “IT HAPPENS, WHEN WE, UM…YOU KNOW.”

That made you giggle again. “Don't tell me you can fuck like that and then not say cum, for god's sake? Silly man.”

Chuffing out a breath, he turned on his back, loving how you immediately cuddled into his side. “WELL PERHAPS I AM ALL SHY AND MAIDENLY. ALSO…IF IT BOTHERS YOU, IN THE FUTURE, YOU CAN REFUSE IT.” He hesitated. “I WON'T BE UPSET IF YOU DO.”

Your answer was immediate. “That's a lie. I can feel that…and why would I refuse it? It's…it's beautiful. Your people are so beautiful, you're so beautiful. How could a race so kind and good form at the same time as us?”

There was much he could say to that. But you were warm and soft against him, your Soul wrapped as snuggly around his mind as a blanket in winter, and he felt his eyelids growing heavy. 

“I REALLY CARE ABOUT YOU…THANK YOU. FOR NOT MAKING A BIG DEAL OUT OF…THINGS. FOR BEING SO SWEET.”

Your gentle kiss made him smile. He glanced at your face, and then, for some reason, your chest…

Oh. Oh.

“I CAN'T ALWAYS SEE IT…NOT UNLESS I CALL YOUR SOUL OUT. BUT I CAN RIGHT NOW, THANKS TO…ALL OF THIS.”

He hesitated, unable to find the words for how happy this made him, how important and unique and lovely this was for Monsters. Finally he gave up and settled for basic explanation, hoping that the post-sex connection between the two of you would carry over the importance of this, how much he valued it.

“YOUR SOUL IS THE EXACT SAME COLOR AS MY MAGIC. TRUE ORANGE. BRAVERY, STRAIGHT THROUGH.”

Your answering smile was as bright as the stars in the sky.

“The same as you…oh. I love that.”

God he was so happy. Thank you, Stars, for lighting the way. Thank you, Frisk, for buying them all this chance. 

The two of you fell asleep whispering romantic nonsense and giggling over memes, snuggled together under the blankets. 

-

He woke late the next morning with your leg thrown over his and his phone ringing frantically under his pillow with constant incoming texts and calls.

Reaching to grab it, squinting blearily, he read the most recent text from Undyne just as it came through.

Undyne, 11:45: and look I really hate to interrupt anything but they want you NOW. The Dogs think it was the kerosene tank on the cafe or truck or something. Stupid idiots didn't know Tor can control fire, I guess. No one's dead yet but lots got messed up. You there, nerdblossom?

He swore, and sat up fast enough that it scared you awake.

“SORRY, SORRY. STAY HERE. I HAVE TO GO.”

“What?”

He got up quickly, grabbing a random pair of pants off the back of his desk chair. “SOMETHING'S HAPPENED TO THE QUEEN.”

Your eyes went wide. “Oh no…”

Chapter Text

Toriel had her teeth bared in a subtle snarl, her arms crossed in front of her chest as she glared at the scene before her. Asriel stood at her side; he turned when Papyrus closed the door on his sedan. 

Midway Park was, as its name suggested, half in Monster territory and half in city limits. It was lovely and well-maintained, the royal family using it as a way to encourage positive feelings toward Monsters and for the King to show off his genuinely prestigious test gardens. The central fountain was huge and lovely, carved out of solid marble and bespelled to shine in soft prismatic light. Benches, lounge chairs, and picnic tables were everywhere, as were huge, magically-accelerated oak trees to offer shade beyond the large shade sails over some sitting areas. Decorative bushes and low hedge walls delineated places for sports of all kinds.

It was hard to see the beauty at that moment, though. It looked like a small day carnival had gone haywire- a large collection of bouncehouses and inflatable slides were half deflated at one end of the cream-colored gravel gathering space in the center of the park. At the other, multiple food trucks sat smoking; two were, quite frankly, demolished. Their tops were gone, and what remained of the shredded side panels was scorched black, with scattered trash and bits of half-melted plastic laying on the ground around them. The seating under the central sunshades was abandoned; groups of humans and Monsters stood or sat talking quietly around the edges, while paramedics trotted back and forth across the park. There were police and sniffer-Dogs everywhere. 

“Welcome to the fuckery,” the younger Boss Monster muttered, a slim gold chain strung between his horns. Papyrus whistled lowly, glancing at Toriel; she wore a gold circlet on her forehead.

“A ROYAL EVENT?” He asked, stepping up beside Toriel and motioning to her accoutrement. It was unusual to see her wearing the official mark of her station outside of the Underground.

She nodded. “A luncheon in the park, to welcome a collection of banking officials and financial CEOS; the first willing to accept and exchange Monster gold per international rates. Now, we shall see how that works out…” 

The Queen and prince looked handsome next to each other, matching in bright green and copper Monster styles. Asriel growled under his breath, leaning over to bump shoulders with him. “We had food trucks, a bounce house, some fancy face painters and a juggler; there was even gonna be a band later on. Whole family day, right? The humans brought their kids to meet the treasury families and their kids…it was going great.” He sighed. “So of course someone blew the food trucks, the kerosene tanks on both. Broad daylight, eleven sharp. Burned the living shit out of the people working on them. I don't know if the one lady is gonna make it or not. Asked Undyne to try to get you, was too busy focusing on this until like literally five minutes ago.”

Toriel nodded, watching the first responders as they swarmed over the field like ants. “They are lucky we were here. They are lucky you were here. None would have survived their injuries. As always, you surpass me in your talents.”

He waved the compliment away, the fur around his ears fluffing faintly. “Oh leave off it, mom.”

Frisk, in a cream and black suit, was walking quickly toward the three of them. As they got closer, Papyrus saw the subtle red ruby bar at their collar, set into a golden pin of the Deltarune- the only thing delineating their status, visibly, to any Monsters who somehow didn't already know them. He smiled, accepting their hug. Then they tugged him down, and whispered,

“I SAVE. Every night. But it'll be hard to go back if we have to.”

He blinked; such simple words, such incredible weight behind them- why were they telling him that? Just as quietly, he turned to murmur as Asriel and Toriel were called away by the police chief, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS ABOUT WHAT THIS IS? ANY THOUGHTS IN THAT FLUFFY, BROWN HEAD OF YOURS?”

They said nothing, only chewed their lip and stared at the food trucks for a minute or two. A cluster of police were grouped around one in particular, along with the detective and a handful of Dogs. 

Frisk gestured gracefully, reaching forward with their hands extended, then pulling back like they were dragging a large piece of paper toward themselves. 

Suddenly, Papyrus could hear the conversation happening as clearly as if he stood in the middle of that hushed circle, especially as Toriel and Asriel joined them.

“THAT'S NEW.”

Frisk shrugged. Signing quickly, they answered, “Everything has a volume. A…soundtrack. I've learned how to use those controls, a little.”

Well that was…amazing, quite frankly. Papyrus shook his head- there was only room for one incredible thing to focus on here -and forced his thoughts back to the conversation between all of those clumped around the back of the vehicle. 

“-logically, that the arsonist attached their ignition devices to the trucks before they ever arrived. Our watchdog spells would’ve alerted us to any nasty shit someone tried here, hard as that may be to understand for all of yous humans. You'll just have to trust us on that. They’re old and simple, and humans don't have the magical knack to trick ‘em.” That was good old Doggo, leaning against the back of the third, unburnt truck. “Any word on the humans who ran these? Can they talk yet? I wanna know if they hired anyone new the past few days. Lost any employees at the last minute and had to pick up a new cook outta nowhere.”

The detective, a human woman, shook her head. “It's a wonder they're alive. The explosion…it was bad. No one would have walked away from that if it hadn't been for their majesties.” She nodded respectfully to Toriel and Asriel. “Humans don't walk away from injuries like that. Humans don't survive a kerosene explosion that big. And of course they were BBQ companies, so their tanks were bigger than if they were just running a grill or something.”

A state police officer sighed. “This is tactical to the point of psychotic, past a disgruntled bigot or something similar. The amount of planning, the technical knowhow, the information gathering-”

Asriel chimed in. “Especially now that they have help. Our forensics team is good, but layer enough encryptions, a high-quality VPN, and the right hardware…they could be posting from anywhere.

He felt a tap on his arm; Frisk was holding their phone up to him, showing what Asriel was talking about. Taking it, he scanned over the screen quickly. It was a random online forum, the type of place where human social degenerates posted disgusting gore pictures and vague sexual fantasies about enslaving women and other such nonsense. A poster named ‘Fever’ had made a post at 10:55 that morning- five minutes before the explosion.

“My Beloved Humanity,

We are living in a time of great challenge, a time when doing the right thing isn’t just a choice—it’s a mandate from the highest authority. You know, they say, "Good deeds aren’t done for the applause," and let me tell you, that’s true. You don’t help your fellow man because you want a trophy, or a pat on the back. No, you do it because it’s the right thing to do, because deep down, you know what’s good and what’s bad. And, believe me, we’ve seen plenty of bad.

Now, I’m here to deliver the truth, and some of you won’t want to hear it, but that’s okay, cause I’m used to telling people what they don’t want to hear. For far too long, we’ve allowed a terrible infestation to take root in our home. We’ve smiled, we’ve nodded, we’ve played along as these *things*—these grotesque, unnatural beings—have slithered up from the depths and tried to pretend they’re just like us.

Well, I’m here to tell you, folks, they’re not. And I know you’re smart enough to see that too; you know it, and I know it. But let’s be very clear for anyone out there still living in denial—these so-called Monsters are abominations. Their so-called ‘magic’? It’s nothing but a vile perversion of the natural order, a sickening distortion of reality as we know it.

Now, I understand what it’s like to live in a world that seems unfair. I understand what it’s like when others, these ugly, twisted beings, take what’s rightfully yours and spit in your face with their very existence. But today, my friends, I’m giving you the chance to take it all back. This is your moment. This is your chance to set things right, to restore the order, to make the world fair again.

You have the power to be a hero.

A protector.

A FEVER that cleanses this world of the disease that has taken root.

And believe me, folks, it’s time to do the right thing.

At eleven o'clock today, the queen ant and its disgusting little larvae, and all of these corporate elites who support them from the shadows, will get a blessing of fire; maybe you've seen my previous work, here in our beautiful city of Ebott and our neighbord. That was but a taste, and this is but a beginning. 

I've attached a guide. A Bible, for the true believer. To let you cleanse them with fire too.

Good luck. God be with you.

-Fever.”

The young mage looked cold. “ They posted every step of this in the attachments,” they signed. “They wanted to brag, and get feedback I think. To do better next time. Instructions for how to make different chemicals, how to light a fuse from a distance…”

Papyrus read over the attached guides quickly; Frisk was right. Already, dozens of others had commented on the post. Most of them were claiming it was either fake or insane, others were calling them a murderer and a bigot, but more than a few were applauding the arsonist… and asking what they could do to help.

“Asriel said before you got here that they're getting the FBI involved, to find the other people who commented on it and see if that leads anywhere.”

He nodded, rereading it a few more times.

They talk like a priest, he thought. The pattern of speech is the same as those Deep South churches full of bigotry and hellfire crazies. And they refer to Ebott as theirs, as if they live here. But no slang. No cursing. They're eloquent and well-spoken.

“AND THE CROWN, THE FBI, THEY ALREADY KNOW ALL OF THIS?”

“Asriel is the one who saw it first, minutes after the explosion when the paramedics and police started arriving. A friend of his sent it to him. He showed everyone else, and that's when talk of the FBI started.”

Then Frisk looked up at him, and their lovely, scarlet eyes were sad. Haunted.

“I could try to LOAD. Go back to last night, warn everybody. The lady from the one truck would be alive if I did. But it would be…so hard. So much bigger than LOADING behind the barrier. I could only SAVE that last time on the mountainside because the other Souls all helped me.” They were hiding their signs close to their chest, standing close so no one else could see. “ And even if I could LOAD it now, the humans will wonder how we knew ahead of time… what's better? Stop a tragedy before it can happen? Or let it happen so you can use what comes after? The FBI are finally involved. The police are finally taking this seriously. It only took one dead lady…do I undo all of that, and hope the asshole’s next idea isn't worse?”

Stars above. Papyrus wasn't ready for this level of moral quandary, at barely half-past noon on a Saturday.

“I…I DON'T KNOW.” 

The mage's face was drawn and pale. “This will be the rest of my life. Wondering when it's the right time to interfere.”

He could do nothing else but hug them. “I'M SORRY.” He'd kept an ear on the magically-amplified meeting going on between the fire chief, the Ebott police chief, the state police chief, the detective, and the Royals. Plans were being laid for cyber intervention, and to pull street cameras and private camera footage from around the two restaurants whose trucks had been targeted, and to question the owners as soon as the hospital declared they were in stable enough condition to do so. Toriel and Asriel had saved them from certain death. But it would take a day at least before law enforcement could ask them what they knew.

One of Toriel's human assistants came trotting over to Papyrus, a large manilla folder inside a clear plastic sleeve in her arms. 

She smiled up at him shakily; he searched for her name for a moment. Charlotte, that was right. She was always so kind to him when he saw her.

“Here you go, darlin’! Her majesty most certainly is wantin’ you to have this. I was supposed to drive it over after this all ended in the evenin’…but now is as good a time as any, I guess.”

Papyrus took it from her, smiling at the touch of Southern drawl still in her voice even after years of living here in Ebott. “AND I APPRECIATE YOU! THANK YOU VERY MUCH, MISS CHARLOTTE.”

She blushed, turning away to walk quickly back to where she and some other palace staff were managing a crowd of well-dressed, uneasy humans and their children.

Distantly, he realized that perhaps she'd been interested in him for sometime. She'd always been sweet to him, always blushing and a bit shy.

What a nice thing to know.

Toriel was coming back to them as well, Asriel a step off her heel.

“Good, you have it. That is what I wanted you here for, more than anything. To see this with your own eyes, and have that in your hands.”

He nodded. “THIS IS A MESS, YOUR MAJESTY. DO YOU THINK IT DAMAGED ANYTHING UNFIXABLY WITH THE IMPORTANT HUMAN-FOLK OVER YONDER?”

She shook her head. “On the contrary…some, I think, are quite impressed by my son's work here. He grabbed up two little girls and fixed their scrapes as he ran across the field. Their parents, respectively, were two of the most important couples here to impress, one a CEO, one a CFO. Another, a majority owner of Atlantic Lending, has already commented several times on the speed of our emergency personnel, having a military background himself.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Frisk visibly sag with relief; every reason they were given to not have to LOAD was an immeasurable weight off their back. Asriel was beside them at once, tucking them under his arm. 

Toriel smiled at him. “I am sorry, to call you away from your home with such short notice. I will send you any results or answers we find from this unhappy day. Now, am I wrong to assume that, perhaps, your lady friend is there waiting for you?”

Behind her, Asriel and Frisk both sharply looked up at him. Frisk started to grin. Asriel's jaw dropped in uninformed indignation.

“Excuse me, your what?!”

Papyrus smirked, bowing to his Queen. “BE LESS BUSY, AND I'LL TELL YOU. BESIDES, I WASN'T THE ONE WHO WANTED A NEW PHONE AND HAD TO WAIT A MONTH FOR THE BACKORDER.”

He turned to go as Asriel sputtered. “It's not my fault it was delayed! It was a trade-in! You try not having a phone for three weeks, I thought I was gonna die! Besides, there's the Undernet! Postcard! Passenger pigeon! Royal courier for god's sake, this is important news!!”

Chuckling, he waved over his head to his indignant friend, feeling Frisk's gentle chime of their magic off his as they said goodbye their own way. 

“Text me, you shithead! I want the DEETS!!!”.

He drove off smiling faintly, the folder full of investigation notes on the seat beside him.

-

You met him at the door, freshly showered and visibly nervous. 

“Is everything okay? I just saw the news on Undernet, are you okay?”

He nodded, hugging you close as he tossed the folder into the couch. “I'M JUST FINE. ONE HUMAN LADY PROBABLY IS NOT. MANY MORE ALSO WOULD NOT BE, IF TORIEL AND ASRIEL HADN'T BEEN THERE.”

When you frowned, cocking your head, he explained, “THEIR MAGIC. THE QUEEN AND ASR-THE PRINCE, THEIR MAGIC IS HEALING AND CONTROLLING FIRE. THEY WERE ABLE TO HELP MOST OF THE HURT PEOPLE.”

You smiled up into his eyes; when you did, the afternoon sun highlighted a dim, shadowy bruise on your shoulder, visible only thanks to your tanktop. A mark from him, from the night before. 

“The prince is your friend, isn't he?”

Stepping around you, he wandered over to the fridge and began rooting around for something interesting to make for lunch. “YUP! AND HE'S DYING TO MEET YOU.” He turned, wiggling a block of cheddar in one hand. “ANY STRONG FEELINGS AGAINST SOMETHING CHEESEY AND RICEY?"

Eagerly your shook your head. “Nope! I was gonna make something for when you got back, but…you know. I didn't know if you were saving anything, or were like, super protective of your kitchen.”

How silly. You could point to the wallpaper and he'd peel it for you. “YOU CAN GET INTO ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING IN THIS HOUSE THAT YOU WANT TO. SANS ONLY MAKES BREAKFAST STUFF, SOMETIMES, AND EVEN THEN HE CAN JUST GO GET MORE. IT'S VERY, VERY EASY FOR HIM TO GO TO THE STORE, TRUST ME. BUT IF HE SAYS SOMETHING IS SPICY, DEAR LORD BELIEVE HIM .” He shivered at past tongue-burning, lip-numbing Sans recipes.

Looking terribly fond, you stepped up and wrapped your arms around his ribs, smooshing your face into his chest and nuzzling your nose there. “Okay…”

He gave up searching for the cheese grater a moment and scooped you in, pressing a silly, loud kiss to the top of your head. “SORRY I HAD TO LEAVE SO FAST. UNDYNE DIDN'T SAY IF I WAS GETTING THERE AT THE BEGINNING OR THE END OF AN EMERGENCY.”

Your sneaky little fingers slipped under the hem of his shirt. “It's okay. That's more important than anything. I'm…” You hesitated, searching for how to phrase what you wanted to say. “I'm really proud of you. Like…you're a really important person for your people, and it's very impressive, and…I'm proud of you.”

Well now how was he supposed to focus on lunch? He felt himself blush; your attention was always headier than whiskey, warming his belly. 

“THERE'S A MARK ON YOUR NECK…RIGHT HERE…”

He touched the spot gently, and you smiled with heat in your eyes. “Oh yeah? Well, I did spend the night with my boyfriend…”

“OH?”

You nodded, stepping closer so you could tickle your hand down his spine. “Very handsome, very sweet…blew my mind honestly, I think I saw stars at one point. So what happened? Can I know? Or is it, you know, important royal stuff. Cause I get it if it is.”

“BUNNY I COULDN'T KEEP A SECRET FROM YOU NO MATTER WHAT.” Never let it be said he didn't know himself. “YOU'RE JUST GONNA HAVE TO BE REALLY, REALLY GOOD AT KEEPING THEM FROM EVERYONE ELSE. BUT THIS ISN'T ONE REALLY. DON'T TALK ABOUT IT, OBVIOUSLY, WE DON'T NEED RUMORS. BUT-”

Your crooked smile, sweet and flattered, made it hard to keep track of what he was saying. “I'M SERIOUS! YOU SEE, I ALSO SPENT THE NIGHT WITH MY GIRLFRIEND, AND HONESTLY IT'S RIDICULOUS HOW INTO HER I AM! SHE COULD SAY, ‘OH PAPYRUS DEAREST, WHAT IS THE MOST CLASSIFIED THING YOU KNOW ABOUT THE ROYALTY OF MONSTERS?’, AND IF SHE ASKED CUTELY ENOUGH I'D PROBABLY JUST SAY ‘IN TEN OR TWELVE POINT FONT, DEAR?’...I CANNOT HELP IT. THAT'S WHY I'M GLAD SHE'S A REALLY GOOD PERSON.”

Giggling, you shook your head. “Nonsense. I'm a nasty, stinky lady. I'm sure there's plenty of others out there perfectly suited to you-”

Still holding you, he touched his fingers to your chest. “NO. THERE REALLY AREN'T.” You fell quiet as your Soul hummed in resonance with his magic, a tuning fork made perfectly to match him. “THIS ISN'T COMMON. THIS ISN'T NORMAL, IN A VERY SEXY, VERY FUN, VERY TOUCHING WAY. IT'S RARE AND LOVELY AND I DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND HOW WE GOT LUCKY ENOUGH TO BE IN THE SAME PLACE AT THE SAME TIME TO MEET.”

You blinked, the oddest combination of affection and something deeper and beautiful on your face. “Can I admit something absolutely batshit crazy to you?”

He nodded. 

“When everything…happened. Which I guess you know something about, probably thanks to Roger-” Another nod, and a very subtle tightening of his grip as if to reassure you “-I wasn't like, spur of the moment grabbing my dog and running out the door. I planned it, for days. Trying to figure out how far I'd need to go, what kind of place would be safest, if I wanted a bigger city or somewhere in the country...” You leaned into his shirt, speaking into the fabric. “...what I'm about to say sounds nuts, by the way.”

Your Soul was thrumming chords, chiming in time to your words like music. “TELL ME ANYWAY.”

“I had no logical reason to choose Ebott. It was four hours further than the furthest place I looked. But I came back to it again and again. The idea of a whole new race of people was so intimidating, but I came back to it. The idea of moving to another state was so intimidating, but I came back to it-”

Please.

“-and I know, I promise I know this sounds like a lunatic thing to say-”

His smile was growing.

“-but I swear to God I think it was because you're here.”

You were so embarrassed that you wouldn't lift your head from his chest to meet his eye. “And I really, really hope that doesn't come across as like a crazy stalking girlfriend thing or something, oh god why did I tell you that…”

Gently, so gently, he wrapped one hand around the back of your hair, and one around your shoulders, and pulled you close as he took a moment to close his eyes and savor how this felt. How your words touched him. 

“...IT DOESN'T. AT ALL.”

Papyrus was waiting for you. Waiting to help you. Waiting for you to help him. He just hadn't known it himself, either.

“...can we go to…to S-Snowdin, sometime? I'm sorry, did I say that right? It was…so strange, so lovely, to try to understand what I saw last night. But I'd love to go there. It looked very sweet.”

“SURE. ANYTIME. OUR HOUSE IS STILL THERE AND ALL. I HAVE A VERY SICK-ASS RACECAR BED BUT IT’S BASICALLY A TWIN, SO WE MIGHT WANNA SLEEP AT THE INN, THOUGH.”

Your laugh was clear and lovely. “Okay.”

He leaned back so he could look at you; you were still blushing faintly. “SOULS ARE WHAT MAKE THE IMPOSSIBLE, POSSIBLE. SOULS ARE WHERE MAGIC COMES FROM AND WHERE IT ACTS, USUALLY. I…BUNNY, I'M NOT GONNA PRETEND I UNDERSTAND HUMAN SOULS, OR HUMANS, COMPLETELY. EVEN I, THE MOST WONDERFUL AMBASSADOR MONSTERS COULD HAVE EVER HAD, FIND YOU ALL TO BE RATHER CONFUSING AT TIMES…”

Oh, how to say it.

“YOU LIVE IN A WORLD OF MAGIC NOW. IT'S REAL, IT'S HERE, I CAN WORK IT…AND MAYBE, FROM AS FAR AWAY AS YOU WERE…YOU COULD FEEL ME WISHING THAT I FOUND YOU. I JUST DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE YOU, YET.”

You glanced aside, visibly overwhelmed by emotion for a moment. He kissed the top of your head. “I'M SORRY, THAT YOU HAD TO GO THROUGH WHAT YOU DID. I WISH YOU'D FOUND YOUR WAY HERE FROM A HAPPIER PLACE.”

“What happened then…it's done. I'm really, truly happy now.”

Leaning down, drawn by your loveliness and the song of your Soul, he caught your eye…and filled with pride as you turned your face up to him, asking for a kiss without even saying anything. 

“SO AM I…”

His lips were a breath away from yours…when Sans popped into existence not a scant inch from your side, scrambling backwards as both of you shrieked in surprise. 

Papyrus simply sighed, bracing you as you nearly tripped over yourself.

“- JESUS what the fuck?!”

“-fuck me to hell, shit! sorry!”

“BROTHER, I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO HANG A SOCK ON THE VOID…BUT YOU'D BETTER FIGURE IT OUT.”

-

Sans took over lunch, feeling in a rare mood to cook, while Papyrus sat at the table next to you and told the tale about the morning's events. 

“-EXPLODED. IT WAS BAD. I HOPE THE PEOPLE ARE OKAY. THE HUMAN DETECTIVE SAID THEY'D BE DEAD IF ASRIEL HADN'T BEEN THERE WITH THE QUEEN.”

Sans stayed very carefully quiet at that, slicing sourdough as his shakshuka base simmered. Inwardly, Papyrus sighed. He knew very well why Sans despised the young prince, just as he knew why Asriel wouldn't come near the oldest Skeleton (half respect, half genuine terror). But he also knew that if you didn't allow people to change, then they had no reason to…and didn't that invite more problems than it solved?

Busily peeling apples, you hummed. “So the prince…he can heal people? That's amazing, what a wonderful skill to have.” Turning to Sans, you pointed at him with the small paring knife teasingly. 

Only Papyrus knew him well enough to see the lightning-fast focus of his brother's eyelights on the blade, tracking its movement through the air. 

None of them would ever completely heal from the Mountain. 

“Is it weird to ask what you can do, then? Magic is so cool, I love how some people's can be so different.”

Sans shrugged, cracking eggs into the skillet of simmering sauce. “bones, mostly. some blue magic. other things”

Nodding, you finished peeling your apple, and started on a new one. Papyrus opened the Undernet and began a message to Asriel.

Then-

“For the record, both of you describe your magic the exact same way- ‘bones, blue magic…and other things’ -and it's not my business, we all have private stuff.” You glanced up at them both and winked. “But maybe work out a less obvious answer if you're keeping something to yourselves.” 

Sans grinned, shooting a glance at his brother, who shrugged. “what can we say, great minds think alike.”

Papyrus summoned a long, thin bone and used it to stir his tea innocently. 

“And, what would you call that other useful trick, mister? Teleportation? Transposition? I don't know if you're moving you, or if you're moving everything else around you. Seems like a hell of a lot of effort for the second one.”

Sans shot you a delighted look, almost flattered, as he toasted bread on a dry skillet. “...well aren't you a sharp little icepick.” He took the kettle off as it began to whistle. “more like cutting an asset out of one layer, and pasting it into another. teleportation is the easiest word for it.”

“Huh.” You brought the apples over to him as Papyrus looked on, smiling faintly. “Damn.”

Glancing in the fridge, Sans grumbled in his throat. “ah, crud. bro would ya get me some butter from the garage?”

The younger Skeleton nodded, strolling out to the garage fridge. As the door closed behind him, Sans turned to you. 

“hey. fair warning. and you can tell him i told you this if you want to, but i didn't wanna say it in front of him.”

You cocked a brow, waiting. 

“asriel is unstable. dangerous. i know him and pap get up to shit, they're friends somehow. but before all of this, before we got out? he was bad, bad news. he hurt my brother, he hurt a lot of people, over and over again. just…be careful. i like you much more than i like him. and i also like to think people can be different, but…he had a whole lot of fucking chances.”

You nodded. “Ah…well, thank you. For real. We don't always see our friends clearly. Good looking out either way.”

Papyrus came back a few moments later, gently setting the box of butter on his brother's head and a carton of cream on yours, making you both grin as he went back to the table. 

The rest of breakfast was relaxed, and honestly delicious. Sans was a fantastic cook, when he found the energy to do it. He was animated and happy, a rare burst of energy as he chatted with you. 

“look, the conference is great. but they do these catered meals, and they've just been…ugh. alphys and undyne go out instead of eating at the hotel, and i didn't want to be a third wheel again. jokes on me, cause i, uh….kinda forgot you'd probably be over.”

You waved him off. “All good, you're fun to hang out with too. Even if you did scare the absolute shit out of me. So what happens if you teleport somewhere where someone already is? D&D rules? Do we both get shunted away and take 4d6 of damage?”

That made him and Papyrus both laugh. “oh god, not another nerd, no wonder you two are so perfect together. and nah. i can tell if something is directly there.”

Sans left after a while, wanting to see that day's speakers. Papyrus had spread the contents of the file Toriel provided across the kitchen table, glancing over everything. He wasn't looking for anything in particular, not yet. He was just…looking. Absorbing. Letting any nascent patterns percolate through his skull.

You hummed in interest. “Can I see this? Or should I go watch TV or something?”

He shook his head. “YOU'RE SO RESPECTFUL, THANK YOU. YOU CAN SEE. I'M NOT REALLY WORKING ON THIS, HER MAJESTY JUST KNOWS I HAVE A KNACK FOR THIS KIND OF THING, AND WANTS ME TO TAKE A LOOK TOO.”

Leaning over his shoulder, you read over some of them…then pointed at one. 

“So that's the earliest one, right? End of May?”

“YUP. MAY 31ST, THE DAY THE BARRIER FELL. IT WAS A MESSAGE FOR SURE.”

“Oh absolutely.” Falling silent, you read over everything with him. Toriel’s assistants had organized everything into neatly paperclipped stacks. Each was a dossier on that date’s fire, all the information they had available on it, and more recently, a copy of the arsonist’s online manifesto from that day. 

“What a fucking freak, they talk like a pastor or something. Maybe some crazy religious nut.”

“OR SOMEONE WHO WANTS TO BE PERCEIVED AS ONE. TO USE THAT TO GIVE THEMSELVES LEGITIMACY. THEY WANT TO BE A LEADER.”

When you glanced at him in curiosity , he shrugged. “I'M LEANING TOWARD FORENSICS AT COLLEGE. WE LEARNED A LOT IN THE GUARD, BUT NONE OF THAT MATTERS ON THE SURFACE. DEGREES ARE WHAT MATTER HERE.”

That made you scoff. “Which is stupid. If you already have the private education, that should be just as important. I bet a lot of Monsters are having that same issue, huh?”

He nodded absently. “YUP.” There was something just a little odd about the locations the arsonist chose, something more unifying than each of them being important to or made by Monsters. It was too random to be random. He just couldn't tell what the unifier was yet.

A few minutes passed as he rifled through some of the stacks, spreading out the papers and glancing over security footage stills, interview transcripts with other local business owners, and more. 

Another oddity. No one had seen the arsonist, no one had ever noticed anyone unusual in their area. Even Monsters with unusually keen senses or special vision, like a Gorgon over next to a restaurant that was hit, or a Dog living across from an apartment building that was unsuccessfully targeted, didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. 

When you made a little noise in your throat, he glanced up at you. You were frowning.

“GOLD FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?”

The cross-cultural idiom made you smile. “Oh, nothing probably.”

He waited. 

“It's just…well, all of these places? They were worked on by our office, or Atlantic's. All of them could kinda be related to public works, one way or another.”

Papyrus arched a brow, looking over it all again. “EVEN THE TWO HOUSES IN WEST END? AND THE APARTMENT BUILDINGS?”

“Section 8. Remodeled by us three years ago, after the landlords let them go to shit, we just reviewed them in June for buggies and all.”

“HUH. IT COULD BE A MESSAGE. STOP HELPING MONSTERS. STOP LETTING HUMAN RESOURCES BE USED FOR THEM.”

You pointed at another. “Even that corner store. There's state and federal funding for small businesses owned by minorities, and that picture looks pretty newly renovated. If Monsters owned it, they could have pulled a grant for repairs, and we would have been the office that helped place them with a contractor. Would be worth finding out.”

God he loved how smart you were. “NOW THAT IS VERY INTERESTING. LOTS OF PEOPLE ARE BIGOTS. BUT NOT ALL THOSE BIGOTS ARE SMART ENOUGH TO FIGURE OUT WHAT PLACES ARE ACTUALLY GETTING HELP FROM THE GOVERNMENT.” He used his foot to pull a chair over. “HOW MANY OF THESE PLACES DO YOU KNOW FOR SURE ARE SOMEHOW RELATED TO THAT, SPECIFICALLY? MONSTERS GETTING HELP FROM THE STATE, OR FROM YOUR OFFICE? AND DO YOU KNOW IF ANYONE AT YOUR DEPARTMENT HAS ANY BIG ENEMIES? ANY PROBLEMATIC CONNECTIONS?”

You sat down, thinking. Eventually, you'd pointed to twelve of the eighteen individual files. “These, absolutely. The other six I'm not so sure. And no…I can't really think of any of us with any sort of problems like that. There's only me, my director Katrynn, her assistant Garrett, the two draftsmen Khyana and Jared, and the two social workers Tina and Freddy…plus Roger in contracting and grant writing of course, but we share him with the environmental bureau.”

You hesitated, pointing at the earliest fire suspected to be connected to the arsonist, a small Monster-owned coffee shop in downtown Ebott that was targeted in early May. Luckily, the report said the owners actually had fireproofing spells already on the kitchen walls, so only the vinyl siding and wooden sign had burned. “This one though…this is weird.”

He was so glad he'd asked you about this. “HOW SO?”

“I remember this place, it's so weird that it's even in here. It was my very first project when I got a job in town, back in April. They needed to keep access to the back of the building for kitchen deliveries, but the lot next to them wanted an easement to build a parking garage, and tried to claim the alley as theirs. It was a mess.”

Just as Asgore had taught him, Papyrus stayed quiet and waited, letting you chew over your thoughts until they made sense. 

“That time stamp there, the fire was the night before, this picture was taken in the morning right? Look here-” you pointed at an open little metal door, barely visible in the corner of the picture. “That's a public water hookup. That's how we blocked the easement, said it was essential to keep access to the water site for county events and workers. Why is that just hanging open? They have special keys, you can probably technically buy them somewhere illegally but most normal people wouldn't know to.”

He raced ahead with your thought, seeing what you did. “IT SAYS HERE THERE WAS SECURITY FOOTAGE OF THE ALLEY AVAILABLE. IF IT WAS CLOSED THE DAY BEFORE, THEN OPEN THE DAY AFTER…”

You nodded grimly. “Maybe the evil little shithead accidentally burned themselves and needed to put it out. This was early on in their work, maybe they didn't have their technique down yet. And to just have that key on hand…”

“THEY COULD BE A COUNTY EMPLOYEE, OR A VOLUNTEER EVEN. SOMEONE WHO HAS KEYS AND ACCESS TO THINGS. WHY BUY ONE AHEAD OF TIME AS A REGULAR OLD CRIMINAL? ARSONISTS DON'T USUALLY WORRY ABOUT WATER.”

He leaned back, shaking his head. “WHAT A VERY INTERESTING THOUGHT.”

You grimaced. “Not to be the bearer of bad news…but if they have a water key, then they have utilities access too. All the same type of lock.”

Turning to press your hand to his lips, he cocked his head. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?”

“Sewer access…and gas line access. They could get around the city almost unseen down there. And the gas lines...that's the potential for one hell of a big fucking fire, right?”

“OH.” 

“WELL, SHIT.”

Chapter Text

The rest of September passed in a haze of affection and busyness, and soon Autumn was upon Ebott. Papyrus passed on all of his and your thoughts to Toriel, who promised to disburse the information to her own royal investigators and the human’s alike. You, Roger and Sans became such good friends that sometimes he just sat back and watched your antics as a group with a smile, pleased that his house was full of happiness. 

The arson attacks stopped; he knew better than to hope the person had been scared off, but he couldn't help his own optimism. It wasn't unheard of for a criminal to get spooked by their own actions, after all. And Asgore had ensured the news covered the death of the one food truck owner in detail, interviewing her family and showing the sadness and impact her loss was spreading through the community. Trying to make the person see the damage they'd done to one of their ‘own kind’.

Then came October…and with it, an increase to his schedule so severe that even the great Papyrus began to wonder if he truly didn't need to cut back somewhere. The royal family’s political schedule was in full swing, more than it had ever been in previous years, filled with parties and socials that demanded his presence until long past midnight. More often than not, he, Toriel, Asgore and Asriel would be left sitting exhausted in the middle of an empty ballroom or some such place, while Palace staff cleared away the remains of yet another event around them. Toriel still spent every morning teaching, and Asgore was deeply involved with Ebott University's agricultural program…it seemed like the prince was the only one of them to have any time or energy to spare for actually being royal. 

It was a choice fit to tear Papyrus asunder. The book shop was successful, in no small part thanks to him…but not so successful that they could afford a second salaried manager just to fill in the many gaps in his availability. But he could never turn his back on his king and queen, nor, if he was honest, was he willing to give up the prestige of his position. What had started as being essentially little more than a mascot for Monsterkind was now a globally recognized and important part of the world learning not to fear them…how could he ever leave it?

Darn you and your rotten little human wiles. You went to bed, and it was like a siren song calling him. Even on the rare times that he wasn't staying the night, he could tell when you fell asleep because he'd start yawning and feeling drained himself. Which was quite problematic on the many occasions that his ambassador duties called for him long after you sent him a final text good night, wishing him the best of luck with his work.

Seven or eight hours of annoying (lovely, precious, cuddly) sleep a day! Gah! Thank God you didn't live far from the Mountain entrance, but still.

-

It was his first free weekend in October, and Papyrus got a mischievous text late that Friday night. 

He'd been busy trying to grab you as you slid by him in his kitchen, hunting a snack after a county event went way past its planned end time, when his phone pinged.

Asriel, 10:34: You busy doing nasty shit to your girl or are we on tonight?

He winced, grimacing as he looked from his phone to your back. You weren't paying attention to him, trying to fish out a container of kimchi from behind Sans’ veritable pickle collection. His brother had been spending an awfully large amount of his time at Catty's, for all that he didn't talk about her much. 

10:34: She doesn't know???? I don't know how to tell her?!?!?! AHHHHH?!?!?

Asriel, 10:35: Figure it out, starts at 1130ish. Base 25k, couple new hot shots from up north. 

Oh, how to handle this. You weren't some blushing innocent creature, afterall; you'd partaken of your fair share of Sans’ nasty stinky human plant with him and Roger during some of your hangouts. But this…there was a layer of safety, sure. Just Asriel's presence was a buffer against any interfering law enforcement, not to mention Bratty's unique magical gift of making things simply…slip someone's mind. But still. Still.

Was it silly, that part of him didn't want to besmirch your opinion of him with this nasty little habit? 

Biting his lip, he turned to you. 

“SO…REMEMBER BACK IN AUGUST, YOU SAID SOME HOODLUMS WERE RACING PAST YOUR HOUSE?”

Crowing victoriously, you pulled the jar of kimchi free. “Aha! And yeah, it was funny as hell. Crap ass little cop puttering along behind them and all.” Like many people in town, your opinion of their police force wasn't stellar. They were heavy-handed with Monsters, and borderline unhelpful to humans. 

You smirked, scooping rice out of the rice cooker. “Honestly? Don't scold me for this, oh paragon of the law, but I think it's kinda cool I can't lie. They do it at night, so there aren't many people out and about to get squished…and I'll be honest, my dad got up to some similar stuff in his younger years, according to him. There's worse things people could do for fun.” 

“OH?”

Turning, you went up on your toes, rummaging in the cabinet…so you missed his growing grin. “And they were heading for the overpass, obviously, ain't nobody going for a walk on the highway once you get out of the city, so the only people they're really gonna hurt is themselves. I still wonder what their track was that night, probably…what, North thirty-fourth, up around the top of the city…hit the West freeway loop on exit ten, and back down into the capital area round the Mountain? Who knows.”

He nearly scoffed out loud in delight and surprise, how the hell had you guessed that? You were nearly dead on. 

“YOU LEARNED A LOT FROM YOUR DAD?” He slid up behind you, catching you up on your toes so he could hug you.

“Enough that I only go into the garage if it's something I can't do on a gravel driveway, or something I don't feel like buying the tools for, yeah. The basics, you know?” Falling back down to your heels, you tilted your head back to smile up at him. “Why, cutie? I know you're a car guy, but why the sudden interest?”

Well…it was now or never. He took a step back, sliding his hands down for a quick squeeze of your ass, before walking over to the garage. “DO YOU REMEMBER WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT THE FIRST CARS YOU SAW THAT NIGHT?”

Frowning, you sat the bag of sesame seeds you'd been looking for down, turning to face him. “Well yeah, they only did two laps I think but my street is well lit. The first one woke me up, I watched the second. It was sick, some modded little nine-eleven up front, and a Mustang behind it. Why baby?”

He flipped on the garage light, and, leaving the door open, walked over to the other side, where his car sat under a cover. “WELL…I JUST GOT INVITED TO SOMETHING…TONIGHT.” He flicked it off the hood, enough to show the obvious Porsche emblem and lights. “AND I FIGURED I SHOULD, UM, PROBABLY APOLOGIZE FOR WAKING YOU UP THAT TIME?”

Oh if he could have captured the look on your face forever. Confusion, as you took a few steps toward the garage door, to dawning realization, to an absolutely evil little smile. 

“Papyrus, Papyrus, Papyrus…I cannot fucking believe this. Except I absolutely can.”

He grinned as you walked over. “Haven't you heard, baby? This shit is illegal.”

“AH GOODNESS, WHO KNEW?” 

You traced a finger along the hood. “What was it new? Two hundred? Two-ten?”

Well now this just felt like bragging…but who could resist, when a pretty girl gazed up at you and gave you the chance to? “TWO FORTY IN THE CONVERTIBLE OPTION. MONSTER GOLD WAS BASICALLY UNCONTROLLED FOR OUR FIRST FEW YEARS OUTSIDE, SO WE WERE SELLING IT AT HUMAN VALUE ALL NAUGHTILY, AND I BOUGHT IT CASH FOUR YEARS AGO.” Then, because you were biting your lip and using that same finger to edge the fabric up over the side and back as you walked around and admired his favorite purchase he'd ever made, he added, “BUT WITH EVERYTHING WE'VE DONE TO IT SINCE THEN…JEEZ, I DON'T EVEN KNOW. ADD ANOTHER FIFTY ONTO THAT.”

You cocked a brow, popping the cover up over the back end and eyeing the exhaust. “Rich tastes for such a sweet guy.”

“WHAT CAN I SAY? I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF.”

You smirked at him, and he also couldn't help but notice that the back was the perfect height to bend you over, if you were wearing your heels from earlier…

“And I take it they're having one tonight?”

God he loved this connection between his magic and your Soul. You were hotly excited, thrilled and eager- it was the best confidence builder he could possibly ask for. “YUP.”

“What's the gate price?”

“TWENTY-FIVE.”

Whistling, you came over to stand in front of him, sliding your hands in his jeans pockets. “ Thousand? Damn…that's pretty intense. Catch me ever paying for dinner again. Alright, money-man, gonna go? ”

“...WELL, I MEAN…MAYBE…”

Your voice was a purr. “Gonna take your girlfriend?”

Oh absolutely. 

“GO PUT YOUR SHOES ON.”

-

The closer your hand crept across his thigh, the harder he gripped the steering wheel…and the wider his sharp, eager grin grew. Having you there was the cherry on top, the sugar on the rim; you were going to have to stop soon, or else he'd be walking into that crowd of strutting dipshits with an absolutely raging boner. 

But…you know. 

A minute or two more of your mischief couldn't hurt. 

When your delicate little pinky brushed his rock-hard length through his jeans, he hummed in his throat. Just glancing down was a treat, for you'd continued to get your nails done in various styles and shades of orange. Always matching him. 

“CAN I HELP YOU?”

Your voice was sin, completely at odds with the glibness of your actual words. “Oh no, I'm fine thanks…I'll let you know if I need help finding anything!” It was something you might have said a thousand times in the bookstore, only now you were purring it in your throat, and your hand was wrapped around his dick. 

He shook his head at your audacity, entertained and horny. 

After a few more minutes of playing, you released him and settled for admiring the inside of the car, grinning as he explained everything he and the others had done to it. 

That night’s meeting place was just ahead, a curve of the mountain road that had a large pull-off and overlook for tourists and sightseers and was crowded with watchers. As he parked, he turned to you seriously.

“STAY WITH BRATTY AND ASRIEL. YOU'LL LOVE HER, AND SHE CAN MAKE PROBLEMS GO AWAY LIKE NOBODY ELSE CAN. ASRIEL WILL KEEP YOU TWO SAFE. SOME OF THE PEOPLE WHO COME TO THESE ARE HOT, NASTY GARBAGE.”

You nodded. “I will.” Asriel was already pointing him over to the road, where other cars were lined up; he’d run a bit late, too busy making out with you in the garage.

About to slide out, you leaned over, kissed him chastely, and murmured, “Win for me, and I'll give you the best blow job of your dirty little life.” 

What more could a man ask for?

“DEAL.”

Bratty was fantastic company, draping her arm over your shoulders and towing you over to a small group of other Monsters. M.K. was there, a friend of Roger's that you'd met at an arcade once, along with Sans’ maybe-girlfriend Catty, a handful of others you didn't know…and Asriel. 

The prince was honestly a bit unnerving. He'd inherited his parents' snow white fur and red irises…but his were in a black sclera, not white. That single change, and the gold bull ring in his nose, was enough to make you think of Sans’ warning. But he was friendly enough, smiling at you with sharp teeth and promising that your man wouldn't disappoint you. He explained that it was a single lap that night, a long loop around the city outskirts, blending highways and tighter mountain roads, everything being watched with high-end drones and magic alike to ensure nobody cheated due to the higher than average buy-in. A wave of his hand showed a few people off to the side with laptops and controllers in their hands. “Ebott tourism department should be thanking us,” he said with a grin. “There's groups all along the route, watching. People come from up and down the coast.”

Then as he wandered off for a few minutes, Bratty started quizzing you about Papyrus, making you giggle as she wiggled her snout suggestively and passed you an innocent looking insulated cup of something that was dangerously sweet and alcoholic. “Monster booze!” she chirped cheerfully, swapping numbers with you. “I make it with my sister, and me n’ Catty sell it all secret-like. It'll fuck you up, in a good way. You'll never be sick the next morning, you'll never get barfy while you drink it, and if you're into that kind of thing it's super relaxing so it makes butt stu-”

“BRATTY!!!!” Catty and a Doe Monster slapped at her, horrified, as you tried your best not to choke laughing. 

About twenty minutes had passed, and you were sitting up on the back of a bench pleasantly buzzed while Catty chatted with some others, when Asriel came over to perch beside you.

“Mom said the tip about the municipal access key came from you. I wanted to say thanks. It opened a whole can of worms with the investigation, hopefully they find the little fucker. Or maybe they'll get caught in their own fire trap next time.”

You nodded, staring out at the city far below you. “They'd deserve it. They've tried to kill dozens and dozens of people. It wouldn't be a loss to the world if they weren't in it.”

He sniffed, crossing his arms. “Careful, your boney boyfriend wouldn't like that. He's all Batman and no Red Hood.”

“He's a good person, and he believes everybody can be a good person…I hope it's true.”

The sound of cars was getting closer; Asriel stood up, as Bratty, Catty, M.K., and the newly introduced Jewel the Doe and Seymore the…angular, geometric thing, came over to join you both. Look, sometimes Monsters were hard to understand! And you were feeling terribly giggly and excited for your man, crossing your fingers for him. The controllers with the drones had been calling out places the whole time; Papyrus and two others had vied for first since the halfway point, leaving the majority of the drivers far behind them thanks to the higher quality of their cars and their own driving skill. 

The lady at the laptop called an early first, a Porsche, with a WRX behind it and a nasty little Honda third, and the prince smirked. “Here we fucking go. Exactly as I expected.”

It made you laugh aloud in delight; Papyrus was undeniably the winner, a solid two seconds ahead of the next car and controlling his approach gracefully after rounding the final curve that was that night's ‘finish line’ with his engine rumbling beautifully. The first few humans and Monsters to come in after him were obviously experienced, and good sports about their losses. They shook his hand or first bumped him, then split off either to drive away to some other nighttime fun, or spend their time flirting with the assortment of men and women lingering around seemingly just to admire the drivers. 

Then the new ones started pulling up later and later. A few were so angry that they skidded into the gravel pull-off itself, kicking their doors open and screaming in outrage that someone must have cheated as they rounded on the drone pilots and the main woman surrounded by tech. One lost control and overshot his stop, hitting the guardrail on the overlook hard not thirty feet from where you all sat. You jumped, crying out in surprise as did Catty and Jewel, and Asriel rounded on the human the moment they got out. 

“That stupid mother fucker cheated, I couldn't even fucking-”

“Shut the fuck up.” The prince’s voice was a growl; he used his height, a comparable six and a half feet to Papyrus, to loom over the man. “You sucked, you lost, end of fucking story. Don't ever get that close to hitting the girls again, you idiot. You look like a piece of garbage, whining while everyone else took the loss and moved on.”

The man’s expression was so comically outraged that it made you grin; Bratty was outright giggling- Monster booze was dangerous, for it made you terribly carefree and brave. He rounded on the two of you.

“What's so fucking funny, huh? Little track sluts, waiting to suck dick for a few bucks.”

That made you laugh aloud- little did he know, you were minutes away from doing it for free!

“You! Your driving sucks, you stalled out literally at the beginning! And you lost your temper so easily that you probably just fucked up your radiator pulling in here, look, you're leaking fluid! That's pretty fucking funny!” 

His eyes bulged; they were red-rimmed and bloodshot, his pupils enormous. That made you wince back; an angry druggie was much more dangerous than a pissed off moron, and the fear of it cut through the drink a little.

“Yeah? You stupid bitch, I-”

A huge, white paw clamped onto the back of his neck, needle-tipped and curling claws extending to press around the front into his windpipe. “You're done. Get out or I'll beat the shit out of you. Don't come back here.” Asriel shook him roughly, his claws leaving indents in the human’s skin. “You're from where, Atlantic? I'll let Alfie over there know that he has a psycho who can't take a loss. You'll have to drive down the coast to Corner Point before you'll find anything half as rich as you had here, and it's your own fucking fault.” Asriel shoved the man toward his car. “Get the fuck out.”

A gentle hand wrapped around your waist; you smiled up at your boyfriend, who’d come over and was now staring at the other man with no expression whatsoever. 

“PROBLEM?”

The man fought Asriel's grip, doped up and brave with it as he stared at you. “Fat little cocksucker, do you really-”

The devil possessed you, you'd swear it. Or maybe it was your man's presence beside you, the safety he promised with every line of his body and every gentle whisper of what you maybe thought was his magic, or his Soul, at the back of your mind. You leaned into Papyrus, turning your face just a bit into his sweatshirt as you smirked at the raging man. And though you couldn't see it, your eyes were pure sex as you ran your tongue along your teeth.

“No problem at all, baby…didn't you hear? I'm just a cocksucker.”

And then you got to see the funniest, most gratifying thing you'd ever witnessed, as he laughed so low in his throat that it rumbled under your ear, and murmured, “WELL I SURE HOPE SO…AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE ONE THAT TOLD ME TO WIN FOR IT.”

…and the Monsters around you turned to Papyrus with such varying expressions of shock and delight that it was as if they'd never really seen him a day in his life. 

You didn't look away from the man though, staring at him from the corner of your eye and loving how he wilted in the face of your unoffended and united front. Oh god this was too fun, your man was so fucking fun. Faster in his mind than anyone you'd ever met, always effortlessly able to pick up on what you were doing and add to it. 

Asriel used his grip to force the sputtering idiot into his car, banging his head on the doorframe as he did. “Bye-bye, shit head. Don't come back now!”

He peeled out of the overlook, spraying gravel everywhere, and you finally got the chance to look up at your boyfriend as he grinned down at you. 

“I STAY AWAY FOR THIRTY SECONDS. TROUBLEMAKER!” There was nothing but hot affection in his scolding.

Asriel passed him a few rolls of cash, making you hum in surprise- nothing like seeing tens of thousands of dollars in person. “The rest as gold, per usual?”

Papyrus shrugged, winking down at you. “SURE. WHATEVER WORKS. SORRY, BUT WE DO HAVE SOMEWHERE ELSE TO BE.”

Seymore and Jewel guffawed, while Bratty winked at you. “Have a fun night , girlfriend!”

Catty, texting someone on her phone, waved. “You'll have the house to yourselves. A certain somebody has been walling himself up in his work again, it makes me jealous and bitchy.” 

“YOU CAN BORROW A CROWBAR IF YOU NEED ONE TO PRY HIM OUT. HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!” It wasn't that Papyrus was being rude, or even rushing. He was just… urgent. Every touch of his hands lingered, the way he used his arm around your shoulders to guide you over to his car while some person bolted the plate back on was insistent. 

God it felt good to be wanted. And you hoped, you prayed, he could feel how badly you wanted him, too. 

You were innocently sweet the entire way home, holding his hand and playing with his fingers as you told him about the other's antics, and he swore it made him burn hotter than if you'd been overtly coming on to him. Because he could feel your desire, could feel your pride, affection, and satisfaction in him, and the juxtaposition was delicious. 

Sans sent him a quick text as he backed into the garage- 

12:48: won't be home 2nite, c's being a bitch

-and he smirked as he put his phone away. Good. His brother needed Catty to be the nastiest bitch she could be; anything to break him out of his bleakness.

You stopped to grab a wine cooler from the fridge as you danced out of his reach, sliding through the door to the house before he could catch you. “Asriel said Queen Toriel is having a party at her house for her birthday next weekend and invited us, apparently she specifically said she doesn't want it to be anything fancy. Just a fun board game party and a potluck. We should go shopping for a gift, wanna go tomorrow morning? I know you have a thing later on.”

That was nice. Good for her and all that... 

Oh hell, it was hopeless. He could literally only focus on one thing right now, and a huge reason for that was how your lipstick glittered so temptingly as you bit your lip and glanced back at him, waltzing through the kitchen and pretending like both of you weren't thinking about the same thing. 

“UH HUH. SURE. YUP. GIFT. REMIND ME TOMORROW.”

With a few quick steps, he caught you up against the counter from behind, crowding you in with his body and pressing against the curve of your ass. “PISSING OFF THAT GUY, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING BUNNY…” He muttered the words against your skin, dragging his teeth across the back of your neck. The satisfied hum in your throat wasn't very chastised at all, nor was the way you rocked your hips back into him, grinding against his hard cock. “What can I say…I was feeling brave, knowing my boyfriend was there.” You slyly glanced up at him from the corner of your eye, your lips dropping open at the feel of him. “I'm so impressed by you, sweetheart…you know something? You might literally be one of the coolest people I've ever met.”

Lord. You couldn't have picked a better compliment if you'd tried. He laughed a little, blushing, and nuzzled into your hair. “HUSH.”

Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he pressed you forward a little harder into the counter, making you sigh with delight. He'd taken you more times than he could count now, driven by your pleasure and the feel of you day and night, and every lingering moment of desire still felt as fresh and hot and sharp as the first. 

And then, out of nowhere and to his slight embarrassment, Papyrus yawned so hard that his jaw cracked, hard enough that he had to turn his face away, unable to stop or hide it at all.

Your smile softened, as you twisted in his arms to face him. “Oh my poor man. You've had a long month…god, a long couple of months.” Boosting yourself up onto the counter, you reached out and drew him in, wrapping your arms and legs around him. “I don't know how you do it all.”

Sighing, he let his forehead fall to thud gently into your shoulder, running his fingers up and down your back. “NEITHER DO I, LATELY. AND I DON'T LIKE ANY OF MY OPTIONS FOR FIXING THAT.”

Your hands felt so nice, his simmering horniness mixing with the comfort of your touch; a warm and dangerously soothing sensation as you slipped your fingers up his sleeves and traced the bones of his arms.

“....WOULD YOU BE UPSET WITH ME IF I ASKED FOR A RAINCHECK FOR-” he swept his hands down your body, pulling you forward a tiny bit suggestively “-ALL OF THIS? I WANT TO, I PROMISE, I JUST…YOU KNOW.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head, then tilted your cheek to rest against him as he hid in your shoulder. “I'd never be upset with you for that either way. My handsome man, tonight was sexy as hell…but I'll survive, somehow. I promise.” Your voice was playful and sweet, calming his worry. 

“THANK YOU.”

It was amazing how comfortable it was, to hold you and curl around you like this. He yawned again, shifting to tuck you under his chin.

“Why don't we go lay down honey?”

“WHAT ABOUT CHEESE? DO YOU WANNA BRING HIM OVER HERE LIKE LAST TIME? HE IS A FANTASTIC SNUGGLER.”

Grinning, you shook your head. “Jax has fallen in love. Roger says the two are inseparable. And he is technically half Roger's dog, as much as I hate sharing custody of my fuzzy son. We got him together after all.”

Papyrus chuckled. “I’M GETTING QUITE JEALOUS MYSELF! I AM TERRIBLY FOND OF SURFACE DOGS, I'VE DISCOVERED. SANS HAS CONSIDERED GETTING ONE, BUT…YOU KNOW, I THINK HE'S SECRETLY BEEN APARTMENT HUNTING. SO I BET HE'S HOLDING OFF UNTIL HE'S SURE HE CAN KEEP IT.”

You smiled warmly, leaning back to meet his eye. “You two are good brothers. My sister and I get along like lye and water, I could never live with her…and yet here he is, afraid to upset his baby bro by moving out.”

“HE'S SENTIMENTAL. HE JUST DOESN'T WANT ANYONE TO KNOW HOW MUCH HE CARES. BUT I'M SURE A CERTAIN LADY IS HELPING MOTIVATE HIM TOO…”

“Catty is good for him.” You yawned yourself. “She's way, way smarter than she lets on, I learned that tonight just in that short amount of time. And she's bossy. He's been brighter since he's been seeing her more.”

He scooped you off the counter easily, hitching you up in his arms and carrying you into his bedroom just for the fun of your eternal surprise at it. Once there, he sat you down on your feet gently, then collapsed into bed, pressing his palms to his eyes. Much like a human's could (as he'd learned from you) his ached from overuse, the heat of his magic making the sockets sore and sensitive. 

“TAKE OFF THAT SCRATCHY SHIRT AND COME HERE SO I CAN SNUGGLE YOU.”

You wandered over, leaning in to smooch his shoulder as you smiled down at him. “Let me take my makeup off and all, and uncrunch my hair, I know you hate the texture of hairspray.”

“EW YES PLEASE NEVER MIND SHOO.”

Chortling, you walked out of his bedroom, and Papyrus stared at the ceiling, squirming out of his sweatshirt and jeans. What if Sans moved out, as he seemed to be considering? It's not like he'd be terribly offended or anything. But he'd never questioned his brother about future plans before, specifically because Sans was, honestly, a bit fragile. Not just his health, but…well. 

There was only so much one person could take.

As Frisk got older, they and Sans had had some long, long conversations over the years. His brother didn't often look comforted by them, but there was some type of closure he eventually found…and Papyrus would be forever grateful that the young human was so patient with the older Skeleton, so infinitely patient. 

How different the two of them were, brothers in Soul but not at all in mind. The things Sans could not accept, were the very same things Papyrus passed over easily with a shrug. Why agonize over what was already done? Only once, one single time early in their freedom, had he heard his brother drunkenly raving, nearly screaming at Alphys as she dragged him through their front door about games, about fake, about time and time and fucking time again…

Sans had never spoken so much as a single word in Papyrus's presence about it ever again, as if shielding his baby brother from something he shouldn't have to know. He didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. Let Sans believe what he needed to. 

Papyrus and Frisk had their own talks, afterall. And Papyrus and Asriel…

Well. Enough said.

As he heard the water start to run in his bathroom, bizarrely, he thought of Gaster too. How he'd once been married, once had a woman he'd loved as fiercely and desperately as he did all other things in his life. How, before things got worse and worse, before the barrier soured past the point of return, he must have been in a similar place as Papyrus at least in some way. Laying in bed, listening to the sounds of another person's footfalls in his house, the clinking water noises of a woman puttering around at night. 

He and Sans had tried to reconnect with their estranged sister-in-law, nearly two decades after she and their brother separated, and thirteen years after his death. They'd gone to her some months after the barrier fell. She, like many other older Monsters, had refused to come to the surface, remaining in her capital estate. She'd also refused to see either brother, completely unwilling to even look at them. Had she remembered? Had being near Gaster changed her so thoroughly, that even the barrier couldn't win? He couldn't imagine the loss, if so.

Her assistant had shown them to the gate of her property, her voice quiet and demure. 

“She grieves him. Has never stopped grieving him...and you are but reminders of her loss. Please be on your way.”

“OH GASTER,” he whispered, feeling closer to his barely-remembered brother than he ever had in his life before. “I'M SO SORRY.”

You came back into the bedroom naked save for a tshirt, yawning, and crawled into bed beside him after plugging in both phones to charge. He could barely keep his eyes open, so suddenly swamped with the exhaustion of the past months was he. 

“GOODNIGHT, BUNNY.”

Smiling, you answered with the rhyme that had become a little ‘thing’ between the two of you, “Goodnight, honey.”

Dozing off curled up together and drawing each other into sleep, neither of you felt the ghost presence, the real-notreal specter, that tucked the blanket up a little more firmly around your snuggling forms. That smoothed your hair gently away from your face, and brushed its brother's forehead with infinite care. 

And then, as reality demanded, it was gone. 

Chapter Text

Miserably, you were called into work the next morning to finalize some drafts, making you grumble; it was a lovely fall morning, perfect for snuggling and sleeping in.

Yet what had woken you shrilly from your boyfriend's sleeping, snuggling embrace? A nasty, evil phone call for some last minute project approvals that your director didn't feel like doing herself. And why did the county need the shit at nine in the morning on a Saturday? Who fuckin’ knew. Papyrus scarcely moved when you extricated yourself from his arms, content to snooze away.

The joys of internships.

-

Evening came, finally; you'd been in at the county office way longer than you'd wanted to, placating three board members who’d snuck themselves into the schedule and were whining about codes and property use. Papyrus had gone out around two for a music festival he'd been voluntold to help at, not that he minded- almost all the Monster performers and many of the human ones knew him apparently, and his sporadic texts throughout the night were gleeful.

Papyrus! ;>, 3:31: OMS METTATON IS HERE! HE SAYS HI! AND THAT YOU HAVE A CUTE ASS, BUT NOT TO TELL YOU THAT HE SAID THAT 

Papyrus! ;>, 4:58: DO YOU KNOW HOW TO DANCE? I WANT TO GO DANCING WITH YOU! I'LL EITHER PICK IT UP QUICKLY AND WITH GREAT SKILL

Papyrus! ;>, 4:59: OR BREAK YOUR DELICATE LITTLE HUMAN TOES 

Papyrus! ;>, 6:20: I MISS YOU. THINGS ARE SO MUCH MORE FUN WHEN YOU'RE THERE TOO.

That last one had made you light-hearted and giddy; he was just so sweet. So kind and loving- and wasn't that a dangerous word to think of, after a few scant months together?  But god, god! In a world where so many men seemed nearly terrified to show affection, or almost any emotion really, here came Papyrus, wearing his Soul on his sleeve and every feeling on his face. Not innocent, or naive really, but…wholesome. Virtuous. 

Arriving home after finally getting rather stern with your Director over email about salaried overtime, you gave yourself over to snacks and comfy clothing, waiting as the sun set for your man to return.

Now you snorted, giggling hysterically; you couldn't help it. Your sweet, handsome boyfriend had recently discovered a new clothing store downtown and had apparently fleshed out his crop top collection to what you could only assume was its final form- dozens. You hadn't seen most of them. Now he pranced through your house in his new favorite one, holding Cheezit in his arms like a baby and dripping in kandi after spending the afternoon and evening working the medical tent. At least someone got to have fun today- he'd just gotten home to your place, and was full of cheer and energy. 

“OH HELLO MOST BEAUTIFUL LOVELY GIRLFRIEND OF MINE.”

Giggling, you waved at him from your couch, lazing in your jammies after a long day of dull, droning meetings that certainly hadn't needed you. He was eye-smarting in a florescent pink and blue paisley ‘peace’ top paired with white jeans and blue sneakers; as he waltzed your absolutely enamored dog by and dipped him so he could give a little lick to your cheek, you reached out to snag his waistband.

“Hello there, most handsomest men in my life!” You yawned, muting the Edwardian romance show you'd been vegetating in front of. “How was the festival?”

“FUN! I CARRIED LOTS OF PEOPLE ON DRUGS TO THE MEDICAL TENT, AND GOT TONS OF FREE BRACELETS, AND CROWDSURFED FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE! AND THEN I CRIED SO HARD AT A FOLK SONG THAT I BARFED A LITTLE! EXCEPT….WAIT, NO THAT ISN'T MANLY OR SEXY AT ALL, FORGET THAT PART.”

Grinning, you propped your chin on your hand, watching as he gently sat your dog down in his living room bed and trotted over to you, kicking off his shoes as he did. “I…didn't know you could throw up, actually.”

He gave you a thumbs up, his other hand propped on his waist. “WEEEEEEELL TECHNICALLY WE CAN'T. WE JUST GAG AND RETCH A LOT AND IT'S AWFUL. BUT ALSO VERY HUMANIZING, I FEEL LIKE I KNOW YOU BETTER NOW!” Oh to have a tenth of the self-confidence Papyrus did, living a completely and utterly unbothered life. In his lane. Barfing and flourishing. He leaned down, kissed you loudly on the cheek, then wandered back off into the kitchen to fish around in the freezer. “DO YOU WANT A POPSICLE?”

“Sure! Man, I really wanted to go to the store today, I'm excited for the Queen's birthday…and the fact that she invited me too after the last time she saw me…stupid job. I got home and passed out on the couch, no energy since I woke up.”

Yawning again and stretching, you missed Papyrus as he grinned lopsidedly at you, eyeballing a green popsicle for a moment before putting it back in to get an orange one instead. 

What could he say? It would be hot to watch- the night's socializing and excitement had left him snuggly and missing you. He handed the popsicle off to you and settled down in your armchair with a happy sigh, kicking the foot rest up and using his magic to swipe the remote out from under your thigh. You shot him a look, pouting. “Stinky! I was watching something.”

He cocked a brow, hitting ‘play’. “OH? WHAT IS IT?” Unwrapping the popsicle, you innocently sucked the little bit of melted juice off the end. “Just watch! I think you'll really like it. All fainting and bodice ripping and romantic longing stares.”

Papyrus nodded slyly, settling in for a nice evening of ignoring the show and watching his beautiful girlfriend tongue the tip of an orange rocket pop…which ended an hour later with him instead curled up next to you on the couch, yelling in outrage at how the Duke of Granté could possibly have been so rude to the young noblewoman he was courting?! Your mournful shake of the head only inflamed him further; when you turned your phone toward him, it was to show a blog post titled “Ten Times Jonathan Betrayed Bernice, And The One Time It Mattered The Most”.

“TEN?! TEN TIMES?! UGH WHY WOULD SHE BE WITH HIM?”

He flopped over onto his back with his head in your lap, snuggling down  into your thighs and dramatically throwing his hand across his forehead like a fainting lady. “THE HORROR OF IT.”

You began doodling little patterns across his features as the credits rolled. It felt so lovely that he couldn't help but hum happily, pulling several of his new bead bracelets off and looping them onto your wrists instead. He nearly grabbed one that said ‘love’ and another that said ‘I love you!’ before inwardly cringing; no need to open that can of worms with a cheap plastic present. 

Humans were funny about saying such things, after all.

Your touch wandered mindlessly as you switched to a calm cooking show, tickling down his ribs through his shirt and down to the hollow of his belly, sliding up under his short top to run your fingertips in circles on the curve of his spine. He shivered a little, sensitive, and turned his head to watch lazily as the people on the screen talked about the history of some culture or another's food. It felt so good to have your hands on him; a soft, undemanding pleasure from the sensation of your skin as you slid your fingertips slowly back and forth through the gaps of his backbone. The magic there swirled invisibly with your touch like little eddies in a creek, following your skin and clinging to you; an extension and expression of his affection made manifest. When your touch dropped to a lower vertebra, and then another…and another… he took a deep breath, his eyes falling half closed. He wasn't sure if you meant to be tantalizing; a peek up at your face told him you were absolutely taken by the show playing, so no. It was just a mindless, affectionate touch.

Smiling, he relaxed into it. It wasn't an insistent feeling, after all. Just warm and lovely. 

He fell asleep like that for a time, snuggled into your lap. When he woke again, it was to the dimly-rotating Netflix menu and your soft, sleeping breaths. You'd slouched down against the arm of the couch rather than disturb him, your back curved at an awkward angle. 

Well that wouldn't do. He sat up slowly, stretched, and pulled off his shirt before scooping you up as he stood. It said something to your trust (or maybe just your sleepiness) that you only murmured, turning your face into his chest as he carried you to bed. Cheese watched him pass, his tail thumping sleepily, uninterested in leaving his comfy, overstuffed bed. He toed your bedroom door open and laid you down; you cracked an eye open, sleepily reaching for him. 

“Mmm…’aby?” He smiled in answer, feeling a little giddy at the way you squirmed under the blankets and turned them open for him. Would he ever get used to this? Crawling in beside you after he stripped off his jeans, he thought to himself how much he loved that you immediately threw a leg over his as you hugged him.

He'd been using that word a lot more to himself recently, in relation to you. He loved how sweet you were with him. He loved your laugh, and the way you admired him so sincerely. 

…something to ponder in the morning. 

As you turned over, stretched against him, and nestled down under the comforter with your booty comfortably nestled against his pelvis, you murmured, “Wanna go shopping for the Queen's birthday present tomorrow?”

He nodded, relaxing into the pillows and yawning hugely as he squeezed your hip. “SURE!”

Making a faint, happy noise, you pulled his arm across your waist, hugging his hand to your heart and pressing a gentle kiss there. “...kay. Night.”

-

The next morning dawned beautiful and warm for early October. The two of you left in the afternoon after sleeping in late, parking in a public lot on the ‘Monster side’ of town and going for lunch at a Spider Cafe at Papyrus's insistence.

What could he say? They pulled the best espresso in town.

Once you overcame your initial fear of them, you giggled to the point of breathlessness as the little fuzzy Spiderlings bounced and surged around your feet, groups of five or six working together to carry plates of pastries, sandwiches, and soups out to each table. They were immensely flattered when you showed them a clip on YouTube of a human movie called Spirited Away, comparing their cuteness to the magical soot sprites that every human who watched the movie apparently adored. 

Papyrus looked on, his chin propped in his hand, as you tore strips off the paper placemat and showed them all how to fold little paper stars like the creatures had loved in the movie. Of course they took to it immediately, eight legs being immensely more efficient at folding origami than just two hands. Soon, one of the larger Spiders came out to see where her staff had gone, only to be greeted by a shower of paper stars and a roiling carpet of giggling Spiderlings. 

A sunbeam came through the window, warm and noon-gold, glimmering on your hair. You were laughing as the chuckling, violet-furred head cook tried unsuccessfully to scoop up armfuls of her silly, squirming little staff members. “My daughterssss,” she whispered in her sibilant voice, her fangs chiming together musically like crystal as she spoke. “Silliessss, all of them…but sssso very talented, yesss?” Using a free hand, she pointed at one of the pastries on the table.

Taking a bite of the little pumpkin and cheese tart, you nodded immediately. “Oh wow, yes! You all made these? It's delicious!”

A tiny yet raucous cheer went up from the crowd of little Monsters, making you snort through a mouthful of crumbs. As you covered your mouth and coughed, waving off the cook as she watched with a bit of worry, Papyrus caught himself smiling like a loon. Stars and starlight, you were so beautiful. Laughing and full of happiness with his people, your lap now filled with paper stars as more and more were tossed up from the crowd around your feet while they all followed their mother back into the kitchen. Carefully, you dumped the paper stars into your purse, reaching up to brush your hair out of your eye. Something peeped; both of you jumped as a final, naughty Spiderling leapt off the top of your head, skidded across the tablecloth, and bounced across the floor to follow her siblings.

Your smile was radiant as you giggled. “That was the cutest thing I have ever seen oh my goodness.” 

Papyrus had texted Asriel for present ideas earlier; now his phone buzzed.

Asriel, 1:05pm: She's been super into art recently. Pastels, watercolors, all of it. Like the fancy stuff, you know?

Humming, Papyrus glanced back up at you as you took another bite of the pastry in your hand. “I’M GLAD YOU THINK SO! LOTS OF HUMANS ARE SCARED…BUT NOT ALL OF THEM!” His broad gesture took in the cafe. On the other side of the room, two young human women huddled around a third who was red-eyed and sobbing, clutching a hot chocolate like it was her last link to life itself. Perched on her shaking head and shoulders, a handful of Spiderlings were furiously adding their tiny, piping voices to the other two girls’, all of them telling her that she could do better than whatever jerk had broken her heart that morning. Three were working together to braid her hair back from her face.

Gazing at the scene, you smiled softly. “It's so…nice. And so sad, that it could have been this way for so long, and wasn't.” 

What could he say to that? He took your hand across the table, playing with your fingers and comparing the thin bones under the flesh there with his own as he squeezed them gently. 

Then the bell rang over the door, making both of you glance over-

“WELL WELL WELL, look at these BIG OL’ NERDS.”

Undyne rolled into the delicate, lovely cafe like a water buffalo in an art gallery, physically displacing the peaceful afternoon vibe and replacing it with something bold and bright. Alphys trotted in behind her, tapping away at her phone, along with two other Monsters that Papyrus didn't recognize on sight, both of them vaguely-geometric beings made seemingly of two-dimensional animated lines and dots, wearing matching blue dresses. 

“Undyne! Alphys!” You stood, grinning, and started to drag another table over to fit against the one you were both at. “Come sit with us!”

Alphys waved. “I-I'll get d-drinks. The usual?” She looked to the two Monsters with them, who both nodded. You gasped as some of the lines that made up their forms wiggled and misplaced themselves, forming words above their ‘heads’. 

“Caramel latte!”

“Starseed tea!”

Undyne smirked at you. “Runesights. Neat, huh?”

Nodding fervently, you used your toes to drag another chair over. “Yes!” When the two turned at their mention, you gestured to the table. “Hi! Welcome! You're so cool!”

Both of them raised an identical hand to where the ‘lips’ would be on a more easily-read humanoid Monster, giggling silently. Papyrus could tell by how their shoulders shook daintily.

“So what are you two doing out and about? Lazing the day away?” Undyne straddled a chair, leaning in to steal one of his chips- he smacked her hand away, sliding the plate and his half-finished sandwich out of her reach. 

“ROYAL BIRTHDAY SHOPPING, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. A TRULY MOMENTOUS CHORE.”

One of Runesights had edged up to you, cocking her ‘head’. Words appeared above her after a moment's hesitation.

“ This is? Hair?” 

You blinked, then touched the top of your own hair. “Um, yes? I have hair.”

The other woman ‘smiled’, her entire form shifting to a slightly golden color to show her happiness. “I have never touched a human's! How it feels?”

Realization dawned on your face. Reaching up, you pulled the clip out that was keeping yours out of your face. “Ohhhhh, oh, here! Just don't pull it too hard, that would hurt.”

Above your head, Undyne shot Papyrus a dirty grin. He huffed out a breath, rolling his eyes and waving her off. 

The Runesight hesitated, then reached out, very carefully brushing just the tips of your hair. 

“Hurts?” 

You shook your head. “No no, only if you yanked it. You could pull it out. But it takes some effort so don't worry.”

And so Alphys came back to the table escorted by a troop of Spiderlings each carefully balancing a glass or mug on their backs, to find Undyne and Papyrus looking on as you showed the other women (Sing and Story, respectively) how you could twist it up into a bun, or clip it with a hair clip, or even tie it into a high ponytail.

“So interesting! Would like to learn how to design and pin and braid, like magazines and photos show. To open…salon.” 

One of them had reached out and was twirling a strand around a finger made of faintly-sketched shapes. You nodded. “You'd want to go to school for cosmetology then. I…well, I don't know if anywhere around here takes Monsters yet…but you could apprentice too, I think! My friend did it that way. You just have to find someone willing to teach you.”

Leaning down, you started taking cups from the little Monsters, setting them up on the table and reading off the small paper tag on each. “Okay, Undyne….Alphys, here. Sing, Story…that's everyone, thank you guys so much!” 

The Spiderlings peeped in reply, and bounced back across the floor. As they did, they parted around a young woman who was walking over, one of the two who'd been comforting their now ferociously-texting friend. 

“Hi…super weird of me, but I was listening to you guys like a creep? And um, I do hair over at First Look, on River Street? I started five years ago, so I can take an apprentice…and we are hiring.” Papyrus put a hand around your waist as you slid your chair over to sit next to him, watching as the two Monster sisters talked excitedly with the human woman. 

“ASRIEL SAYS THE QUEEN MIGHT LIKE ART THINGS. I WAS THINKING ONE OF US GETS STUFF, ONE OF US GETS CLASSES?”

Leaning in, you smooched him on the cheek. “Sounds like a great idea. Should it be human classes or Monster ones?”

He hummed, squeezing at your waist and admiring how his fingertips sank into the softness there through your shirt. “GOOD QUESTION. HMMMM…”

You pulled your phone out, searching online. He sat back, happy to look on as plans began to form between the sisters and their new human friend, and Undyne entertained a score of Spiderlings by tossing them gently into the air, letting them drift back down on silk parachutes as they peeped, “Weeeeeee!”

“Here. A painter right outside of Ebott. She takes private students, and she has Monster models in her portfolio.”

He nodded, looking over the website you'd found. “MAYBE CALL HER? JUST IN CASE.”

“Good idea.” 

After half an hour or so of conversation and a quick phone call to confirm the art teacher's availability later, the two of you left, waving to the Runesight sisters. Alphys gave you a gentle hug, while Undyne did her best to throw Papyrus out the door (a delicately cleared throat from the kitchen doorway cut that plan off, much to his chagrin). 

Then the two of you wandered the Monster-side of downtown, stopping for a bit to feed the geese and ducks along the river. Papyrus immediately made friends with a large, gray goose, who ended up curled on his lap with her head under her wing, sound asleep. Then he led you to dawdle along the benches overlooking one of the many riverside gardens, carrying his goose friend along as she watched her surroundings with regal attentiveness and did her best to nip your fingers every time you tried to pet her silky back. Finally, he set her down in a patch of clover, patting her gently, before pointing down a street the two of you had come up to. 

“ARTIST’S ALLEY! NEVER BE SAID THAT MONSTERS DON’T USE ACCESSIBLE NAMING SYSTEMS! MOST THINGS HERE WILL BE HANDMADE BY US, SO IT SHOULD ALL BE REALLY NICE FOR HER MAJESTY.” 

You smiled up at him, linking your arm with his; it nearly made him laugh aloud in delight. All day, Monster passersby had paused, or blinked, or straight up stared at him as he walked hand-in-hand with you. Most followed that up with a huge grin, or a thumbs up. His people were happy for him. Happy to see him with a lady who was so obviously enamored of him. 

He couldn't help himself. As you puttered around one shop that sold handmade pottery glazes and oil paints, he slipped into the next, where the daughter of the Snowed Inn owners shared a shop with some other artisans and sold her handmade jewelry. 

She bounced up to him, hugging him tight as he exclaimed over her. “I THINK YOU HAVE GOTTEN TWICE AS TALL SINCE LAST YEAR! TALLER THAN YOUR BROTHERS, THAT'S FOR SURE!”

She grinned, the picture of mischief, her fur fluffed prettily around her neck and paws. “I should hope so! They're barely thirteen!”

He stepped away a bit to look over the things she had on display, nodding. “BUT THEY SHOT UP LIKE WEEDS SINCE YOU ALL MOVED UP HERE!” A necklace immediately caught his eye; a fire opal, orange and rainbow-sparkling, set into a gold sunburst. It was elegant without being overly small or too large, on a longer chain that would sit beautifully under your collarbones. 

“HOW MUCH FOR THIS?”

She cocked a brow, her ears perking. “For you? A thousand gold. It's eighteen karat, and that's a Waterfall opal. Or if you wanna pay in human money, nine-hundred and fifty.”

He frowned, picking it up to examine it closer. “THAT'S UNDERPRICED, FOR A WATERFALL OPAL.”

Shrugging, she leaned on the counter, crossing her paws neatly. “Well I doubt you're buying it for you. And word on the street is you have a new girlfriend, soooooo…” With a wink, she pushed herself upright again and began putting together a little bag and jewelry box. “Consider it a neighborly discount. You can pay me back by telling everyone about me.”

Papyrus rolled his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face. “FINE, FINE. I SUPPOSE I WAS A MOST AWESOME NEIGHBOR, AFTER ALL. I SHOVELED THE SNOW OFF YOUR ROOF EVERY NIGHT! WE CAN CONSIDER THINGS EVEN.”

He left the shop a few minutes later after helping her finish that day's word search from the newspaper, hiding the pretty little paper bag and its contents in his sweatshirt pocket. When he snuck back into the paint store you were exactly where he'd left you, talking animatedly to the two human and Tanuki owners you'd been chatting with when he slipped out. 

He browsed, not wanting to interrupt, and soon got engrossed in a catalog of house paints that could magically shift according to the time, what visitors were there, or even by the color of one’s outfit or mood. Their house was the same stark white that it was when he and Sans bought it five years ago, and he'd considered painting it several times, hmmm…

Warm arms wrapped around him from behind, making him blink out of his reverie. 

“Hi!” 

Sliding his fingers into yours, smiling, he turned; you had a large shopping bag over your elbow, and another leaning against the front counter with a table easel and canvases. 

“Grant there says this is everything someone would need to get started with seriously trying oil paints. Some of the colors are beautiful, so unique! Wanna take stuff home?” 

Papyrus narrowed his eyes. “NOW WAIT ONE HECKING SECOND. I THOUGHT I WAS GETTING THE FANCY PAINTING FLUFFIES AND YOU WERE GETTING THE CLASSES?”

You flapped a hand at him, grinning. “Well you went off to do something, and these lovely boys-” the two behind the counter grinned “-were just so persuasive! You can make it up to me with dinner or something.”

That made him pause for a moment, thinking quickly. That new Italian place…the one he hadn't gotten to take you to…

“PERHAPS WE SHOULD TAKE THESE THINGS HOME, AND RELEASE THE CHEESE DEMON FROM CAPTIVITY FOR A TIME…AND THEN I SHALL INDEED MAKE IT UP TO YOU WITH DINNER!” He waved over your head at the two grinning shop owners, then looped his arm over your shoulders. “LET'S GO!”

-

Dinner was delicious, and made all the more wonderful by how lovely you looked in a long black dress, the material so soft and flowing that Papyrus half wanted to just carry you around like a teddy bear. He wasn't a huge drinker himself, but he tried your wine as you ordered a few different glasses; even he had to admit they were delicious choices, complimenting the acidity of the sauces and the heaviness of the pasta and cheese. You'd opted for butternut squash tortellini as a main, giggling at their bright orange color as he looked on bemused. 

That finished, the two of you contentedly wandered back along the river strip of shops, Papyrus stopping to buy you both gelato, then you a fresh lemonade when you pointed at the stand imperiously. It was a beautiful night, warm for autumn and perfect for an evening walk. A hazy flush was in your cheeks and chest from good wine and better food; you were snuggly and sweet as you held his arm, occasionally tilting your head up for kisses as he animatedly explained the backstory of the newest Gundam he'd bought.

All in all? It was perfect. He wished every night could be like this, spent making you happy and earning your generous affection. The necklace he bought earlier was a nice weight in his pocket, waiting for the right moment to give it to you as a little present.

It was just about nine at night, and most of the little boutique stores were beginning to close, leaving the particular street the two of you were walking on quiet and comfortable. Many Monsters were nocturnal, but this area was indisputably more geared toward tourists- a few stores stayed open later or were just opening now, but they were a minority. It made for a peaceful place to wander and look at the river.

You'd stepped away to admire the water for a moment when a shopkeeper who recognized Papyrus waved him over with a smile, giving him a hug and asking how he was. He racked his mind for the Cat’s name and came up short, but she didn't seem to mind, chattering away about this and that on the surface for a few minutes with him. She had her purse on her arm, seemingly ready to leave for the night.

A raised voice behind him on the street made him turn, glancing around sharply as the store owner prattled on about this and that. A human man, greasy and pale with dark circles under his eyes, had lurched up to you. He was wearing stained jeans and a huge, thick and puffy black winter coat…it made Papyrus frown. It was barely cool outside, why would…?

Bidding the woman a hasty goodbye as she walked to her car, he trotted over just as you took a step back, your voice overly-friendly and appeasing. “No, thank you. I'm taken. Very flattering though! I hope you have a nice night.” You turned and found Papyrus's eye, and the fake smile you'd been wearing fell instantly from your lips as you mouthed, “Help?”

The human man smiled unappealingly, his teeth yellow and stained. “Aw come on baby, I know a real nice-” 

Then he paused, doing a double-take at Papyrus, who'd had his hood up. 

“...oh. Wait. You're with one of those fucking freaks?”

Even from there, Papyrus could smell liquor on his breath. The polite smile fell from your face like silk slipping off glass. “ Excuse me?”

The man swayed in place, visibly sloshed to the point of barely standing. “What, real men not good enough for you? Gotta fuck these goddamned monsters?”

You stepped a bit closer to the drunk, your eyes furious. "Yeah, you know maybe I am sick of human guys! Maybe I dated a bunch and you all sucked, so I'm trying someone totally new. Piss off. Let's go, babe."  

The man scoffed, sneering as he flipped you off. He turned to stagger off the sidewalk and away for a few moments before stopping in the middle of the road. Papyrus frowned, putting an arm around you protectively. The whole encounter was odd…something wasn't right here. Humans could come and go freely in Monster areas, but generally a man with this type of personality wouldn't really be drawn to them in the first place; every house and business’s magical charms for peace, protection and prosperity would be subtly driving him off. It took serious willpower and grit to ignore them…and for what? It was nine o’clock at night, most human-aligned stores were closed or closing, so he couldn't be out shopping. It would be way too hot for a human to go for a walk of any distance in the thick coat he was wearing. No Monster bar would let him get this belligerently drunk. And he highly doubted the out-of-control ass was visiting someone local, judging by his expressed opinion of Monsters just moments before. 

So why was he here?

As you rolled your eyes and drew Papyrus back a few steps, the other man's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wavered, glancing up and down the street.  Papyrus stared at him hard, squinting…now that he looked closer, there was something wrong about the shape of his figure. A weird angle jutted out over his chest, even with the thick coat to pad it. "Fine. Fine! You're a weird fucking bitch, you know that? Might as well fuck an animal, or a dead body, it's disgusting, little-" 

You tugged at his arm, ignoring the drunk's tirade. “Come on, let's go…he's unhinged.”

Papyrus was, by nature, a patient, light-hearted person. But he wasn't immune to every insult…nor was he blind to the human's odd posture, or the way he started to quickly unzip his coat as he yelled.

"THAT WAS A VERY RUDE THING HE SAID TO YOU, JUST NOW.”  Orange magic began to gather around his hands and eyes. Then, like a flame being fed more oxygen as his instincts screamed at him, it started to darken, burning hotter and hotter until dark blue power licked in it as well. He sent it down into the ground. Waiting. “GET BEHIND ME, PLEASE. I HAVE CONCERNS.”

Your eyes went wide. “Honey…it's fine, I don't wanna risk anything with a psycho.”

He didn't disagree. But turning your backs on the drunk human would be even more dangerous than staying as you both were. He proved that a moment later as he raised his clenched fists up to his head, swore loudly…and then seemingly came to a decision and started walking back across the street toward sidewalk where both of you stood, reaching for something metallic under his now-open jacket that left an imprint on the cloth- something any human would recognize and fear.

"Wait, what- ohmygod No! Papyrus!" Your scream pierced the quiet nighttime street like a siren.

He knew it.

Papyrus snapped his fingers, and a familiar sound, the ultra-bass twang of his heightened magic, thrummed a single note under the echo of your voice. His power rushed up from under the would-be assailant's feet where he'd had sent it moments before in preparation. 

The man groaned as his sickly orange-green Soul, summoned forth by a single harsh rip of reality into an Encounter, turned dark blue and stone-heavy, dragging him down to the ground with it. He went to one knee, then both, his arms shaking while he used them to brace on the ground, his face almost pressed into it as the cheap gun he'd been pulling clattered uselessly out of his hand. A quickly summoned bone knocked it twenty feet away. 

Your eyes were enormous, white ringed the whole way around as you clutched his other arm. “Oh my god! Oh my god! What the fuck!?”

Honestly, Papyrus agreed with you. What the fuck?

“YOU'RE RUINING A REALLY NICE NIGHT, I HOPE YOU KNOW.”

The other man seethed, spitting his words through gritted teeth. “Go fuck yourself, you-”

“AND I SAW THE SHAPE UNDER YOUR JACKET. IT'S ILLEGAL TO CARRY FIREARMS IN MONSTER COUNTRY. HOW NAUGHTY OF YOU.”

He put just a little more power into his spell, his voice full of false cheer to cover how angry he was as the man tore up his fingernails and scuffed the toes of his shoes scrabbling at the rough pavement, trying to escape the vice-press of magic atop him. How dare this nasty person be here on his people's land, threatening his girlfriend, doing stars knew what other mischief before the two of you found him?!

“I'D BE CAREFUL, IF I WERE YOU! THAT THING, STUCK UNDER YOU AND DIGGING INTO YOUR MEATY CHEST? IT'S YOUR SOUL. MAYBE YOU'VE HEARD; WE CAN ATTACK IT DIRECTLY.”

Just to enforce the lesson, he struck the man's ugly little Soul one time with a bone roiling up through the pavement, ensuring that only the barest single point of HP was knocked off as he gently took his arm from your grip and stepped forward. Just as he'd seen again and again, instinctual fear of magical attack made the human cringe, trying and failing to get to his feet so he could run. When he couldn't manage to get his legs under him due to the sheer sudden weight of his body, he sniveled, his face going so pale that his lips were turning gray. "What the fuck are you doing?” There was a tremble in his words, a weakness born of old, human fear. “What is this?" 

Papyrus's voice was very cold. “I'VE MADE YOU HEAVIER.”

Behind him, you'd backed up further; good. 

The human was shaking, trying and failing to move again and again. “Y-you can't, Monsters can't use magic to attack hum-”

“MONSTERS CAN USE MAGIC IN SELF-DEFENSE. IN ADDITION, SINCE OBVIOUSLY YOU NEED THE LEGAL LESSON, DEPUTIZED GUARDS CAN USE FORCE TO APPREHEND A VIOLENT CRIMINAL…UP TO AND INCLUDING ACTING ON YOUR SOUL. WOULD YOU LIKE A BETTER DEMONSTRATION?"

You made a scared little noise; when Papyrus glanced over, you were staring at the gun in the middle of the road.

The drunken man was shaking his head, his back trembling as his elbows finally gave out against the overwhelming weight pressing him down. There was a sickening little crunch as his nose flattened into the pavement, and he cried out in pain. Something else crunched too, something in his clothing…in a few moments, a clear, chemically-stinking liquid began to spread out from underneath him, soaking through the front of the man's thick coat. “Augh! No! I'm, I-”

“YOU WERE ABOUT TO DRAW A GUN, BECAUSE SHE TURNED YOU DOWN POLITELY AND YOU WOULDN'T LISTEN. YOU HAVE A GUN IN MONSTER JURISDICTION, A FELONY ON ITS OWN. WHAT DO YOU THINK IS GOING TO HAPPEN HERE?”

Papyrus cast a quick glance around and sent a wash of his magic out in a visible orange sweep, like a single sonar ping; no other Souls were nearby save for those in their shops or the apartments above.  Some faces watched with fear at windows, others stood with various magics playing around their hands, warned by your scream. Waiting, to see if Papyrus needed help. But no humans, no passersby or accomplices. No one else was here to hurt you as you stood behind him, your face scared while your gaze switched between Papyrus, the man, and his killing weapon.

A door opened nearby on a dark clothing shop, and a Dustdevil motioned to you, urging you to come in and get away from the street. You glanced from her and back to Papyrus, plainly terrified for his safety. It almost made him smile. 

He nodded to you, telling you silently to go with the other Monster, and turned back to the pitiful sight before him once you took a few stumbling steps in the other woman's direction. “THIS IS AN ARREST, NOW. CONGRATULATIONS, MY FIRST ONE THIS YEAR! YOU'LL BE HELD AND TRIED BY MONSTER LAW.” Walking over, he flipped the man onto his back with his foot, his jacket flopping open around his summoned Soul as he wheezed from the sudden pressure on his chest…and paused. 

The bulk he'd seen, the odd shape of his chest…it hadn't been just a firearm. A very large, rectangular bottle of some clear, stinking chemical had been tucked into a big pocket roughly sewn inside the puffy fabric…along with a cheap tracfone attached to a soldered bundle of wires and other electronics that were seemingly attached to more within the stuffing of the coat itself. The bottle had burst open when Papyrus had pressed the man to the ground, soaking him completely. Now the whole collection fell free, the butchered electronics clattering to the ground and the popped bottle tumbling a few inches away from the man, its contents having thoroughly saturated his clothing and the asphalt around him. Papyrus glanced at the now-visible label, and swore under his breath. 

Motherfucker.

“...AND WHAT DOES A HUMAN NEED WITH THREE LITERS OF PAINT THINNER? OR ALL THESE LITTLE WIRES FOR THAT MATTER, WHAT'RE THOSE FOR?”

The drunk groaned, fighting to turn his head, his hands scrabbling for purchase. When Papyrus crouched beside him, grabbing and shaking the large, clear bottle in his face, the man laughed. His furious words were garbled by the pressure on his throat and chest, but still clear enough to be heard up and down the street.

“He's right! He's always been right. You people are a…a sickness, a disease. F-fucked up freaks of nature, an infection. We need to burn you out, need to-”

Papyrus put a bit more power into his spell, flattening the human to the road entirely as he started to choke; let the man spend his energy getting enough breath rather than running his bigoted little mouth. He took a picture of him, the gun across the street, and the bottle of chemicals with its accompanying mess of electronics, then called Undyne.

She answered on the first ring. “Heyyy, whats u-”

“I NEED YOU IN FRONT OF LOXLEY'S, ON FIFTH AND TRUMPET, RIGHT NOW. BRING DOGS. FOUND A FIREBUG.”

It took her but a moment to answer. “Shit. Shit. Alright. Gimme ten, the Dogs will probably get there first. There should be a patrol nearby.”

Now all he could do was wait, biding his time by putting up barriers of bright orange bones on either end of the road, making sure no cars could pull down that way. Periodically he lightened the pressure a bit on the man, lifting the heavy hand of gravity enough for him to take a few deeper breaths…he always wasted them by screaming and swearing as soon as he could, making the Skeleton roll his eyes. Keeping his mind’s focus on the human pinned by his magic like a bug to a board, he walked back down the street to you, hiding behind a doorway with the Dustdevil proprietress behind your shoulder. 

“ALL GOOD, NOT TO WORRY. HE WAS…WELL. HE WASN'T HERE TO DO ANYTHING GOOD.” 

You slung your arms around his waist, squeezing him hard. “Jesus christ , I…what if you hadn't seen, what if you…fuck, fuck!” There were tears in your eyes. 

The Dustdevil nodded up at him and moved back into her darkened shop with the soft, musical susurration of dried twigs and bits of gravel blowing over the tile floor. He hugged you close, slightly lifting his magic off the man in the street for a moment to allow for another few deep breaths. Of course he was immediately rewarded by screamed obscenities, the man's fear turning into purple-faced, spitting rage the longer time passed. 

You were crying, clinging to his jacket (one you'd gotten him, bright orange swirls on a purple background). He hated it; hated seeing you afraid, seeing you cry. It made him feel cold and ugly, made him want to press down so much harder on the man outside than he was. He'd barely put a drop of his magic into his Soul…would it really hurt to put a little more? To really give the ugly, fire-starting asshole something to scream about? 

…yes. Yes, it would hurt. Good people didn't do that. And above all, Papyrus wanted to be as good a person he could be. 

Still, the thought was tempting, as you clung to him and wept so hard you shook. A stiff breeze carried a low, padded stool across the tile floor; he guided you down into it, casting a grateful smile to the woman who'd sent it. 

“I'm s-sorry, this is ridiculous, I wasn't even in any danger! I don't know why I'm…I'm…”

Papyrus shook his head. “HUMANS CRY TO SHOW OTHER HUMANS SOMETHING IS WRONG, TO CALL FOR HELP. DON'T FEEL BAD. IT TAKES A LOT OF TRAINING TO NOT REACT WITH YOUR INSTINCTS!”

You sniffed, pulling a tissue from your purse and blotting under your eyes. “But you were fine! Completely clear headed, I…” 

A reedy, high-pitched sound began from somewhere outside, cutting you off and making the three of you jump and glance up and around. The Dustdevil, leaning at her register, frowned and cocked her ‘head’. In the distance, loud, roaring barks echoed, almost drowning out the weird, sourceless little noise. He knew those voices. Dogamy and Dogeressa were closing in, their battle-howls tearing through the air. 

Papyrus stepped away but you followed him, standing to keep your grip on his hand. The two of you went back outside, nearing the man in time to see the two Dogs turn the distant street corner and begin sprinting down the long shopping strip on all fours, a veritable storm of fur and armor, roaring warnings in their own tongue to get out of the way or be rent by tooth and claw. Under their approach, the sound came again.

…

*brrrrrrrng!*

…

*brrrrrrrng!*

With horror, Papyrus realized a second too late what he was hearing, what you all were hearing. 

The tinny, muffled ringtone of a cheap tracfone. Bound in electrical tape and wires and laying on the ground half-under one splayed open side of the human's accelerant-soaked coat, connected by yet more wires to some further evil hidden within.

Whirling, Papyrus pushed you backwards hard, shoving you off your feet and using his magic to float you a good sixty feet back like thistledown, blowing you through the Dustdevil's doorway again. Dogamy and Dogeressa were a scant hundred yards away, magic forming around their jaws and paws as he raised his voice and roared to the entire street-

“DOES ANYONE HAVE A FIRE EXTINGUISHER?! WATER MAGIC?! ANYTHING?!”

Not waiting for an answer, he sprinted toward the man, ripping all his magic off him as he yelled, “TAKE IT OFF! YOUR COAT, TAKE IT OFF! NOW!!! TAKE IT OFF NOW HURRY!!!”

…

The drunken fool started to laugh. 

…

And there was a thick, down-stuffed winter coat, soaked through with incredibly flammable paint thinner.

And there was a homemade firestarter, woven into and through the thick coat, undoubtedly meant to be left somewhere with its accompanying bottle of fuel, an unnoticeable bit of trash until it was too late.

And there was a human man, who'd gotten too drunk in an effort to give himself the bravery to commit a heinous act, who'd perhaps lost track of time for a plan already made…who was rough and dirty and hateful and violent…but smart enough to make a remote firestarter, still alive and breathing, and able to change, and be good and kind, if only he would stop laughing, if only he would take it off, if only Papyrus could get there faster, if only he could reach him-

*brrrrrrrng!*

His fever-bright eyes never left Papyrus', locked onto his gaze completely.

...

And then there was 

Fire. 

Chapter Text

Like it always did, in times of true crisis, Papyrus’ mind went almost uncomfortably cool and calm. As if watching in slow motion, he saw the red glow spark and spread through the man's coat and into whatever was hidden within the stuffing, consuming the cheap polyester and bursting through the moment it touched the paint thinner. Dogamy and Dogeressa were both skidding to a stop some fifty feet away, their noses telling them what their eyes couldn't yet see- that danger was imminent. 

In that strange, timeless moment before catastrophe, Papyrus had a terrible realization. If he were to protect himself, the two Dogs, you, and all the other Monsters watching from crowded windows and doorways from whatever even more dangerous materials might be within the man's heavy coat…materials potentially far more explosive and dangerous…then he had to surround the human completely and totally with bones. Enough that not a flame could get out…which would also be enough, horribly, to direct the flickering yellow flames climbing across his body into a chimney that no human being could survive. Oh how he wished for a Fire Sprite, or even a Water Sprite, with the river so nearby! But a quick glance around told him there were none to be found, at least not in these few crucial seconds. There wasn't time to pull his blue magic off you to help him do anything with the human either, and if Papyrus was honest…he didn't want to. It was his insurance policy on your safety, ensuring he could move you clear of any danger. 

Time ‘resumed’ in a dizzying moment; Papyrus reached deep, pouring magic from his hands into the ground, his mind made up. As Undyne had repeated, again and again in training, “You do whatever helps the most people. Triage, decide, and act. Doubt later!”

It still hurt his Soul to do. He knew, consciously, that the man most likely wouldn't survive even if Papyrus didn't interfere at all. His clothing was saturated with an incredibly flammable substance, actively burning more and more and risking the life of anyone who drew close. But…still. 

Still.

The drunken arsonist was terrified and almost fully aflame now, his high-pitched laughter turning into a hysterical scream as he struggled in inebriation to stand up and get the heavy coat off himself at once…but they could all see that the jacket itself was strapped to him on the inside; even with his arms out of the sleeves, a band around his belly prevented him from escaping. And it wouldn't even help, not really. His shirt and jeans were aflame as well, saturated with paint thinner and burning brightly.

A tiny ‘pop’ within the coat made the human gasp and choke, a horrible cut-off noise of fear and pain gurgling in his throat as he fought the band around his middle. He made eye contact with Papyrus, his own wide and terrified; it was easy to be brave and fearless when one was full of drunken swagger, but much, much harder when once was faced with the excruciating, deadly consequences of one's choices.

Everything so far had happened in a scarce handful of seconds, the Dogs now beginning to retreat as something within the coat itself suddenly lit up white hot, shining through the fabric. The taller Monster could only look on with horror and pity as the man cried out in terror, fighting even harder to escape whatever was about to happen. He was moments away from completing his spellwork and calling up as solid of a wall of bones as possible before whatever had ‘popped’ in the coat was able to do the mischief it was doubtless made for…he knew the signs of something explosive when he saw them. Fervently, he hoped they'd be strong enough to contain it. He'd never tested his magic against an explosion, and every second the flames burned on the man's jacket was another second that the evil hidden inside gained more thermal power. 

Then-

“You, and you! Please! Choke it out if you can, suck the air away so Papyrus can help him! He's dying, please!”

Papyrus had often admired your innate boldness, how your instinct was always to stand up to something rather than stand back. You were a quick thinker and an excellent problem solver; something he got to watch in real time whenever your work called you with some issue or another that your director (rightfully) trusted you enough to handle on your own. But never had he seen that quick thinking on display in a real emergency until now. 

Literally the very second before he cast his spell, a wind so sudden, strong, and sharp that he recoiled from the grit and asphalt it ripped up began to whirl around the man as he flailed with his coat; a tornado at full strength, miniaturized and made all the more whippingly-powerful for it. He risked a glance back as the two Dogs cried out in surprise. You were standing next to the Dustdevil proprietress, joined by another of her kind from somewhere, your tearstained face and stance desperate between them. Both nearly glowed with the white power of the magic they were pouring into what Papyrus now realized was their spell around the man, a whirlwind of choking, crackling magic.

Then he realized why, his mind catching up with your words.

God you were fucking brilliant. 

The cyclone was so strong around the man that he quickly started choking, clutching at his throat and trying to escape the lack of oxygen….but the flames were snuffed out. 

Dogamy's nose went up, incredibly accurate despite his distance “No flame…Papyrus, throw him in the river! Now! It's gonna explode!” 

He had to act, while your quick thinking bought him a precious moment; some explosives didn't need oxygen to ignite, and his magic was not made for containing such a severe and sudden impact. Racing forward, ignoring Dogeressa’s scream, he used that other power, the one he didn't like to talk about (a brother was lost but something was gained, a line of code that shouldn't be possible, added in the moment of infinite possibility before total destruction- Gaster would not leave his family defenseless if he could help it), and kicked off the air itself. Twice, three times- faster! Fast enough to carry, fast enough to complete the arc, beat the frames and the level instance alike, averting a programmed catastrophe- what was he even thinking, what were these senseless words? 

The cyclone vanished the second he touched it. With all the strength and speed he could muster, he impacted the man like a linebacker, bodily lifting him the last thirty feet across the road, the far sidewalk, and throwing him over the riverbank. The human screamed as he flew twenty feet, careening into the center of the deep water with an enormous splash.

Everyone held their breath. Papyrus on the riverbank…the two Dogs who had raced to join him…the Dustdevils with you at their side…every Monster and human face within their shop and apartment windows and doorways. The only noise to be heard was the man, burned and screaming with it, thrashing and gurgling in the deep water as he finally, finally undid the strap around his stomach and flailed to escape the boobytrapped jacket. 

A moment passed. 

Then a second…

A third... 

All eyes were on the coat, bobbing to the surface and floating down the river. Another sharp wind rushed by Papyrus and the Dogs, helping to push the struggling man against the current until he could clutch at one of the large rocks that lined the edges of the water. Dogamy started to relax. “Oh thank the stars. The water must've-”

*BOOM*

Everyone flinched as, with a sudden burst of flame and noise, the jacket exploded where it bobbed along the river, throwing up a spout of water and sending bits of material flying. A few got enough air to land in the street, quickly burning themselves out to ash harmlessly as the man cringed and sobbed in the water.

Papyrus sagged with relief. He hadn't wanted the would-be arsonist to die, despite the severity of what the man's invention would have done if he'd been left to his own plans here in the Monster side of town. No, he wanted him to stand trial, and endure captivity as he was forced to reckon with what he'd attempted.

Then-

“Screw you! You were gonna blow us up!” A Fawn, peeking out from beneath her mother's arm in their boutique doorway.

“You piece of fucking shit!” That was a young Salamander, leaning out a window of her apartment above a designer purse shop nearby. 

“He tried to kill us! He was going to burn us up! I recorded everything!” 

“Murderer!”

“Human trash!” 

“Arsonist!”

“Firestarter!”

Monsters were, as a whole, a kind people. Generally empathetic to a fault. 

But everyone had their limits. 

Papyrus supposed that the sputtering, shivering human man, trying and failing again and again to crawl out of the water on the slick stones, had found the watching crowd's.

Beside him, Dogeressa sighed gustily as she and her husband trudged up to meet him.

“Well…who wants to go fishing?” 

You sagged against the doorway as the immediate catastrophe passed, and the terror of what had almost just happened caught up with you. The two Dustdevils weren't much better, both of them looking, for lack of better terms, weaker after such a sudden, aggressive magical working. The breezes that made up their bodies could scarcely carry little scraps of leaves and twigs, the heavier pebbles falling to the ground. 

The two Dog guards wasted no time crawling down the riverbank and apprehending the wounded man, dragging him from the water and magically binding him as they pulled magical medicines from hidden pockets to treat his severe burns. Papyrus watched from across the street, occasionally glancing back at you; you waved tiredly, sitting down on the bench outside the shop. Your boyfriend's magic still bubbled inside you, feeling somehow as blue as its color when he worked it, and almost as comforting as if he himself was there holding you. Dimly, you wondered about the implications and emotions of his magic being wrapped around your Soul itself, the inherent intimacy of the act (and the second time he'd done it no less, now that you remembered back to that first, fateful date and your near-fall). 

But there'd be time to ponder such things later. Your soft black dress was too thin for the chill coming into the air, making you rub your arms for a minute. Then you jumped as, a few moments later, a soft shawl was draped over your shoulders; you glanced back to see the somehow more masculine Dustdevil who'd joined you and his maybe-wife from the back area of the shop. He patted your shoulder, snapped the price tags off the shawl, then slid back into the propped-open doorway. 

It was lovely material, silky and warm, a dark blue and gold weave that felt as smooth as water under your fingertips as you stroked it. The distinctive purple emergency lights of the Monster royal guard were approaching now, a vehicle turning down the road as Papyrus flicked his fingers and dropped the bone barricades he'd made earlier. You wondered if human police would show up too; did they have jurisdiction here, in what many considered to be an extension of the Mountain itself? 

You leaned your head back against the wall behind you, closing your eyes.

-

Your man was disconcertingly quiet on the ride home, driving with one hand planted so firmly on your thigh that you weren't sure you could peel it off even if you wanted to…so you covered it with your own instead. It started to rain about halfway home, painting the world in melancholic smears through the windows. Inside the car, it was so quiet that you could hear your heartbeat in your ears; you were the only one breathing.

Papyrus didn't even hesitate to turn toward your place. Parking on the dark street behind your car, he took a deep breath. Then, once he'd taken the keys from the ignition, he leaned forward to rest his forehead on his hand at the top of the steering wheel, his other still lightly digging into your leg. He was so uncharacteristically quiet for so long that you eventually broke the heavy silence in the car. 

“Py?” When he turned his head slightly to look at you, the white shine of his eyes shimmered faintly off your skin. “You okay?”

It took a few moments too long for him to answer, his voice an unusual murmur. “...YEAH.”

Then, to your embarrassment (because you'd held it together perfectly fine once your initial small outburst of tears had passed some hours ago, after Papyrus magically pinned a crazed drunk you'd both thought capable of no more tactical evil than a wild animal), tears came into your eyes. 

“H-he was going to kill himself. To…to kill people. A public murder-suicide. Right? I'm not crazy for thinking that, r-right?” You didn't know what was wrong with you; it came bubbling out like a kettle over too much steam, making you trip over your own words as tears leaked down your cheeks. “He said it himself; someone told him that Monsters are a disease…it's the arsonist, his crazy shit he keeps posting online. It's convincing people to do terrible things, like a poison, it…it…”

Your voice petered out, catching in your throat. 

Papyrus closed his eyes again, rare weariness making every line of his body sag as he squeezed your thigh, trying to comfort you. “...I THINK THAT'S SAFE TO ASSUME, YEAH. THEY WILL QUESTION HIM. BUT…YEAH.”

The car suddenly felt too cramped, too loud and constricted as the rain began to pound down. You felt like a dog in a too-small crate, almost trembling in your seat with the need to move as tears continued to leak unbidden down your cheeks. “I'm sorry, can we go inside? I just…it…”

You couldn't find the words, but he understood you all the same. Without another word, the two of you got out, ducking through the rain onto your small, covered porch as thunder cracked in the distance. That, and a far-nearer noise, made you glance up- a group of kids barely older than teenagers were slouching quickly down your street with their hoods up. A night of mischief ruined by the sudden change in weather, perhaps.

They didn't look full of mischief now, sodden and hurrying between porches and trees…but just the sight of them here, at midnight during a surprise downpour, put you on edge. You were looking for danger everywhere now, especially in the faces of your own people. The sound of you fumbling your keys out of your purse with shaking hands made a few of them glance up. 

And perhaps you would have held it together just fine, as one sneered at you with too-dark eyes in a too-pale face…

But then another glanced to your side, where Papyrus stood silently watching. And their voice, when it came, was full of ugly, misplaced cruelty-

“What the fuck? Is that a fucking skeleton? Is it dead?”

And then, as human nature demanded, another joined in-

“Ew come on fat ass, can't even get a pity fuck from a real dude?”

…

Shamefully, you absolutely lost your shit.

Distantly, as Papyrus tried to pry the keys from your hand while you screamed at the group of dipshits, unlock the door, and gently shove you inside before a neighbor called the police, he wondered if this was how animal tamers in the circus felt. Because there was real, genuine fury in your eyes- anger he'd never seen before from you. And not even at their insult to yourself; no. Things like that rolled off your back as easily as they pissed him off. 

No, you were spittingly, violently angry, for him. It was a wonder humanity had managed any success as a society, for he genuinely believed you'd have flown at the group had he not grabbed you by the arm; you were fighting his grip as you screamed at them all, their voices and yours rising to compete with the growing thunder. 

Ignoring whatever they were saying, he finally wrenched your door open and yanked you inside, slamming it in their faces and locking it just as thunder cracked so close and so loud that it made all of them jump and duck. In the comparative silence of your darkened entry way, your breathing was hard, fast and rough, your eyes sharp-cut gems in the bit of street light coming through the frosted window as you glared at him with displaced anger.

Wordlessly, he raised his hands, watching as you clenched your jaw so hard your teeth audibly squeaked. You opened your mouth…and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his phone ringing over-loud in his pocket. Papyrus closed his eyes for a moment, praying for patience…then answered it. You stepped around him and began flicking on the lights with sharp, angry motions, stomping further into your house and patting Cheese as he slinked around the corner to stare up at you nervously. 

“Dude what happened?” Asriel's voice was sharp and demanding, almost royal. 

Papyrus grit his teeth.

“...ASK UNDYNE. I'VE REPEATED IT ALL FIVE TIMES ALREADY. I DON'T WANT TO AGAIN TONIGHT.” It was the shortest he'd ever been with his old friend. 

Asriel, to his credit, took it in stride. “Alright. No problem.” A pause. “You good?”

“YEAH."

“She good?”

The distant sound of the shower turning on in your bathroom couldn't quite drown out the sound of something fragile being smashed to pieces on the back of the door. Cheese came skittering back around the corner of the living room to hide behind his legs.

“...YEAH.”

The prince's voice was very quiet. “That bad?”

Papyrus scrubbed a hand over his face, kicking off his shoes and walking into the living room to collapse on the couch, patting his leg to call the dog up onto his lap. “IT WAS BAD…BUT IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE.” The silky fur under his hand grounded him. “LIKE I SAID…ASK UNDYNE. SHE'LL BE UP ALL NIGHT WRITING REPORTS.” He could hear you banging bottles around, swearing under your breath at the same time.

“Okay. See you later on tomorrow.”

Papyrus groaned; gods help him, it was Sunday night…technically Monday morning. The Queen's birthday party was that afternoon.

“OKAY, YEAH. SEE YOU.”

Hanging up, he snuggled the pup close for a few minutes, letting him wash his cheek. “I DON'T KNOW IF I SHOULD GO TO HER OR NOT, FRIEND.” His voice was a whisper. ”I DON'T KNOW IF YOUR HUMAN LIKES TO BE BY HERSELF WHEN SHE'S ANGRY. I'VE NEVER SEEN IT BEFORE IN THE TIME I'VE KNOWN HER…NOT LIKE THIS, ANYWAY.” Cheese stared at him intently, so Papyrus went on. “HUMANS ARE QUITE FRIGHTENING WHEN THEY'RE ANGRY, AREN'T THEY? I SUPPOSE IT WOULD HAVE COME UP EVENTUALLY, BUT…WELL-”

Papyrus sighed. “-TODAY ENDED UP BEING A VERY BAD DAY. I GOT HER A PRESENT, AND NEVER EVEN FOUND THE CHANCE TO GIVE IT TO HER. ALAS, PERHAPS IT’S TOO SOON ANYWAY. AT LEAST IT'S NOT A RING, RIGHT? HUMANS ARE WEIRD ABOUT THOSE.”

Three months. Stars and coldlight, it had only been three months. Three months since the two of you got together. Three months since his life was completely knocked off kilter, since the center of his Soul was carved out and replaced by a woman who smiled at him like he was the sunrise and screamed at strangers for insulting him. Three months since something had come into his life so precious, so important, that he'd planned every second of every crucial action earlier with her safety as his most primary, most paramount objective. He didn't want the man to die- he'd wanted him to live, and face justice. But if it had come down to a choice between him and you? It wasn't even a question.

Fingering the little necklace box in his pocket, and with exhaustion in every fiber of his bones, Papyrus finally admitted to himself that he loved you. Completely, utterly, and sincerely. Which sucked, because he knew humans didn't talk about those things sometimes for a year or more (which was honestly way too long!), and how the hell was he supposed to keep it a secret? It wasn't in his nature to keep secrets at all!

But it wouldn't be appropriate to say something yet…even though he was almost sure he felt the same from your Soul, any time you looked at him with warmth in your strange, lovely eyes. Affection, a feeling of trust and safety, and simmering attraction, all blending together with a deeper pool of emotion beneath that he couldn't really put a finger on without starting to get magically invasive…was that love? 

This all was something that various sites on the Monsternet warned both races about again and again- Monster courtships were short, joyful and intense, while human ones were long, stressful, and full of little subconscious tests (they couldn't really know each other's feelings, after all). All the (good) advice said that both sides should strive for balance and sincerity. 

So he was doing his damned best to be balanced and sincere, to tick off all the boxes of ‘human dates and relationships’ in his head…when really, especially after a day like today, he wanted nothing more than to be a Monster with you, with all that that entailed. But no. You were still healing from past pains, despite hardly ever so much as mentioning those times to him…he wouldn't add more relationship-flavored stress to your plate.

In his lap, Cheese glanced back toward the sound of you in the shower, then at Papyrus- he nodded in reply. “AH…I SUPPOSE YOU KNOW HER BEST OF ALL. THANK YOU FOR THE ADVICE.” He gently sat the little creature down on the floor, stood, and walked toward your bathroom, shedding clothing haphazardly through the house as he went. Cutting through your bedroom, he glanced over at the dresser; one of his textbooks was sitting there amongst your woman-detritus, crowned by a compact of powder, a stray earring, and a crumpled receipt. Despite the harshness of the night, it made him smile; proof that he fit here with you, making himself a comfortable spot in your life.

Gingerly, he knocked on your bathroom door. You'd gone from sniffling to muttering under your breath, but you went quiet for a moment at his knock. Then-

“...yeah?”

He cracked the door, ignoring the sound of broken ceramic dragging across the floor behind it, to say, “OH IT IS JUST SO VERY COLD AND LONELY OUT HERE, AND SO I WAS WONDERING IF PERHAPS A CERTAIN LOVELY AND PRETTY LADY WOULD BE WILLING TO- HMMM, I DON'T KNOW -PERCHANCE MAYBE-”

Though your voice was tired, there was humor in it as you interrupted him. “You can come in, honey.” 

Grinning, and using a bit of magic to sweep the ceramic shards out of harm's way for the time being, he slid in and closed the door behind him, then used that same magical hand to scoop them into the trash. You had the lights off save for the dim, warmly-golden overhead one, and were currently watching him through the misty sliding glass doors of your oversized shower stall. He'd been horrendously jealous of it since the first time he'd seen your bathroom; it was big enough to have a built-in bench with its own secondary shower head. Now, while he leaned against the sink in his slacks and socks and took a moment to just breathe the humid air, he could admire the fuzzy visage of your body through the glass, how your curves invited his eye as you rinsed your hair.

“Why don't you come in here?”

Well you didn't have to ask him twice. He slid the rest of his clothes off and stepped in, wincing at the almost scaldingly hot water. Rather than join you under its blast, he sat down on the bench with the sharp chime of bones against granite, and leaned back against the cool glass, sighing with appreciation at the simple pleasure of looking at you. Seeing him avoid the water with his toes, you clucked your tongue and turned the water back down to a slightly more tolerable temperature, smiling faintly at him. “Better?”

He nodded, closing his eyes and reaching over to turn on the secondary shower head, relaxing as it began to fall gently on him. “I'M GETTING THIS EXACT DESIGN INSTALLED AT MY HOUSE, I LOVE IT. WE HAVE THAT GUEST BATHROOM UPSTAIRS WITH A PLAIN SHOWER STALL AND THIS WOULD BE LOVELY. SANS CAN EVEN SIT DOWN AND GET SOGGY.”

That made you laugh a little. “I like that you're so nice with him. I love my sister and all, but we fought like cats and dogs growing up.”

He shrugged, rolling his head back against the wonderful coolness of the glass behind it. “WE DIDN'T HAVE ANYONE ELSE. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN VERY STUPID TO WASTE OUR TIME FIGHTING.”

“Oh…right. I'm sorry.” Your butterfly touch on his shoulder made him open his eyes; you were water-slick and beautiful, your eyes just a little bit reddened. Wordlessly, he reached for you, turning you a little as he pulled you in so that you sat down sideways on his legs rather than putting your knees down on the hard granite bench, then tucking you into his arms so he could bundle you close. This time he did put a layer of magic over himself, despite the immediate grumble in your throat; he was nicer to sit on than granite for soft, naked human bits, but not by much. Then, with delightfully warm water cascading over him and his arms full of his woman, he closed his eyes again and sighed deeply, sitting in silence and holding you for a few minutes. 

But as time passed, and you pressed little kisses to his shoulder, something began to bother him. Something that had been niggling at him all night, a feeling that had grown and grown with each moment that he'd looked back to see you sitting on that bench outside the shop, chilled and exhausted, yet waiting without complaint for him to finish his duties to his people. 

Despite his weariness, he felt like he had to say something.

“I’M…SORRY. THAT YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH ALL OF THIS, BECAUSE I'M A MONSTER.”

You shook your head immediately, your wet hair sliding interestingly across his collarbones. “Not your fault. Don't apologize.”

There was a lot he could say to that. He could say that the arsonist on the street might not have even targeted you, if he'd been a human…but then the man would have just gone off to commit whatever evil he'd been planning. He could say that life would be easier overall if you were simply dating a human…but his opinion of human men wasn't the highest, and Papyrus really did like himself very much. He even could have said that he was apologizing for everything, a sort of past-present-future apology for every frustrating thing that might stem from the two of you being from different peoples. 

But instead, with exhaustion catching up to him, and the hot water relaxing him, and his body mildly but not urgently interested in the naked, beautiful woman in his arms, Papyrus's mind-to-mouth filter turned off completely, and what left him instead was-

“LOVE YOU, BUNNY.” 

It made no sense why he said it, for he hadn't even been thinking such a thing! Or, well, maybe he had…but in a more round-about way, thinking of how much he cared for you and enjoyed your company rather than those specific words. The very second the errant thought left his lips, he squeezed his eyes closed, grimacing- this was a terrible moment to say such a thing for the first time, hadn't he just been thinking how he shouldn't rush that?!

He didn't dare to look at you; your breath had caught, your body going still in his arms. Perhaps he should backtrack, but what could he say? ‘OH HAHA, NEVER MIND’? That would be even more messed up, oh Stars above…

“...oh.”

He was so embarrassed that he might die right on the spot, an easy pile of dust for you to rinse down the drain. Doubtless he was blushing brightly enough to make his cheeks glow; hopefully it highlighted his expression of, ‘I swear to god, I didn't mean to say that’ at least. 

But then, as gently as a feather landing there, you leaned up and pressed a very sweet kiss to his jaw. When your voice came, it was so soft as to be nearly drowned out by the water. “Do you mean it?”

He nodded, still not daring to look at you. Of course he meant it. Had been thinking about it more and more this past month. This was it- you'd finally be tired of his strange, unhuman ways, and kick him out into the rain. It was the perfect night for it after all, chilly and gloomy, he could morosely drive home and-

“I love you too, Py…so stop making that terrible face.”

Oh. 

His Soul swooped in his belly, making him feel silly and giggly for a moment despite the nastiness of the night. When he cracked an eye open, he caught the reflection of the two of you in the glass of the shower; you, lovely and soft in his arms, were smiling so wide that it showed your teeth, trying and failing to cover it with your hand.

And then-

“It's probably been, um…odd for you too, right? Being with a human girl and all.”

He shrugged, feeling a bit giddy as he helped you stand up again when you made a movement to. “IT IS WHAT IT IS.” Stretching hard enough that it made him shake, he followed you out, turning off the water and taking a towel when you handed it over.

You smiled at him over your shoulder, wrapping the towel under your arms and flipping your hair upside down to wrap it too. “What if I was a Monster girl? What would be different?”

Papyrus pursed his lips; it wasn't an awkward question, not really, but… 

“AH…WELL, YOU KNOW.”

His hesitation drew your fascination. “No I really don't honey, I'm curious. Come on, tell!” You smiled up into his eyes mischievously, very obviously trying to draw him out of his morose mood. “Do you roll in the mud in the full moon together? Pee on each other?”

He snorted despite himself, grinning. “ONLY IF YOU'RE INTO THAT, I GUESS.” How to explain it? “IT'S HARD TO PUT INTO WORDS BUNNY. STUFF JUST…HAPPENS, I GUESS. I DON'T REALLY KNOW BY EXPERIENCE. JUST FROM WELL-MEANING PERVERTS ON THE INTERNET."

You trotted out, throwing yourself down into bed and yawning hugely- the clock on your dresser read 1:40am. “Is there something you feel like you're missing out on? I'm being serious honey, you can tell me. As long as it isn't like, I dunno, a blood ritual or something, I'm happy to do something with you.” Rolling over onto your side, you gave him a very shy, very sweet smile that made his Soul melt. “I…I want you to be happy. Even happier.”

Well now that was just too cute. He finished drying off and got under your comforter while you laid one towel over your pillow and tossed the other one away, joining him. “FIRST OFF, I AM VERY HAPPY. YOU ARE CUTE AND NICE AND VERY SMART AND FUN TO BE AROUND, AND I LIKE THAT WE ARE BOTH GOOD AT MANY OF THE SAME THINGS BUT NOT ALL OF THEM!” Reaching out, he smooshed his air-chilled bones into your back and rear as you turned over, making you hiss and smack at him gently. “AND YOU ARE SO VERY NICE AND WAAAARM-” “-Ack you're so cold, get off me shithead!-” “-AND I LIKE THAT YOU FIT VERY PERFECTLY AGAINST ME, LIKE THIS. LIKE YOU WERE MADE TO.”

That earned him a soft little sound of happiness, as he'd meant it to, even as you squirmed away from his chilly hands. “Oh…”

“BUT…SINCE YOU ASK…” How to put it?

“DO YOU REMEMBER THE…THE FIRST TIME WE…” He couldn't bring himself to say it, but the pleased hum in your throat, and the way your body went just a tiny bit more curved and liquid against him, told him you knew anyway. “Yeah?”

“HOW EVERYTHING WAS LIKE…REFLECTED? BACK AND FORTH? WELL THAT WAS…UNUSUAL. EVEN FOR MONSTERS, BEING SO SOON. THAT’S KINDA WHERE, IF WE WERE BOTH MONSTERS, WE WOULD MAYBE BE NOW. TWO PEOPLE, WITH PART OF THEMSELVES LAYERING OVER AND INTO EACH OTHER MAGICALLY. IT USUALLY STARTS WITH SNUGGLY SEXY THINGS, SURE, BUT THEN IT, YOU KNOW…SPREADS OUT. INTO LIFE AND ALL.”

You turned in his arms, gazing up at him with your beautiful eyes in the low light coming from the bathroom with a tiny frown. “But…that happened for us so soon? Though not since, I…I wondered…”

He couldn't hide the expression on his face from you, this close, and you caught it immediately. Not guilt, not exactly, just a resigned, determined sort of small disappointment. You'd both been terribly overwhelmed, that first time, and he hadn't known who to ask about it, so… 

“Oh…you've been stopping things like that from happening, haven't you?” 

Papyrus stroked a gentle hand down your arm. “YOU WERE OVERWHELMED. I WAS OVERWHELMED. I DON'T KNOW WHY SOMETHING LIKE THAT HAPPENED AT OUR VERY FIRST CANOODLING, AND IT WAS VERY…IT WAS A LOT. SO…YES. EVER SINCE.”

And no, it didn't feel great. To shove his magic down and away from you, to separate and divide his body and Soul that way. But what was the other option? Share memories, sensation, pleasure, with someone you were just starting to know? Scare away his lovely human girl with a level of intimacy that even he had been woefully underprepared for, that first time? 

He found himself being rolled onto his back as you pushed at him gently. “HMM?” Then he really lost track of what he'd been saying, as, keeping the comforter around your shoulders, you got on your knees and slung a leg over his hips, settling the lovely, warm apex of your thighs over his pelvis and sitting down onto his invisible magical body that covered it. 

“I'm gonna be like, really gross and earnest and emotional here for a second, okay?” 

He nodded, unsure if you were also trying to be sexy and trying very hard not to ruin the moment by having a brilliant orange dong pop into existence underneath you- a losing battle, for your nipples were hard from the cool bedroom air, and your skin was beautifully smooth and pebbled by goosebumps, and he'd never seen you on top like this- why hadn't the two of you done this yet? It was magnificently sexy. 

“OKAY AND I AM LISTENING VERY CLOSELY. BUT IF THERE IS ALSO A WEINER INVOLVED, I'M SORRY. YOU'RE VERY PRETTY LIKE THIS.”

Your soft smile was all the answer he got to that. “Okay…so. I was thinking about that, actually, the other night. The first time we…you know.”

“YEAH?” That subject was not at all helping the anti-weiner movement. 

“Yeah. And…ooey gooey emotional bits incoming, here.”

He grinned. “MY FAVORITE PARTS!”

Taking his hands in your own, you pressed them around your waist, holding them there. “I…oh god. This is gonna sound so cliche and gross, honey. That first time? That was…I needed it. It was healing; it helped me.”

Oh. Huh. That wasn't what he expected. It distracted him momentarily from the caveman ‘unga bunga pretty lady on top holding hips’ cascade going through his mind. You looked terribly embarrassed too, for some reason, blushing faintly and not meeting his eye. “ISN'T THAT A GOOD THING?”

“Of course it is, of course it is.” So quick to comfort him, always. So fast to try and make him happy. “I…it was a good thing. It was the best possible thing, Papyrus listen to me.” 

His fuzzing, horny attention flicked back to you as your voice got a little more serious, your gaze intent on his. “I was hurt. I wasn't happy, about a lot of things in my life. I was having nightmares sometimes, that he'd find me…that what he'd said when I left him was true. ‘No one will put up with your shit like I do. No one will want to deal with you, you act like a fucking freak and you're not great to look at either’, that's what he said.”

He narrowed his eyes. Oh how he'd fantasized, privately and quietly, about finding that man. 

“Put yourself in my shoes. You're not happy with yourself. You're wondering if he was right, if there is something wrong with you? Something that makes you weird or off-putting. You know that they were probably the words of a spiteful, abusive asshole…but it worms under your skin and you can't forget it.”

Squeezing your hips gently, Papyrus realized that the two of you had a lot more in common than he'd known.

“And then, along comes a guy so fucking sweet, so sincere and kind and funny and handsome-” (he was blushing now) “-that you can't help but want to get to know him…but what if everything that asshole said was right? But then you do get to know him. And the very first time the two of you can't stand it anymore and end up in bed together…you're given literally undeniable magical proof that he doesn't think any of those things are true about you.”

Who would have guessed, even a year ago, that life would have brought him to this- to you? He was speechless in the face of your blushing sincerity, moved that you would fight your own nerves to be so candid for him. 

You leaned down, your breasts pressed to his ribs, and whispered these last words against his lips- “Would that scare you? Would you want it to stop? Especially now that you know, you know, that he loves you?”

Because he could think of no better answer, and because something was sparking between the nearness of your two Souls like electricity arcing across wires, he cupped a hand to the back of your head and kissed you deeply. 

When you tore yourself away from him, moaning softly as he palmed your breasts, it was only to whisper, “Don't stop it from happening. Let me feel it.”

How could he possibly say no?

Chapter Text

You leaned down, your breasts pressed to his ribs, and whispered these last words against his lips- “Would that scare you? Would you want it to stop? Especially now that you know, you know, that he loves you?”

Because he could think of no better answer, and because something was sparking between the nearness of your two Souls like electricity arcing across wires, he cupped a hand to the back of your head and kissed you deeply. 

When you tore yourself away from him, moaning softly as he palmed your breasts, it was only to whisper, “Don't stop it from happening. Let me feel it.”

How could he possibly say no?

Feeling your man's magic form and swell beneath you until it pressed up between your legs was simultaneously the oddest and hottest thing you'd ever felt- a bit like a human man going from flaccid to rock hard, but infinitely more exciting. A fluttering, flickering warmth against the most delicate part of your body, like the sparks of a sparkler; harmless and thrilling and bright. Time and experience with you had taken most of the nervousness out of him, leaving behind a very careful, very gentle lover…yet in that moment, his grip on your hips wasn't quite as gentle as his usual touch. Now, it was…demanding. Firm. His thumbs were tucked perfectly in the soft creases of your thighs, his long fingers wrapping around to squeeze the flesh of your hips, and he had a half-smile on his face so full of affection that you bit your lip without even thinking about it. 

Of course his eyes flicked to the motion, his chin coming up just a bit as he looked you over- if you rocked your hips forward, you could catch the tip of his hard length right where you wanted it…

“I…are you…can I?” You were bewitched or something, you'd swear. A bizarre sensation of warmth and the swooping of a rollercoaster was radiating from your chest, making you clumsy with your words and giddy in your belly. Was this magic? His magic? Behind his ribs, Papyrus's Soul was pressed to the front of the bones, nearly bulging against them as it pulsed quickly. You were always fascinated by it, and so so scared of the potential to hurt that incredibly-delicate part of the man you loved (loved, you loved him, he loved you, yes…these were true things) despite his assurances that you couldn't. But now, as you watched, you realized that it was beating in time with the feeling in your own chest. 

Oh. 

Thoughtlessly, you reached down, putting your finger right above it, between two ribs; he only continued to admire you, squeezing at your hips to enjoy their plushness but doing nothing else. His Soul strained toward you visibly, the tiny inverted heart nearly trembling with it. Softly, which was a rare treat from your boisterous partner, Papyrus murmured, “THAT'S ME, YOU KNOW. REALLY ME. EVERYTHING ELSE? JUST DUST AND MAGIC. A BODY FOR MY SOUL TO LIVE IN.”

You were desperately curious what it felt like, and he gave no indication that you should stop…so after a moment's consideration and as gently as you were physically capable, you brushed the very very tip of your finger against it. 

Soft. Impossibly soft, like brushing your fingertip over chinchilla fur. So soft that you weren't even sure that you touched it. His breath caught in his chest the tiniest bit. Suddenly terribly curious and terribly turned on, you pressed your other hand to your own chest. “What does mine look like? Could I feel it too?”

He nodded. “I CAN SHOW YOU SOMETIME...” His grip on your hips, and the way he'd started verrrrry slowly sliding his length back and forth through the saddle of your pussy, told you that he wasn't willing to let you get any further away for the time being. Taking a deep breath- you hadn't realized how wet you were until right that second- you brushed the back of one knuckle softly over his Soul again, smiling as it practically leapt against his ribs to meet your touch. “Yeah?”

It was getting harder to focus on talking- all your attention was between your thighs. To his credit, despite blushing nearly tangerine with desire, Papyrus found more words than you could, teasing and hot. “AND Y-YOU KNOW…HUMAN SOULS ARE JUST SO VERY TEMPTING TO MONSTERS…” A gasp left you unwittingly as he moved his grip on your hips to pull you forward, using the angle of his fingers to tilt your body back just enough that he could catch the head of his cock inside you. Feeling mischievous and wanting to tease yourself, you circled your hips, then let it pop back out again. He shivered as you repeated the motion, then ground your clit down back and forth until he was soaked with your own desire and you were half-crazed with it. 

“You're so hot, Py…I don't even know how to handle it.”

His grin was sex itself. “I DON'T KNOW. I THINK YOU, AH, I THINK YOU HANDLE ‘IT’ PRETTY WELL.” As you rolled your eyes, smirking, he circled his thumbs on your skin. “COME ON. I'M IMPATIENT. ” Swearing softly under your breath and wet enough that you didn't even have to rock him in, you sank back and down on his cock slowly until, shivering, you were flush with his body. Groaning, his voice dropped in his chest. “ STARS BUNNY.” 

“Oh honey, honey …you were so handsome today, I'm so proud of you.” The praise dripped from your lips, unstoppable in its sincerity (he loves me, he loves me.) “Brave… ohhhh, s-strong…” you punctuated each word with a rise and drop of your hips, trembling at the sensation of him sliding out to the very tip and then down to the root again “I was so impressed by you, I was so scared but you…you… god, I…”

Your sweet man looked like something from a fairy tale underneath you, content to lay back and let you play atop him as magic sparked harmlessly between his bones and formed tiny, barely-visible glimmers of the ‘body’ his bones remembered. “IT WAS EASY TO BE BRAVE, WITH YOU THERE. I WANTED TO…TO KEEP YOUR SAFE.” The relative steadiness of his voice and laxness of his frame compared to your trembling desire made you feel shivery and delicate atop him…oh it was too much, too much temptation and sensation. You gave up trying to look sexy and graceful, fell to prop your hands on your headboard, and began riding him in earnest, your breasts bouncing above his lips as you moaned- god, he felt so good! Absolutely the perfect size, and so easy to be atop thanks to his slim hips. His body made a cradle for you to settle down into again and again, his grip firm and effortlessly strong while you let go of the headboard with one hand and reached down to sketch fast circles on your clit. The warmth in your chest, the swooping, giddy feeling of happiness in your Soul; it was spreading, pouring down your spine like liquid excitement. Already you felt so amazing, climbing and climbing, rushing and tingling warmth gathering and straining…what would happen when that magical sensation reached your core? You usually tried not to make a god-awfully ugly grimacing face or do something equally ungraceful during sex…but the closer to your pussy that sensation got, the less you thought you'd be able to hold it together at all. It was too foreign, too strong , like the first time you'd used a vibrator but infinitely more threatening to overwhelm.

Conversely, your man looked practically relaxed underneath you, just groaning in his chest and panting a little as you wound tighter and tighter. “YOU'RE SO BEAUTIFUL LIKE THIS.” His eyes were shining, his face full of nothing but happiness. “WELL, ALWAYS, BUT…”

And then, just as it had the first time (but the two of you had been too caught up in the moment to really notice its build-up, only the end result), his magic reached the very core of your womanhood…and flared like a spark on kindling. 

If someone had somehow offered the ability to feel what you felt like to a man between your legs before, you might have accepted it as a fun and sexy little experience. You might have imagined it as something hot, something tight. Never would you have guessed that it could be so damned intimate , such an incredibly delicate and safe feeling; the sensation of an inherent part of your sexuality being buried in the heat and want and slip and clench of a woman again and again. Wanting to pull yourself free for the pleasure of her body sliding over your length, but then instantly feeling the loss and being overcome by a need to drive yourself back in as deeply as possible. The feeling was being reflected from both sides, from your desire for something thrusting into you, and from his desire to be that thing over and over. 

It was like the first time the two of you slept together but so terribly more intimate, because you were facing him, and because you weren't so caught up in the moment that you couldn't pay attention to every tiny sensation like you could now. The smile fell from his lips as they dropped open on a pant, his eyes fluttering closed- god, was he feeling you? Was he feeling this? The way your clit dragged across his magical body with each downward roll of your hips, the way he spread you open then slipped out deliciously again and again? Experimentally, you clenched down around him, and moaned, helpless, at the sensation from both sides while he hissed out a breath; he could feel it. Clenching your teeth as something close to a sob exploded from your chest, you arched your back to catch the head of his cock against your g-spot; hard from this angle, but worth it as he swore and arched his head against the pillows.

You could feel his orgasm building like an earthquake beneath yours, his body winding tighter and tighter with the need to spread you and fill you, god, please , it was too much, almost truly too much to bear. The magical overlap became more intense as you collapsed to lay against his chest, bringing your Souls closer; his knees pulled up behind you, thrusting harder and faster than you could manage on top and making you keen with sensation; now he was hitting your g-spot again and again. Barely able to speak, you buried your face against his collarbone and cried out softly, closer with each passing second and truly, wildly out of control. His orgasm was driving you toward yours- unable to bear the doubled-sensations for much longer, your pussy fluttered, making him growl under his breath, and he began forcing himself back into you with more strength as you felt yourself get impossibly tight around him.

“Baby I'm so close, I'm so close… I-I…”

It was like you had to say it aloud, to confirm the raw sensation his Soul was sharing with you. He nodded, panting. “I KNOW, I CAN FEEL HOW MUCH YOU LIKE THIS.” His beautiful tenor dropped into a baritone murmur as you felt the first threat of his orgasm rush up your own thighs, pressure and heat and the desire to fill you with cum. “I CAN FEEL THAT YOU WANT IT HARDER.” 

Oh but you did, god you did, an unspoken desire that you'd have ignored for how lascivious it was…but you couldn't hide it from him now. You couldn't hide that you wanted him atop you, that you craved the feeling of his body pressing you down and crowding you in, his face buried in your neck.

You'd say it was showing off, but you could tell that he was past the point of thinking of such a thing consciously. With that thoughtless Monster strength, he put a hand behind your back and one against the bed, and flipped you both- a movement that would be difficult for any human man, made simple and graceful in its effortless execution. He never left your body, never withdrawing…and the moment he had the leverage to, he shoved his knees under your ass, bundled you into his arms, and fucked you for your life. 

“I LOVE YOUR FACE, LIKE THIS…WHEN YOU CAN'T HIDE HOW GOOD IT FEELS. THAT I DID THAT.” 

You were past words, writhing beneath him, so close that it felt like you could taste the promised pleasure, god you wanted to scream, wanted to dig your nails into him and mark him, wanted to drag them across his spine and lash him, so maddening was this feeling. Rushing, squeezing, clenching, fluttering, your body arched underneath his, fueled by the sensation of his own climax pulsing through his cock when it began, and you cried out in an animal noise of pleasure as your orgasm shattered you like glass,

Your man moaned above you, long and low, half your name and half nonsense, and god, GOD, you could feel him cumming inside you from both sides of the magic. It cracked your cry into a whine , making you dig your nails into his skull and scapula, and you could feel how the sharp little stings of pain drove his pleasure to richer heights.

Like it had the first time and never since, because he loved you enough from the very beginning to be terrified of scaring you away, disjointed memories and bits of sounds, remembered and heard as if from years away, trickled into your mind; thoughts that weren't your own. Yet somehow they didn't feel invasive or frightening at all. It was a request for connection at its purest level, a plea for understanding and an offering of self, and in that moment you wished more than anything that you could do the same for him. He'd said before that the connection didn't seem to go both ways as deeply, with you unable to work magic as he could, and in overwhelm and pleasure you teared up with a tiny grain of regret that you couldn't offer the same gift back to him, petting your hands down his back and panting. 

His cum was leaking out around his cock as he pushed himself upright, dripping down to the bed below, but he didn't stop, gently rocking back in and out of you as you both came down from your orgasms. Usually he didn't stop anyway, being the type of man to need more than one to feel satisfied. But this felt different somehow. Papyrus put a hand on your chest, his fingertips light over your sternum; you saw in your mind's eye an endless winter forest, and a sparkling cavern ceiling so tall it could have been the sky. When it came, his voice was a murmur of surprise and awe.

“THE FIRST RULE OF MAGIC, BUNNY.” There was an odd sensation in your chest, of something suddenly becoming free and loose, that had never been loose there before. “IF YOU WANT SOMETHING BADLY ENOUGH…YOU CAN ALMOST ALWAYS FIND A WAY. THANK YOU…FOR WANTING THIS.”

And then, silently, a question spoken with magic, as a tiny, precious, orange part of you touched his palm, protected and safe. 

‘MAY I?’ 

‘Always.’

You'd fallen asleep, hugging one of his pillows as he curled up behind you and twirled your hair gently through his fingers. What had just happened was, functionally, impossible- no human Soul was capable of the answering magical echo that would allow for it. Yet flashes of your memory, phantom echoes of sound, still flickered through his mind- a sister, a house in the suburbs, a childhood musical event…how?

Who knew. There was time to figure things out later. Now, he buried his face in the back of your neck for a minute, closing his eyes and breathing in the little miracle that had just occurred. 

 -

The two of you woke up late the next morning to a text on Papyrus's phone from Tipp- the Elemental was apparently heading the arson investigation for the crown and wanted his and your full report by phone as soon as the two of you woke, while the memory was fresh. He went first while you made breakfast and fed Cheese, laying on your couch with a pillow over his face. You gave yours while he played with the dog, silently frustrated that the three or four repetitions the two of you had given the night before weren't enough. Still, knowing the party was that afternoon lifted his spirits a bit; he reeled you in for a kiss, smiling as you giggled at him. 

Life was still good.

Toriel's birthday party was already in full swing by the time the two of you arrived- the entire backyard and house was decorated, including the enormous finished basement-turned-rec room that made Papyrus seethe with jealousy every time he saw it. 

After half an hour or so, Asgore came up beside him as he inspected the veritable buffet of food laid out in the kitchen.

“What you did yesterday was amazing,” he said, putting a huge paw on his shoulder. “The two-” undoubtedly meaning the famous Dog guard couple “-told me about your fast reaction, the quick thinking that it took from so many there to help you find the best path forward. I'm proud of you.” The King's face turned weary for a moment. “The hardest part, no matter what anyone else says, is living with the knowledge that you had to make a choice for less harm, not no harm, because the second wasn't an option. I thank the Stars that this time it was an option.”

Papyrus sighed, nodding. “THANK YOU. I'D RATHER…NOT TALK ABOUT IT.” He woken several times the night before, hearing the way the man had screamed like a trapped and wounded animal time and time again in his mind. The way the bizarre drunken bravery had suddenly left him, leaving terror unimaginable in his eyes as he'd stared at Papyrus, his expression a desperate plea for help. “IT WAS HORRIBLE.”

“Such things always are.” Asgore looked so old at that moment. “All we can do is walk away from them, and look forward to a better day. Let us eat and forget such things, for now.” Before Papyrus could stop him, his King began piling a plate high with little finger foods and party snacks, handing it off to his favorite guard once he decided it was sufficiently loaded and wandering off to chat with some others who'd arrived.

You, Toriel, Sans, and Frisk were deep in a game of Clue; he looked on, smirking as he munched on a meatball and watched you and Frisk trade a clue card under the table. 

Once done (Sans won, to the loud protest of you and Toriel as Frisk laughed), it was time for presents. He put his arm around you, leaning on the counter as you sat at the island, smiling- her people loved their Queen, and it was reflected in their gifts. Most were either handmade or personal, though he thought the handmade oil paints and card promising ten private lessons from an expert artist was a particularly inspired gift from the two of you; Toriel stroked her fingers over the paints for a moment, admiring them in their tubes with a soft smile. Frisk had gotten her tickets to a beautiful public garden upstate, and Asriel had gifted her the organization of the security forces required for the trip so that she didn't have to do so herself- a truly momentous task. Sans, meanwhile, had gotten her a huge box of ‘magic tricks to amaze’, a hundred silly little plastic wands, water-squirting flowers, and other such things that she immediately adored. Everyone there, the forty or so present, was laughing by the end…it settled Papyrus’s Soul delightfully. Having his lover safe under his arm, his beloved royals happy, his family and people safe around him…he closed his eyes for a moment, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head for the simple pleasure of doing so. 

People settled in then to snack and talk the afternoon and evening away. You dozed out in the sun in one of the comfortable hammocks there with Sans and the King, before coming back inside for some Mario Kart while Papyrus talked with some older royal guards he knew. A few hours passed in comfortable fun, and finally, he took a deep breath of relief, feeling some of the stress of the day before falling away. Frisk connected a trivia game from their laptop to the TV for those who wanted to play, which practically turned into a room-wide screaming match (all good natured) when the deciding question for the two teams had two technically correct answers. 

The trivia game ended, and he found himself poking along Toriel's extensive book collection as you and Sans played a game of checkers on the floor. The sun was down, and some of the crown attendants helping with the party were switching the food over to desserts. Frisk had left the TV on as background noise after trivia, turning it to the WBLE news channel. The station was covering the new Monster mall set to open the next day, airing interviews from the previous few weeks with various shop owners and investors. It was one of those all-day coverage affairs; Papyrus occasionally glanced over when he recognized a face or business. 

Now, he turned to ask his Queen about borrowing a specific book he'd found…and saw she was looking past him, a frown slowly creasing her lovely features. Her beautiful, musical voice carried over the happy noise of the party without even meaning to. “...oh…oh  no.”

He blinked, glancing to look at what she did- the TV -and gasped. Moments later, Asriel leapt off the couch, fumbling for the remote to turn up the broadcast.

“-at least ten injured behind me at tonight's special opening of the Ebott Parkway Mall! This is EBAL, reporting live on the grand opening, I repeat, there are visible fires and multiple injuries on site!” The broadcaster looked young, panicked and unprepared to be involved in such a terrible event- this very well might have been her first ‘on the scene’ report, now gone horribly wrong. “I-I'm not sure what we should do here Jack, I…we need to call nine-one-one, does anyone know the Monster emergency number?! Anyone?!” 

The young human woman had soot smears on her tan suit, clutching her microphone like a shield as she turned away from the camera entirely. Then the audio cut, but the footage was still rolling as she whipped around the other way. The cameraman turned too, filming the brand new Monster mall down on the river that was right behind her.

Bright orange flames were pouring out of the roof skylight in the main atrium entrance, tall and hungry, and several huge bay windows were broken and feeding the fire like chimneys. People sat or lay gasping on the ground around the prettily manicured bushes and newly-planted flowers along the entrance. Behind them, humans and Monsters alike were stumbling down the gradually sloping ramp that led up to the multiple sets of entrance doors, hand in hand and coughing madly as smoke churned all around them. One pair was horribly wounded, the man's shoulder hanging at an unnatural angle and the limb swinging sickeningly, trying his best to drag a Lamb out one-armed. She was limping hard, with a huge burn across her shoulder and chest that had eaten through her white dress and now bled silvery dust. 

Everyone watched in silent horror as the Lamb's eyes went pale and milky, her steps becoming loose and disorganized as the man turned and tried to lift her into his arms. She tripped over her own feet…and fell to the ground, her body disappearing in a huge cloud of dust, her partner visibly roaring in heartbreak as he reached for her. For a moment, the camera perfectly captured her bare white Soul fluttering madly mid-air, fighting to survive. 

Then it, too, was gone. 

“Oh my god! No!” You scrambled back from the tv where you sat on the floor, your mouth agape. Toriel and Asgore leapt to their feet and raced for the door; Papyrus ran to you as Sans helped you stand. You were wide-eyed, staring at the screen as the cameraman whipped back to the news reporter and tilted sideways, capturing a moment of her horrified expression, her hand outstretched as if she could somehow save the Lamb-

-and then the broadcast cut completely, going back to a silent newsroom of wide-eyed Humans and Monsters. 

Asgore quickly undid the watchwards he'd placed on the house for their visit, then sprinted down the front walk, Toriel close behind. They threw themselves into their huge SUV and tore off, outpacing their security in seconds. Everyone else in the room stayed quiet for a few more moments…and then exploded into a cacophony of outbursts and horror, some people frantically grabbing for their phones as others got up and left in a hurry. Sans had his arm around Catty where she sat on a loveseat, the first time the two had shown blatant affection toward each other that Papyrus had ever seen, and was murmuring something in her ear as tears overflowed from her brilliant golden eyes.

You were shaking your head and staring blindly at the screen while the newscasters stuttered and tried to figure out what to say. When Papyrus reached you, you grasped him, pointing. “Why did that happen? Honey, what just happened?!”

He didn't know how else to answer you. “SHE…DIED.”

Shaking your head, you tugged at his arm, tears rising to pool unshed in your eyes. “Yes, but it was just a…a bad burn! She could have gotten medicine, treatment, she…it wasn't that big!”

He pressed his lips together, trying to figure out how to explain it and hold himself together in the moment as well- it had been a very long (series of cycles of) time since he'd seen someone die. “IT'S DIFFERENT FOR US.”

You blinked up at him. “...what?”

Papyrus scrubbed a hand over his face- the newscasters were stuttering. One leaned forward, an older human with dark skin and kind, bright-blue eyes, a hand to his earpiece. 

“We seem to have first eyes on a tragedy happening at the new mall, folks. These are…uncharted waters. I have word that the weather and local news sections will be skipped for the next half-hour at least as we wait for more information. Please stand-by while we try to learn what we can.”

And then the news channel itself went to a holding screen, the logo on a plain blue background. 

Grabbing his hands you shook him gently, trembling. “So that’s…all it takes?! Just that? She was still walking even, still breathing, I- I don’t…I don't understand.”

He tucked you into his chest, pulling you backwards a few steps so he could sit on the couch and pull you down beside him; its previous loungers, Asriel and Frisk, had left at a sprint seconds after the two rulers. “IF IT WAS BY ACCIDENT? THEN NO. PROBABLY NOT. BUT IF SOMEONE SET THE FIRE ON PURPOSE, TO HURT MONSTERS? THEN THE INTENTION…IT COULD HAVE CARRIED OVER TO WHATEVER HAPPENED TO HER FROM IT.”

You went quiet for a long time as he stroked your back, his mind racing. 

Someone was missing something. The fire was obviously intentionally set, burning too hot and too bright to be ‘normal’ even in that brief moment of the broadcast that he'd seen. The mall was all new build, iron beams and concrete; there wasn't enough fuel inside to allow for such a hot flame in the short amount of time it must have been burning. Plus the broken windows, all much higher than a person could reach to break and jump out- those were intentional too. More oxygen for the fire, more fuel to make the flame as devastating as possible, as quickly as possible. Yet Monsters had peppered the place with warding spells, had covered every corner with mundane security systems and Dogs standing guard. 

How did the fucker get in? How did they do it??? How did no Dog or spell notice the sound of six twelve-foot, double-paned windows shattering, or the enormous atrium skylight? That should have been automatically reported the second it happened, the spells screaming and the guard's Dogtags snapping to alert to a true emergency. And how did someone slip that much accelerant into a building crawling with vendors and security alike? The damn thing was burning like a gas station, with huge, bright ribbons of flame feeding off of something…but what?

After fifteen minutes or so the broadcast cut in again; you sat forward, watching, as Catty and Sans came to lean against the back of the couch the two of you were on to do the same. Other Monsters around the room gathered in too, everyone wide eyed and scared.

It was the same woman as before. She'd moved back toward the river, standing next to her news van as countless vehicles and people flooded onto the scene behind her.

“First responders are calling it the worst fire they've seen for a long time in Ebott city. Fire trucks, tankers, and ambulances have started to arrive, as well as magical mitigation teams from Northern AND Eastern Monster emergency services. More are on their way. Unbelievably, we've confirmed that fire rescue received word of the fire moments before it started, the report called in by the person claiming to be responsible for setting it…”

“They want attention,” you murmured softly, your eyes strangely lit by the flames on the screen as the camera man zoomed in on the mall. “They wanted it to be seen by lots of people, to show off how hard it would be to fight. So they called it in to brag, but not in enough time to stop it. They're escalating.”

Sans nodded behind you, and Papyrus grimaced. “I'M SCARED THAT YOU'RE RIGHT.”

Time passed. People trickled away from the ruined party, as the four of you watched the broadcast switch between shots of the emergency vehicles arriving and slow pans back and forth of the damage. No more deaths were visible, thank the stars, and paramedics had begun arriving along with firefighters. The latter were fully suited, running into the smoking building to search for trapped visitors as trucks began to pour water over the worst sections within.

“that's amazin’, to me. nothing existed that could keep you all from being burned, that would let you breathe…so you made it. like a suit of armor almost.” Sans pointed at the firefighters. “they look scary as hell though.”

You nodded. “Yeah…they have events at elementary schools and fire halls and stuff, with firemen dressed up in all the different versions of their suits. That way kids can get close and learn to not be afraid of them, so they don't get scared during a real emergency.”

“huh. smart.”

“It's crazy that you all even get scared by each other. Can't you tell that the other person is a human?” Catty's voice was uncharacteristically quiet. Shaking your head, you leaned back against the back of the couch and closed your eyes for a minute while Papyrus looked on. “Not really. We can't sense Souls like you guys can.”

“Oh…right.” The other woman shook her head, picking at a claw as she sniffed. “I don't understand how this happened. Why didn't any alarm spell go off the second a spark caught? The whole palace should have known, everyone's watching for fires now.”

Papyrus shook his head. “I DON'T KNOW EITHER.” A new worry had entered his awareness- Frisk would be tearing themselves in half over this, trying to decide if this was bad enough to warrant a reset. In fact…

He stood, motioning to Sans. “COME OVER INTO THE KITCHEN WITH ME, BROTHER. I WANNA ASK YOU SOMETHING.” He cast an apologetic look at you. “I’M SORRY, IT'S…GOVERNMENT STUFF.” It was only half a lie. You waved it off easily, clutching Catty’s hand in your own as the two of you watched the screen. “I get it, don't apologize.” 

Sans followed him out into the Dreemur’s enormous kitchen, looking haunted. “sup?”

“I…AM GOING TO BREAK A PROMISE, JUST NOW.” When Sans frowned, cocking his head, Papyrus grimaced. “AND I GUESS IT WILL TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE THAT MIGHT BOTHER YOU AT THE SAME TIME. BUT I THINK THE END RESULT, IF I DIDN'T TELL YOU, WOULD BOTHER YOU MORE. IT CERTAINLY DID, OVER AND OVER AGAIN. A LONG TIME AGO.”

Now his brother looked concerned, his voice a low murmur. “okay…what's wrong? do you know something?”

“YEAH, BUT NOT HOW YOU THINK.” Oh, how to say this, how to say this…Papyrus fully turned away for a moment, hating the weight he was about to simultaneously add and lift from the other man’s back. “bro?”

When he found it, stuck somewhere in his chest, Papyrus's own voice was quieter than he'd ever heard it. “FRISK MIGHT RESET, NOW. THE LAMB…I SAW THEIR FACE. THEY CAN'T STAND SEEING PEOPLE GET HURT.” He didn't dare look up at Sans. “THEY SAVE EVERY MORNING, THEY'VE TOLD ME…SO THE DAY MIGHT REPEAT. I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GET SICK OR SCARED IF IT DOES.”

There was a moment of silence as what he'd said, and the implications of it, sank into the older man. Then Sans fully turned, walked away, and let himself out the backdoor of the patio without another word, closing the door behind himself.

Papyrus let a huge sigh out through his nose- he didn't know if this was the right choice at all. But he remembered how sickening, how traumatic the resets had been for this brother…was the forewarning worth the knowledge that his last living family member, the baby brother who Sans had done his damnedest to protect and preserve over all those countless years, knew so much more than Sans had ever guessed he did?

You came over to him, leaving Catty on the couch as she spoke to someone softly on the phone. “Everything okay?”

“YES AND NO. WE'LL SEE. OH BUNNY, WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE WORLD…” 

You looked up at him, the oddest expression on your face for a moment as you looked him over, as if you'd learned or realized something new about him. “I…I don't know either. Do you want to go home?”

“...YEAH.” He went over to Catty. “I THINK I UPSET MY BROTHER. HE WENT OUTSIDE, WOULD YOU CHECK ON HIM?” 

She nodded, mouthing, “Sure” as she listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. One of Toriel's closest assistants had recruited a few other people to help put things away in the kitchen; it was plain the party was ruined. He said his goodbyes quickly, then cast his magic out in a wave before opening the front door; call him paranoid now, but he was imagining arsonists and suicidal murderers behind every doorway and manicured rose bush. When he sensed nothing out of the ordinary, he led you to his car. You got in, oddly quiet and ponderous, but he hesitated. Was it insane to check….?

So be it. He dropped to his knees, shining his phone flashlight under his car, looking for any unusual new additions. Nothing drew his eye.

When he got in the driver's seat, you nodded at him. “I wanted you to look, but I was afraid to sound crazy.”

“I DON'T THINK THAT'S CRAZY ANYMORE.” He shot a quick text to one of the others he knew inside, advising that they tell everyone else to do the same before they left.

The two of you rode home in silence; he let Cheese out as you went and changed into house clothing, emerging in sweatpants and a t-shirt while he fed the pup. You followed him, watching silently as he puttered around the house, before sitting on the couch next to him and turning the news back on. They were interviewing the fire chief now.

When you turned, your murmur was so quiet it was nearly inaudible.

“So…that's all that it would take? Just one hateful person, hurting you one time?”

Shaking his head, he turned on the couch so he could hug you fully, propping his legs up on the cushion and pulling you between them. “IT DOESN'T DO ANY GOOD TO THINK LIKE THAT. BESIDES, I'M PRETTY TOUGH TO HURT! I AM COMBAT TRAINED, YOU KNOW.” There was something flaring hot and harsh in your Soul, like broken glass and boiling water. Anger. Protectiveness. 

“I helped design that mall. Other people worked on it too of course, but almost all of the main area was mine. My last big project as an intern. And someone turned it into a…a death trap.”

Huh. “I DIDN'T KNOW THAT…I'M SORRY. I REALLY AM.”

Your face was bleak. “I start work officially in November as a full architect…and because the mall was built with grants from the palace, they went through the city to get the design…now it's ruined. People are dead.”

Turning away from the TV, you threw your arms around his shoulders, curling onto his hold entirely and hiding your face in his chest. “I just…I just can't believe it. That's all it takes, all it takes…god what if we were there? What if you were there?”

He squeezed you gently. “STOP IT.” Reaching out with his magic, he used it to turn the TV off again, praying that no one he knew or loved had been in the mall. That night's soft opening, as far as he knew, was a small, private event; the main public opening was to be the next day. Toriel and Asgore were supposed to be there to celebrate all the Monster stores moving in. 

That plan was ruined now. Even if the fire was mostly contained to the atrium, as he prayed it was, the smoke damage was going to be a hefty bill for every single shop inside.

You fell silent, but the feeling from your Soul didn't abate. After some time, you kissed him very gently, then went to bed, pulling the blankets up over your head- Papyrus felt the moment you fell asleep. 

And then he came to a decision.

He stood, stretching, then sat down in the middle of your floor. Rolling his neck for a moment, he cracked his back, shook out his arms, and went completely still, his palms pressed to the carpet. Cheese laid down at his feet, his bright brown eyes sharp.

It was time to do something. 

…

…

…

‘HELLO THERE, HOME OF MY GIRLFRIEND. THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME BE HERE. NOW, I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP.’

‘WAKE UP.’

‘WAKE. UP.’

“....”

‘...?’

‘SORRY TO BOTHER YOU, BUT THERE'S SOME UGLY THINGS HAPPENING IN THE WORLD. I NEED YOU TO WAKE UP NOW. WE NEED TO WORK TOGETHER TO KEEP HER SAFE.’

‘...’

‘...’

‘....awake.’

‘GOOD, LET'S GET STARTED. FIRST, I NEED YOU TO BE VERY, VERY BRAVE. CAN YOU DO THAT? CAN YOU BE BRAVE ENOUGH TO PROTECT HER?’

‘...her.’

A flash- a soft touch on banisters and carved paneling, of someone using gentle chemicals to strip off layers of ugly paint to reveal the beautiful wood beneath, of someone spending time on her hands and knees to scrub the stains out of grout left by long years of disuse. 

Singing. Sounds from devices. A happy little creature that played and danced when she was here, and missed her when she was gone. 

‘...yes. Her.’

‘SOMEONE WANTS TO HURT PEOPLE. SOMEONE IS HURTING PEOPLE. BURNING. FIRES. SMOKE AND CHOKING. THEY MIGHT TRY TO HURT HER. BURN HER AND SMOKE HER AND CHOKE HER INSIDE YOU.’

No more singing. No more care. No more good smells in the morning or happiness within its walls.

‘...’

‘... no.’

‘IT MAKES ME ANGRY TOO. WILL YOU LET ME MAKE YOU BRAVE? IT WILL CHANGE YOU. FOREVER. YOU'LL NEVER SLEEP AGAIN.’

‘...’

‘...’

‘...brave.’ 

‘OKAY. LET'S GET STARTED.’

…

From outside, late-night passerby may have stopped to wonder, for just a moment, at the odd orange glow coming from around the curtained windows. A pulsing, steadily brightening light that soon flashed once, twice, thrice…and faded. 

He doubled over, retching- the bile came up boiling hot, making him moan in pain. His saliva sizzled and steamed where it hit the ground, dripping from his gaping mouth as he leaned against a tree, clutching his stomach with one arm and weeping in agony. Over and over, molten vomit and bile worked its way up his throat, flash-cooking the flesh there and turning his lips pink and scaley with its heat. His teeth hurt, aching and loose in his jaw as the inside layers of flesh fell away from his cheeks and gums, the delicate mucous membranes destroyed. 

Slowly, it abated. He groaned, stumbling a few steps back from where the puddle of vomit now steamed and smoked- a few little twigs and bits of dry grass were catching, the tiny tongues of orange flames flickering in the dark. That made him smile, despite the pain. He continued backing away, regaining his footing as his body healed from the damage- the boiling, churning sickness in his gut only doubled him over twice more as he backed through the woods. The first time he'd done this, the agony had left him sobbing, curled on his side in an alley, his head lolling in the disgusting, greasy water dripping from the corner of the dumpster he was hiding behind as he vomited molten bile onto the asphalt. He hadn't known then how to encourage himself to heal, how to feel better quicker and quicker after such work. He hadn't learned how to lean into the sticky, wet forces of protection that the beasts put around their properties, how to push his face and body through them like thick cobwebs, brushing them aside and silencing them with a cruel pinch of the sizzling fingers in his mind when they began to sing warnings. He'd gotten lucky back then; a water hookup had been nearby, allowing his past self to douse himself and the trash around him before it began to burn.

Now, he was better. 

He could control the heat, to an extent, could swallow back the seething, searing power until he was a safe distance away from where he'd worked. He'd even started to learn how to reach; reach through the phone, through the screen of his laptop, and grasp the ones he spoke to there. Gripping them somehow, in a way he didn't understand but felt right and good and powerful. Making them strong, making them brave - useless, empty people that they were, finally given purpose by him. Given the courage to do what needed to be done

They should be grateful to him. He was doing something that they'd never done with their own lives- he was making them important. Letting them do important work. 

As his stomach settled, as it began to abate, the fire retreating back up his throat and into that weird, hollow feeling in his chest, he smirked to himself, picking up his pace through the trees until he reached the empty park where he'd left his car. That done, he drove into town, giggling with delight at the countless emergency vehicles that sped past him. As a reward to himself, he stopped at a drive through, ordering a milkshake. 

It was a long drive back home, after all. 

Chapter Text

Something made you wake up far too early the next morning. Bleary-eyed and confused for a second, you reached down…ah. It made you smile sleepily. Papyrus was a, how to put it…an active sleeper, sometimes. You'd started giving him his own comforter so his nighttime acrobatics would result in only himself being tangled up inexorably in it. 

This was far cuter than his usual escapades, though. He'd scooted down in the bed, ending up facing you with his arms wrapped around your thighs and his face pressed into your belly. He must have just moved when you woke up- it made something in your heart pinch to look down at him. You knew he was strong, immensely talented, apparently even a bit well-off…you knew he was important to his people, gifted in so many ways…but all of that paled in comparison to how precious he was to you, in that moment. His sweetness, his kindness, the almost innocent nature that ran down to the very core of his being… that was what you treasured more than anything about your man. 

And he loved you. He loved you. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, casting a prayer up to whatever unseen God might be listening, or perhaps the very Stars that his people prayed to.

‘Please keep him safe. Don't let him be hurt. I love him so damn much.’

A fluttering touch on your fingertip made you glance down; one of your hands was resting on his back, a finger sitting just between his rib bones. Now his Soul fluttered there gently, resting against you. After staring at the wondrous little thing for a few moments, you realized it was pulsing in time with your own heartbeat. Your eyes filled and overflowed; you didn't even really know why. It just seemed so…important, somehow. That the thing that was Papyrus, the heart and soul and mind and core of him, would dance in time with the part of you that kept you alive. 

You reached up to wipe away a silly tear; he grumbled in his sleep at the loss of your touch on his head. It made you laugh softly even as more streamed down your face- you had the terrible urge to squeeze his sweet, silly, sexy self until he popped, just to relieve the overwhelming affection threatening to swamp you. Then he shifted, squeezing you closer and murmuring what might have been your name- was he dreaming about you? You glanced at his Soul again, still touching your fingertip…hmmm…

Gently, so gently, you stroked a finger over it, and thought at it as hard as you could. Not words so much as feelings, memories. How your belly had flipped over from his attention, that first fateful walk along the river. How you loved seeing the royal gardens with him, and loved his knowledge of the flowers within even more. The way he'd looked particularly handsome last week when he'd laughed at something online. A little package of your life together so far, one that you wished would take root within him somehow, though you didn't know if you could affect his Soul at all this way, being a magic-less human…

But no. To your astonishment, it sparkled - there was no other word for it. A glimmer that spread from top to bottom and back again, and when it was done, his Soul was a little brighter than it had been before. You remembered that poor Lamb earlier, how he'd said intention was what harmed her rather than the injury itself…could that go the opposite direction? Was that what was happening here? 

‘I love you’ you thought, reaching in through his ribs to cup your hand around it fully. It was like holding sunshine itself- your vision glowed orange around the edges like you had your face tilted up at the sky during a sunny day. ‘I love you, and you love me…and we're happy. We're a good fit. I like a lot of the same things as you, but also enough of different things that we have plenty to talk about…and you're very handsome and charming too, when you're not being an enormous goofball. Oh hell, even when you ARE being a goofball.” That same shimmering wave happened again- this time, you felt it, warmth flaring against your palm for just a second. 

When his broad hand ran down your thigh and back up again, you didn't jump, but the movement startled you enough that you let go of his Soul, taking a breath. You hadn't noticed the soft, wakeful glow of his gaze, too enthralled by the invisible orange glow of his magic to see it until now. He looked oddly…somber, for him, though his eyelights were diffuse and soft with sleepiness. 

You blushed, you could feel it- how long had he been awake? How long had you been laying there, thinking mush and nonsense at his Soul? Did he know?

“FRISK ALWAYS SAYS THEY HAVE SO MUCH MORE TO LOSE THAN THEY DID BEFORE…I GET IT NOW, I THINK.” His voice was hoarse with sleep, soft and ponderous- he gazed up into your eyes, threading a hand into your hair, but you didn't think the words were meant for you. He sounded…distant. “EVEN IF I DIDN'T REMEMBER, LIKE SANS DOES, I'D STILL REACH FOR YOU EVERY NIGHT…AND I DON'T KNOW HOW LONG I COULD TAKE THAT.” He ran his thumb delicately under your eye, then across your lips. “I DIDN'T REALIZE HOW LONELY I WAS UNTIL I MET YOU. UNTIL THIS.” 

More tears- he caught one on his thumb, still staring up at you. His other arm was wrapped up over your hips, his fingers splayed wide across your ass. “WHAT'S WRONG?” 

You shook your head- it was too much to possibly explain out loud right in the moment, with sleep and the stress of the night before dragging at you. You also weren't sure what he was talking about- every Monster carried something secret and wounded and broken in their hearts from their time under the Mountain, and you assumed this might be related to that. So instead, you leaned down, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I want you to be happy.” The words left you without you meaning them to, like a spell; unintended, but absolutely meant. “In everything you do, I want you to be happy.” 

Papyrus closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath. Then, a non-sequitur; “IF I EVER SEE YOUR EX, I'M GOING TO HURT HIM, I THINK. A LITTLE. I'M SORRY IF YOU DON'T WANT ME TO, I DON'T THINK I CAN HELP MYSELF.” 

The sensible side of you had plenty to say about that. The womanly side drowned every last bit of it out, melting like goo in the face of his somber sincerity. So instead of arguing with him, or saying it would be a bad idea, or anything else like that…you only nodded. “Then make sure he knows I'm happy, too.” He blinked up at you. “Make sure he knows I haven't even thought of him in months.”

The smile that broke across his face at that was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. “DEAL.”

Neither of you said anything again after that oddly-charged exchange. Soon, you fell back asleep, lulled by the gentle touch of his hand stroking up and down your back.

-

Undyne called for him early that morning, as rain began to patter against the bedroom window. She wouldn't say why on the phone, though Papyrus asked twice; you could hear a little of her side of the conversation through the speaker. 

“I just…I want someone here that I know I can trust, okay? I want someone here who's got my fucking back.”

He'd frowned, but promised to be there in minutes. That's when you got a call from your director. 

You answered, bleary- you weren't supposed to even be up for another hour to get ready for work. “Mmmhello?”

Katrynn sounded weary to the bone, her all-business voice thin with exhaustion. “You're off, for the next two weeks at least. We all are. I…assume you saw the news last night?”

All sleepiness left you in a rush. “Yeah I did, what's-”

“Tina was there with her husband, he had a storefront. She's in the hospital, but…it's not good. I'll say that much, though I shouldn't. If you want to go see her, you probably should do it soon.” A deep breath. “The one doing this, the one they're calling The Firebug? They made a threat against us on some forum last night. By name, everyone in our department. For ‘helping the rats move into the city.’ Me, you, Garrett…everyone.”

Papyrus froze where he was getting dressed, turning to stare at you. 

“Other departments too. Welfare, public service, zoning…its a list of over a hundred and fifty names, all county employees.”

Your voice was soft when it left your lips. “...a list of targets.”

“Probably.” That was Katrynn for you, always sharp and straight to the point. “You and your new partner were dead on when you directed the investigation toward our work. The little fuc…the Firebug- ” she changed what she'd been about to say, as you heard one of her grandchildren call for her in the background “-has a connection to the city somehow. They have to. To know what projects were publicly funded before? To be able to get around so unseen?” She sighed. “There's FBI in our office as we speak, making copies of every chat log and email any of us have ever sent, pulling lists of every volunteer that's ever helped us, and they're doing it at all the other city offices too. Stay home, stay sharp. Keep your phone on you. I'll…let you know if anything changes.”

“Okay.” The word left you as a whisper. “Okay.”

And she hung up.

You blinked at Papyrus, who stared at you a moment longer before shaking himself and sliding on a dark jacket- you hadn't even known he owned something so muted, nor that it was in your closet. His entire outfit was dark, unassuming- dark jeans, dark coat, dark t-shirt underneath. If he pulled up his hood and tucked his hands in his pockets, he'd look like any other tall man…and then you realized, perhaps, that was the point. None of his usual love for color and brightness was present; a moment spent fading into a crowd and he'd blend right in.

“Please be careful,” you murmured, suddenly scared for him and not knowing why exactly. He nodded. “I WILL BE. I'M REALLY SORRY ABOUT YOUR COWORKER.”

Three steps brought him to your side of the bed- he bent and squeezed you in such a tight hug that the breath squeaked out of you. “I'LL TEXT YOU WHEN I CAN, OKAY? IF ANYTHING HAPPENS AND I DON'T ANSWER, CALL SANS, OR JUST GO STRAIGHT TO OUR PLACE.”

Then he was gone, trotting down your stairs; you heard the jingle of keys, and your front door opening and closing. Cheese jumped up on the bed and nosed under the blankets, tucking himself tight to your side; he could tell something was wrong. You hugged him to your chest, and tried not to think of fires.

It was odd. Human and monster investigators roamed over every inch of the burnt-out mall and its surrounding area, a suburban little shopping district that bordered a large park to the east side of the city…but Undyne wasn't there. Instead, he was directed past the mall, past the parking lot and even the edge of the property, toward a stand of trees that apparently slowly blended into the park proper. Grumbling in his throat about the rain, Papyrus jogged over, dodging people and equipment and yellow tape. As he went, he noticed something else odd; there was a subtly defined line where the investigation switched over to entirely Monsters. No humans at all were in sight when he pushed through a stand of dense bushes and finally approached Undyne, leaning up against a tree and staring at something on the bramble and weed-covered ground. Everyone was giving her a wide berth, though there were pieces of magical equipment set up there that he'd never seen before. 

And wasn't her presence here strange enough? Toriel hadn't been wrong before, all those weeks ago- Undyne had no patience for investigations. The new guards were in full-time training, requiring all her attention. So why was she here?  

She glanced up at him, then looked down again, holding something to her eye. He looked where she did and frowned; a dark scorch mark nearly two feet across was visible on the ground, the surrounding brush burnt and crumbling. 

Undyne didn't look up, but when he stepped up next to her, she held out the thing in her hand for him to see. It was a little river stone no larger than the first joint of his thumb. The water had worn a hole through it, leaving other spots on the rock pitted. 

Every single thought in his head crashed to a halt at the sight of that deceptively-innocent little stone. His ideas about ways of entering the mall? Vanished. His imagined pathways the arsonist could have taken to move the required amount of fuel into the building? Gone. 

Any Monster in the kingdom, from the youngest child to the oldest elder, would know why someone would peer through a holey stone. What they'd be looking for if they did. For they featured in countless nursery rhymes, fairy tales…even historical stories. 

Undyne finally met his eye. Hers were bloodshot.

“It's a mage.” 

-

“WE KNEW IT WAS POSSIBLE.” They sat side by side in the back of an empty box truck, getting clear of the rain and watching people trot back and forth. The equipment that had been within it was now set up throughout the patch of forest that held that terrible sign within it, covered in tarps as they all waited for the weather to ease. “FROM THE SECOND FRISK BROKE THE BARRIER, WE KNEW IT WAS POSSIBLE. THAT OTHERS COULD WAKE UP, ALL AROUND THE WORLD.” 

Undyne nodded, tossing the little stone up into the air and catching it, over and over. “Yeah. Sucks for us though; Alph says, cause of this rain, we might not be able to get any impressions at all. It's apparently really good at washing away human magic and shit.”

“THE DOGS?”

“Followed his trail to where he'd parked his car, about two miles further east in the state park itself- found the tire tracks and a few footprints. They're sure it's a dude now, not a chick using a voice changer. Doggo said it smells like a dude.” 

“GREAT.” He let his head *thunk* into the metal side of the truck. “PEACHY.”

“An orange mage, he could smell that too. Fire and emboldened troops, according to some old-as-fuck book Alphie has. Explosions. War magic.” 

“DELIGHTFUL. OF COURSE IT WOULD BE.” 

She snorted at his response. “Right? Couldn't be, oh, I dunno, a green mage. Taking revenge by making our flowers grow really good and helping sick people get better.” A moment's silence. “If you had to guess…why? Knee-jerk answer.”

“KNEE-JERK ANSWER?” He hummed. “I DON'T HAVE ONE.” He gestured out at the people rushing back and forth, clad in plastic ponchos and rain jackets as the sky got darker and thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. “SOME OF THEM HATE OTHER HUMANS BECAUSE THEY’RE THE ‘WRONG’ COLOR, OR FROM THE ‘WRONG’ COUNTRY. THEY'RE NOT LOGICAL.” 

She grimaced. There was another crack of thunder, closer. “We aren't getting shit done today, I can tell. Was it even supposed to keep raining?” 

Papyrus shrugged. His mind was racing a mile a minute, barely paying attention to anything she was saying or asking. Like any crime, this was a logic puzzle, one where he was afraid that everyone else would start focusing on the wrong thing. The presence of an unknown mage was terrifying, yes. But they obviously weren't a great mage, or else the entire mall would be gone at least. And Monsters could handle a normal mage, given numbers and time to prepare. 

The important question was still why? Why do it? What was this person's situation in life, that the moment they discovered their own near miraculous abilities, they decided to use them to target an entire race of people? He felt down to his very marrow that the ‘why’ would lead to the ‘who’. 

Another Monster came trotting up to them then, her sleek fur shedding water. They leaned apart, giving the Otter room to leap up into the box truck on all fours. “Hi. I work with Doctor Alphys-” Undyne nodded, seemingly recognizing her “-the storm's supposed to last until tonight, rain until tomorrow evening or night at least. We'll bring the machines out afterward, see if we can pick up any traces. For now, she says to keep working in the mall itself, even though the magic is a lot more dilute there cuz of all the other spells, and we have to be careful around the humans.” She shook herself off, careful not to splash them. “I love this weather, but it sucks for work like this. The perfect isolated sample, and it's gonna be washed away for sure.” 

“ANY OTHER NEWS?” 

“Tons.” She shook her head. “But how much of it is useful? The names of all the companies that the different store owners used to move stuff in. The names of the three major construction companies hired to work on the place. Tipp wants the name of every single worker from all of those places that ever stepped foot here, and that's going to take a long time. Plus, the company that owned the land before, and the owner of it- is that important? He seems to think so, but there's only so many eyes and ears available to find all these people. Apparently the King and Queen practically had to bully the guy into selling to Monsters, but if we decided every bigot in the city was a potential suspect, we'd need another ten thousand investigators. Oh, and the electrical box at the junction out on the road was tampered with. Fire alarms were digital, all turned off. That's the only new thing we've learned today, besides…well. The really scary thing.” 

Undyne propped her chin in her hand, her other arm crossed over her chest as she gazed out at the rain. “So all we know right now is that the fucker is a mage, is probably pretty familiar with the electric, water, and gas hookups for the city, as well as the sewer, thanks to you and your girl-” she gestured at Papyrus “-and that he's good enough with computers to be basically untraceable online while having enough money to afford the equipment to BE untraceable. That's something the human investigators pointed out today- it's expensive to be that anonymous. And hardly anyone would know how to do it besides.”

“A RICH COMPUTER NERD WHO POTENTIALLY WORKS ‘BOOTS ON THE GROUND’ FOR A UTILITY COMPANY? IT MAKES NO SENSE. I DON'T THINK THEY PAY THAT MUCH.” Papyrus flicked a little bit of fuzz off his sleeve as he talked. “WE'RE MISSING ALL THE CONNECTING PIECES.”

The Otter sighed. “Too much information, and no way to filter it. Oh well, I only came over to warn you guys, cuz we're going to need to start packing up the truck soon. The Doctor was looking for you, Captain, if you’d go to her?”

Undyne nodded, pushing herself off the back of the truck just as Papyrus noticed a flutter of black and red disappear into the woods. He hopped out too, jogging over; as he'd expected, Frisk was there, crouching over the spot as Monsters packed up supplies all around them. They pretended not to, but every single person's eyes were on the young mage, hoping for some magical miracle that they themselves were incapable of. 

Frisk ignored all of them, clad in a long, waterproof black duster with a shockingly scarlet jumpsuit underneath. They had a hat on, something between a flat cap and a newsboy, and heavy, dark eyeliner, and for the first time, Papyrus distantly noted that his friend was a uniquely attractive individual. Odd that he'd never noticed before. Being with you made him see those things in the world around himself more clearly, now. 

“They were proud of themselves,” Frisk murmured, running their hand just over the surface of the soil. In the other, they had an absolutely ancient book held open, its pages glimmering with the strongest protection and preservation spells Papyrus had ever seen. Something from the royal library then, something to do with mages and their magics. He wondered if his brother had ever read it too. Under Frisk’s palm, tiny bits of scorched dirt floated like iron filings following a magnet, drifting as they slowly brushed their hand back and forth. “They were proud, and…there was someone who they did it for. But not like a command. Like a present.”

Papyrus crouched beside them, heedless of the rain as it finally began to fall between the thick branches overhead. He said nothing, just waited. Just like Asgore had taught him. Frisk flipped a page one handed- on it, a human Soul was sketched out of one continuous line like some sort of riotous, infinitesimally intricate tribal tattoo, the ancient pigment bright orange on the parchment page.  Around it, symbols and runes Papyrus didn't know, occasionally pointing to one tiny curve or angle within the Soul drawing as if to differentiate it from all the others. 

Frisk cleared their throat- they didn't usually talk so much aloud, and it was obvious they'd been doing a lot of talking that day. “This was a mistake, though. Too hot. Too much. They had to get rid of it…it was hurting them.”

He thought back to his childhood days, the occasional time that, when he'd overextended and pulled too much magic into a working, it had burned him terribly. He vaguely remembered his hands, glowing with out-of-control orange fire as Sans raced over with a prepared pitcher of cold water. He remembered the Queen soothing him, healing a burn that had scorched the inside of his eye socket, how he'd teared up sickly with the pain of it as soon as he was away from the watching eyes of the other trainees. 

He’d taught himself cerulean blue magic before he'd been old enough to know that shouldn't have been possible, copying his brother just like Sans had copied Gaster’s sunshine yellow in an effort to thaw his own cold, slow Soul. The blue had cooled him, helped him control the riot of orange magic inside himself. The warmer the spectrum of magic, the hotter it burned, after all- he and Gaster, right next to each other, orange and yellow. Sans was the odd one out, somehow born a cool cerulean. 

Sometimes Papyrus wondered if Sans should have been born with red magic, only something had gone wrong. Red like the King. It seemed to fit him so much better. 

Frisk's voice startled him out of his musings; they were holding their hand palm up now in front of their own eyes, murmuring his name. Papyrus felt his jaw drop for a moment- he closed it quickly. Somehow, somehow , as Frisk had focused on this other mage and collected ash from the ground, the black dust had formed into a tiny, perfect image of a person. This was human magic to the purest degree- he had absolutely no idea what he was looking at or the theory behind its working. But Frisk held it up to him. “Look.”

A young human man, three inches tall, caught in a rictus of pain, bent almost double as one hand leaned against something- the tree, undoubtedly -while the other clutched their stomach. He was wearing a zippered coat with a hood- the hood was up, covering his hair. The image was solid black, but Papyrus could fill the colors in with his imagination easily; the vomit spewing from this tiny image's mouth would be glowing molten hot, magic half-worked into reality and half in its aetherical form. 

“Take a picture. I can't hold it.” There was a misting of sweat on Frisk's pale forehead. Their hand was shaking. Papyrus did, using one hand to hold their wrist steady as he captured every angle of it that he could, getting as close to the amazingly-detailed face as possible without it being blurry. “Didn't even think I could do…this.” 

Finally, the strain was too much. Frisk sagged against their friend as the image fell to plain ash in their palm, immediately turned into dark sludge by the rain falling. “I DOUBT YOU'LL BE ABLE TO DO IT AGAIN SOON. THIS RAIN IS RIDICULOUS.” Papyrus waited for Frisk to catch their breath, taking the book from their hand so they could press both palms to their ruby-red eyes for a moment. He'd noticed at the party yesterday that the color had begun to bleed from their irises into the sclera itself; in a few years, their physical eyes would be the same solid color the whole way through. The only physical mark that differentiated a Great Mage. 

When they pulled their hands away, it was to sign, “Mom's been teaching Asriel how to stop a human's heart from a distance. Just in case.” 

It wasn't surprising, though it was a sad thing indeed to hear. “UGH, HOW MORBID.” Papyrus shivered theatrically. “DISGUSTING JUICY THINGS, JUMPING AND JIGGLING INSIDE YOU.” 

Frisk grinned a little, as he'd known they would. “Maybe we'll get lucky. Maybe this guy will burn himself up?” 

Papyrus doubted it. The same orange power that could injure its user so terribly also gave a sort of innate, subtle immunity to it. It would burn- oh, it would burn -but it wouldn't kill. (Morbidly, it occurred to him that it must have been the impact that killed Gaster, not the lava…yellow magic was still too warm to allow the heat to have done it. Ugh. The gloom and doom of the day was making him darkly nostalgic.) “HOPEFULLY. HERE, LET ME SEND THESE PICTURES TO YOU. THEY NEED TO TURN THEM INTO SKETCHES, AND GET THOSE SKETCHES PLASTERED ACROSS TOWN.” 

“Agreed. I'll tell dad, he's in the mall. It's pretty bad in there, but it would be useful for you to see it. You wanna come?”

“...NO. BUT I'LL DO IT ANYWAY.

Thank god for magic. Glass had been magically shaped to repair the shattered windows and destroyed atrium skylight-roof. He could see the glimmers of white power still occasionally sparkling over the newly replaced things, so fresh were they. Monsters must have been working all night to undo those signs of damage, at least, and it must have cost a small fortune to the crown to have done so. Fabrication magic was expensive . The marble tile floors were untouched so far though, with huge black scorch marks spreading from them and up the painted white walls. Everywhere inside showed signs of damage, despite human and monster crews working constantly to carry out bin after bin of blackened and destroyed things. Scaffolding and workbenches competed with Monster technology and fabrication altars for space, and huge magical light-crystals gave everything an eerie, back-lit glow.

He stood in the center of this main room that you'd designed, the entrance to the building and commenting hub between the two long sides of the ‘L’ that the mall was shaped like…and Papyrus swore he could feel your touch here. Was it his imagination, to see your empathy in the many built-in benches and seats that flowed seamlessly into raised indoor plant beds and a large central fountain? Your sensibility, in the curves and arches of the ceiling that allowed even the meager sunlight that fought its way through the storm to bounce and increase the ambient light within?

The fountain had been turned off, and many of the indoor plants had been destroyed as people fought to escape. He pocketed a tiny uprooted one after wrapping it in a shop towel that he dampened in the water, hoping it would be enough to keep it alive until he got it home to you. The human construction worker had cocked a curious brow at him when he'd asked for one of the towels off the roll, but softened when he saw what Papyrus did. “Here-” The man dumped the dregs of his Styrofoam cup of coffee out, and handed it to him. “Maybe it'll keep better in that. You can add more water that way.” 

Papyrus nodded, grateful for the reminder that not every human was an evil creature out to harm him. “THANKS. MY GIRLFRIEND DESIGNED THIS PLACE. I WANTED TO TAKE SOMETHING OF IT BACK TO HER.” 

The man grimaced. “Sorry to hear it. It was pretty, I was gonna bring my mom here.” He motioned to the back of the atrium, where the small food court was. It was plainly where the fire had started, and was completely sectioned off with tape. One corner of the roof had caved in there. “A real shame.”

“YEAH.” Papyrus suddenly felt terribly, miserably tired. He didn't want to be in this place, a reminder of at least one death, and maybe more. A reminder of some sick, cruel person somewhere, blessed by fate with the power to do such evil again and again. But King Asgore was standing at the edge of the taped off area, staring at it with his arms crossed, and Papyrus knew his duty. He walked over to his king, waiting until Asgore noticed him before bowing. As he'd expected, Asgore gave him a gruff flap of the hand. “Stop that, I'm not in the mood for it, and never from you.” He turned back to stare at the five tiled restaurant units, now destroyed beyond repair. Everything within would have to be replaced- equipment, supplies, everything. The chairs and tables surrounding them had melted . “Look at this mess.”

“A GAS LINE, I GUESS?” Papyrus pointed to where the concrete wall at the back of one of the booths had visibly exploded outward. To his surprise, Asgore shook his head. “A small freezer, he used it like an oversized pressure cooker bomb. Thank the gods there'd been no one back there last night.” 

“ANY ACCELERANT? ANY FUEL?” 

The huge man shook his head again, and Papyrus felt a sinking feeling in his Soul. “HE'S GETTING BETTER, THEN. HE DOESN'T NEED SOMETHING PHYSICAL FOR THE MAGIC TO GRIP ON TO ANYMORE.” 

“I'd assume so as well.” He sighed, the movement making the huge slabs of muscle over his back ripple under his shirt. “ I will offer prayers at the Star Temple tonight, in thanks that your lady thought it prudent to add physically triggered fire extinguishers as well as the digitally controlled ones in the kitchens. They couldn't stop the initial explosion, but they kicked on even when the power was out for all the others; the generators hadn't been hooked up yet, you see. The foam makes an unholy mess to clean up apparently, but it dampened the initial hottest flames.” He pointed, and Papyrus saw it now- yellowish-orange stuff was mixed with the burned debris visible in each of the kitchen areas. “The heat of the first explosion must have been enough to set them all off simultaneously.” 

“GOOD.” You'd be happy to hear that. 

Asgore put a big hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Frisk showed me what the two of you did. Amazing work. We already gave it to the human police, and our own people are rendering it out into a model. We'll find him.” The other man hesitated for a moment. “You two…heard the news?” 

“THIS MORNING.” Papyrus had carefully spent the entire morning not thinking about it. Not thinking about a person threatening your life, not thinking about a person spreading your name to a world of insane, sick humans to be targeted. It had been easier outside, where not much of the damage was visible and the rain had cooled him. 

Now? 

Papyrus, as a whole, was very, very slow to anger. It was his nature to find reason, to understand and empathize; even though a bad person had to be stopped, there was still value in understanding them and why they did what they did. 

He didn't care for any of that right then. No, he hated this person, this man who destroyed for no reason and convinced others to do the same. He was sure the human had his reasons, sick and twisted as they may be. He just didn't care what they were. 

Turning, he looked up at his King, not knowing that one of his eyes was faintly orange in color. “CAN I LEAVE, SIR? I…I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE.” He missed you suddenly and painfully, like a cramp in his Soul. 

Asgore nodded. “We'll keep you in the loop.”

Papyrus was out of that hotbox of a building before he even knew he was moving, waving to Alphys and Frisk as he passed them but not stopping even when his young friend called his name. Undyne was sitting outside on the steps, the inner pink of the gills on her neck shocking as she spread them wide in the rain. He stopped for a second, hesitating, but she shook her head. “Go. We're leaving soon too, gonna drop the squirt off at home on our way. I don't want to be at this fucking place anymore.” 

He was halfway to his car when something collided with his back; Frisk wrapped their arms around his waist, hugging him fiercely. 

“I'm sorry I can't do more,” they whispered into his back; Papyrus saw the same heartbreak he felt reflected on Undyne's face as she continued past the two of them. The woman had lines around her eyes that hadn't been there six months ago. “I'm sorry I can't fix it.”

God he wanted off this property…but first, he had to do the right thing. He turned, hugging Frisk close. “DON'T FEEL BAD. YOU AREN'T RESPONSIBLE FOR THE WHOLE DANG WORLD.”

“Aren't I?” They stared up at him with their hands sandwiched their chest and his belly, and Papyrus watched as before his very eyes, another curl of scarlet spread from their left iris and solidified. “Aren't I?”

Stars above, how was he supposed to answer that? 

“Should I do it now?”

He chewed his lip, staring over Frisk's head for a second. “IF… IF YOU DID…WOULD YOU HAVE ANY STRENGTH LEFT OVER TO HELP STOP HIM?” When Frisk didn't answer, he went on. “GREAT WORKINGS LIKE THAT…THEY PUT PEOPLE DOWN FOR DAYS, WEEKS EVEN! WE'D BE FACING A MAGE WHO’D ALMOST ABSOLUTELY BE GUARANTEED TO KILL A WHOLE LOT OF PEOPLE BEFORE WE COULD TAKE HIM DOWN, AND YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO HELP. THE KING WOULD WANT TO BE THERE, AND THEN YOU RISK HIM TOO.” When Frisk wouldn't look at him, he took them by the shoulders and shook them gently. “LOOK AT IT FROM A TACTICAL STANDPOINT. IT'S A NUMBERS GAME. HOW MANY MONSTERS COULD YOU HURT, AT TEN, WITH BARELY ANY OF YOUR MAGIC?”

“...a lot.”

“AND NOW THIS IS A GROWN ADULT WITH ORANGE MAGIC, WAR MAGIC. LET'S SAY FIFTY MONSTERS AND HUMANS ARE THERE TO STOP HIM, PREPARED TO CATCH HIM OUT BY THE ELECTRICAL BOX.  HOW MANY WALK AWAY?” 

Frisk didn't answer except to shake their head. They knew the number was low. 

“EXACTLY. AND THAT'S ASSUMING WE CAN EVEN CATCH HIM. WOULD YOU DIE IF SOMEONE SHOT YOU WITH A HUMAN GUN?” 

Another shake of the head. Humans had 1HP, one chance at life. Mages had so many more, and they could recover them quickly.

“WE DON'T KNOW HIM YET. WE DON'T KNOW HIS CAPABILITIES.” Papyrus took a deep breath, and then, as a gift to his dear friend, he took the weight off their head and the responsibility off their shoulders into his own hands as he said, “IT'S A BAD IDEA. NO, YOU SHOULDN'T DO IT.” 

He didn't add his unspoken other reason- that Frisk was Monsterkind's most assured failsafe, their insurance against another utter calamity, and that the arsonist would have to kill a hundred-thousand people before it would ever be worth it to risk their life on a ‘RESET’ of global proportion.

His firm denial, his logical reasoning, calmed Frisk. They sighed, drooping. “Okay. You're right.”

“OF COURSE I AM. NOW, GO HOME. SEE IF YOU CAN FIGURE OUT ANYTHING ELSE MAGICALLY THAT YOU CAN DO AND WE CAN'T.” 

“M'kay. Bye.”

He checked his phone when he got to his car. You'd said you were going into the hospital about an hour ago; he hoped you were home by now. Feeling numb and cold from the rain and the situation, he ordered takeout on his phone as he pulled into traffic. Ten minutes into the drive, he got a call from Sans.

“hey, just got the news. i'm headin’ in to help alph with some shit. you okay? she okay?” 

Papyrus sighed. “I GUESS SO. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH ALPHYS?”

“takin’ over the machines inside. she's been there since three this morning, when one of the dogs first got a whiff of human magic. i’m gonna take over so she can get some sleep, hopefully capture this fucker's aetheric signture so we can start training wards to it. let him try to avoid that.” 

It was a rare time that Sans did most of the talking, while Papyrus simply listened. When he got home, the house was empty save for Cheese, who wagged from his spot on the couch and danced for Papyrus when he went over and sat with him. The little creature washed his hands and face, making him laugh despite his gray mood- the pup was eternally determined that there was something on him that needed to be licked clean. One of your cardigans was draped over the back of the couch; he reached for it, bundling it up to his face and breathing it in. 

Not ten minutes passed before he heard your car; when you came in, you immediately came over to him, crawling into his lap and hugging him ferociously as soon as you'd dropped your raincoat haphazardly on the floor.

“They think she's gonna be okay,” you murmured into his neck as he squeezed you close, a smile in your voice. “Prince Asriel is amazing, I…I don't even know how…it's a miracle Papyrus, he was breathing for her, fixing her lungs somehow. The nurse that was there with her husband said it's something we can't replicate even with a ventilator. I left when he did, and she was breathing on her own by then!”

Some of the day’s weight left him; he pressed a loud kiss to your forehead, making you giggle. “I’M HAPPY TO HEAR THAT! I REALLY, GENUINELY AM. I WISH MORE MONSTERS KNEW HEALING MAGIC, OR COULD LEARN IT. THE GIFT IS SO RARE.” 

“Me too, it's like something out of a fantasy book, truly.” You shifted so you were sitting beside him, still tucked under his arm. “How did things go? Is everything…?”

He shrugged. “IT'S…NOT GOOD. BUT IT COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE.” Hesitating, he glanced at you; your face was worried, full of stress for him. “BUNNY…IF YOU KNEW SOMETHING THAT COULD HELP KEEP YOU SAFE, WOULD IT BOTHER YOU REALLY BADLY TO HAVE TO KEEP IT A SECRET EVEN IF IT COULD HELP KEEP OTHER PEOPLE SAFE TO KNOW?” When you cocked your head in confusion, he tried to clarify. “IT WON'T BE A SECRET FROM THEM FOREVER. BUT YOU'D KNOW SOMETHING THEY WOULDN'T, AT LEAST FOR A WHILE.”

Realization dawned, and then a small amount of guilt passed across your features. “Oh…oh you learned something today. Well…can Roger and Jax know? They were on that list too.”

“I CAN'T MAKE THAT DECISION, BUT I CAN ASK HIS MAJESTY DIRECTLY. OR HAVE ASRIEL DO IT.”

You nodded. “Okay, thank you. Oh god, what is it honey? I've been scared all day.”

He hugged you closer, as if just talking about it was somehow bad luck. “THE PERSON WHO'S DOING IT ALL, THE FIREBUG…ISN'T A NORMAL HUMAN. THEY AREN'T A NORMAL ARSONIST.” Glancing down into your eyes, he sighed. “YOU KNOW SOME OF MONSTER HISTORY, RIGHT? THAT THERE WERE SEVEN GREAT MAGES, WHO BUILT A BARRIER USING HUMAN MAGIC-”

Before he could even finish, your eyes got huge. “… what, don't tell me…?”

What else could he do but grimace, nodding as he stared out the window while the rain pounded down? “ONE OF THE DOGS FIRST FOUND EVIDENCE, AND THEN FRISK CONFIRMED IT. A HUMAN MAGE. ORANGE-SOULED, FIRE AND WAR MAGIC.” He pulled up the picture on his phone. “I KNOW IT'S HARD TO TELL, ALL IN BLACK LIKE THIS, BUT IS THAT ANYONE YOU RECOGNIZE?”

You squinted, thinking, but eventually shook your head. “Not at all. Just kinda looks like the average skinny, scruffy white dude.”

“DARN. OH WELL.” Papyrus tucked his phone away. “I DIDN'T EXPECT IT WOULD BE THAT EASY.”

“It never is…” You bit your lip, staring up at him. “So…orange magic. Then he's kind-of like us, I guess. Well, more like me than you.”

What Papyrus wouldn't give to have Gaster alive and well at that moment. “IN THEORY, A BIT, MAYBE? I AM GOOD AT MANY THINGS, OBVIOUSLY-” you smiled “-BUT I DON'T STUDY SOULS. THAT WAS MY OLDER BROTHER, AND DOCTOR ALPHYS AND SANS. TO A DEGREE.” Gaster had been the expert on human magic and Souls for the kingdom, but his slow, fading withdrawal from life itself had been the downfall of his own research. When more and more of one's work only existed in their own mind, it was easy for a lifetime of study to be lost with a single death. Alphys and Sans were bent to the point of creaking under the weight of a million seemingly disparate notes, books, studies, and random dissertations that had all only faded back into existence eight and a half years ago, without any of the interconnecting pieces that Gaster never bothered to write down. “HE SPECIALIZED IN THE STUDY OF THE SOUL, OF HUMAN EXPRESSIONS OF POWER AND HOW THEY COULD AFFECT THE WORLD. AND…HE WAS POWERFUL. HE'D BE AS GOOD AS A HUNDRED MONSTERS AGAINST THIS EVIL PERSON, EASILY. ONE OF THE ONLY KINDS OF US TO NOT BE VULNERABLE TO HUMAN INTENTION.” 

“Kinds of you?” You shifted beside him  leaning up against the arm of the couch and putting your feet in his lap. 

“YEAH. I GUESS YOU'D CALL HIM A BOSS MONSTER, PROBABLY. I…DON'T USUALLY THINK ABOUT IT.”

“Oh?”

“PROTECTORS. ‘WATCH-WARDS’, IF YOU LITERALLY TRANSLATE THE OLD MONSTER WORD FOR THEM. PRETTY MUCH ANTI-HUMAN GUARDS. THEY AREN'T BORN VERY OFTEN.”

“I see…huh. Wow, that's freaking fascinating. Okay, so this is kind of a subject change but kind of not, and I've wondered for a while…if it's okay for me to ask, how are you all related? You and Sans and Gaster, I…god, that sounds so much worse than I meant it, I-” 

He nodded, running his thumb down the arch of your foot and chuckling as you immediately melted into the cushions. “IT DOESN'T SOUND BAD. GASTER WAS FIRST. I MEAN, NOT THE FIRST SKELETON. BUT THE ONLY ONE FOR A WHILE. AFTER A LONG TIME, SOMETHING IN THE MOUNTAIN CALLED HIM, AND HE FOUND SANS SORT OF…TUCKED AWAY, IN A LITTLE POCKET OF THE MOUNTAIN WHERE IT HAD KEPT HIM SAFE. HE WOKE HIM UP. AND THEN A LITTLE WHILE LATER, SANS FOUND ME.”

The look on your face was one of utter enchantment. “That's…honestly beautiful? And like you said before, no one knows who the Mountain chooses or why.”

“EXACTLY.”

“It's…like a womb. Born a second time.” Sighing with pleasure at his ministrations, you asked, “So that means it could happen again, right? You or Sans could find someone, and have a new sibling?”

He smiled. “I HOPE WE DO. SKELETONS…DIDN'T HAVE GOOD LIVES, IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE WAR. GASTER WAS THE LAST ONE ALIVE FOR A LONG TIME. IT’S AS IF THE MOUNTAIN KNEW NOT TO CALL HIM TO FIND ANY UNTIL ENOUGH TIME PASSED. SO I HOPE WE DO, I DON'T WANT US TO BE THE LAST ONES.” 

“There must be countless types of Monsters who are gone now, thanks to humans. That's…really sad. Really, really sad.”

“IT IS. BUT I TRY TO LOOK AHEAD, INSTEAD- AND TEEHEE, LOOK AT THAT! A RHYME!” You giggled at him, the giggles breaking into a groan when he switched feet. “You're such a cutie, gosh. Man, I'm hungry. I didn't get lunch at the hospital.”

“PICKED UP CHINESE FOR US.”

“ God I love you.” You said it easily, happily, and then immediately blushed at using such a new term so lightly- Papyrus nearly laughed aloud in happiness. “OF COURSE YOU DO. I HAVE SO MANY LOVEABLE TRAITS!”

“Jeez.”

Chapter Text

With beef and broccoli in one hand and a bag of egg rolls in the other, Papyrus was prepared to vegetate on your couch for the rest of the dang, dreary afternoon, his sour mood uplifted only by your presence and his amusement at your extreme frustration with the video game you were playing. It was some human game he'd heard of but hadn't played (he'd been neglecting his Let’s Play channel terribly, lately), and now he was watching you play, chuckling while you shrieked at falling off the side of a difficult ledge yet again. 

“Mother fucker oooooooooooh you miserable little piece of- god I hate this game, why do I even play it?! Every month or so I decide to give it another shot, and…” 

The little white creature on the screen reloaded yet again, trotting onto the checkpoint from out of view, and he sat his chopsticks down. “CAN I TRY?”

You thrust the controller into his hands, laying back with your container of chicken with cashew nuts on your belly and your head propped up on the front of the couch. “Be my freaking guest.”

He died on purpose once to test the game's reaction time for falling, a second time as he learned the wall jump and dash skills, and got you to the end of the level on his third try. In answer, you pulled a couch pillow over your face and screamed into it, then tossed it away to thrust your lunch aside and turn onto your knees, poking him in the leg with an accusing finger as he tried his best not to smirk. It was a rather pretty position to see you in- you on all fours, staring up at him. “How? How?!” 

An errant thought meandered into his mind as you ranted at him- you were so wonderfully pretty. Your beautiful hair was loose, so eternally tempting to run his hands through. Your eyes were sparkling with gentle annoyance and hidden entertainment, your face flushed with color. And there were your nails, always done in that same shade of bright tangerine since the two of you had first gotten together, since your very first date. 

There was a royal event coming up that weekend, a fundraiser for the Children's Hospital their majesties were hosting that Asriel had reminded him of by text just a few minutes ago…and had mentioned oh so suggestively, at the very end, that it was definitely a ‘plus one’ event.

He interrupted you in the most effective way he knew how; by leaning down, cupping his hand around the back of your head, and kissing you gently. As always, you melted into his touch, a little sound of surprise in your throat. Once he'd spent a few seconds enjoying the knowledge that he could do this almost whenever he wanted, he pulled away, pausing the game with one finger. “SO BUNNY…AN UNRELATED QUESTION FOR YOU.”

You cocked your head, thoroughly intrigued after his kiss, and stars didn't it feel good that he affected you so? If you'd asked him even a year ago if he thought something like this was possible for him, he wouldn't have been able to answer. 

“THERE'S A THING THIS WEEKEND AT THE CAPITAL, A FUNDRAISER AND DANCE! AND IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE VERY FUN AND PRETTY AND HARVEST THEMED, SINCE SOME MONSTERS AREN'T THE BIGGEST FANS OF HALLOWEEN-” you grimaced, instantly understanding why “-AND ALL. IT'S MOSTLY FOR LOCAL RICHY-RICH PEOPLE IN THE STATE SO THEY'LL GIVE UP THEIR MONEY. WOULD YOU…WOULD YOU WANT TO GO?”

Of course the two of you were ‘public’- every single Monster seemed to know Papyrus was dating a human girl, and all your human friends and coworkers regularly asked about him according to you. But there was public, and there was royal court public. 

You blinked for a moment, your expression flickering between sudden nervousness, affection, and then, dry amusement. “You're inviting me to a royal event with a week's notice, my dear?”

He winced, offering you his brightest smile as he realized his error. “...YES?”

“...dear lord. Let's finish lunch...then we're going back out, I guess.”

-

By the grace of the stars, a salon not even ten minutes away from the Mountain entrance had an opening that coming Saturday in the afternoon; Papyrus admired all the lovely hair colors available while you thanked the receptionist again and again for squeezing you into their schedule. One of the stylists noticed his interest and got to talking with him… and soon every woman in the room was absolutely losing their minds over the idea of a royal dance. Never mind that people seldom did much dancing at events like this anymore; the activity wasn't as popular nowadays with humans as it was with Monsters, in any case. Suddenly, you'd gone from an inconvenience the salon was begrudgingly squeezing in that weekend, to a wildly popular source of gossip and potential business. Every person there had opinions on where you should buy a dress, shoes, a bag; what to take, what to say.

Finally, you and Papyrus nearly threw yourselves out the doors as he promised to connect with the owner on Facebook, while she herself declared she’d be doing your hair and makeup. After a few moments of quietly giggling together in the car, he stretched, then murmured, “AND THAT IS HOW I GET ALL SORTS OF FREE THINGS. CONGRATULATIONS, YOU'VE RECEIVED ONE ROYAL COUPON BOOK, COURTESY OF THE MOST USEFUL BOYFRIEND IN THE WORLD!” with self-satisfaction.

Grinning, you leaned over and pressed a loud kiss on his shoulder, then pointed across the street. “Well now, would you look at that?” A sign was being put up on the billboard there, advertising the last home game of the Ebott Eagles. The season had run late due to injuries on several other partnered teams in the league, and they’d apparently decided to play one more big game before the postseason began. It was the talk of the town…behind the arsonist of course. 

He sighed wistfully. “I WOULD LIKE TO GO…THERE'S SUPPOSED TO BE ALL SORTS OF PRIZES AND FREE STUFF HAPPENING AT THE STADIUM. ALAS...IT'S JUST NOT VERY FUN.”

“Hmmm…will they turn you away at the door if a human gets your tickets for you?” You glared at a spot on your pants, irate for his sake- he loved it. “If all you need is one person giving their license to buy them, then hell, invite as many people as you want to. I'll buy all of them, and the best fucking seats too!” Squinting up at the billboard for a moment as if it had pissed you off, Papyrus thought to himself with satisfaction that you were never as beautiful as when you were angry for his people. “I've never forgotten that. It was months ago when you first told me, and I've never forgotten ever since.”

“IT'S…ANNOYING.”

As he began to back out of the parking lot, you shook your head. “I looked it up, you know, weeks ago. Asked my director too- I thought I remembered seeing something about it that struck me as odd with the whole situation when I first started working for the county.” He hummed a question, and you motioned nebulously toward the other side of town, where the stadium was. “The old, rich shitstain pulled federal grants for that stadium. Community betterment programs and all. So technically, he's not allowed to say a word to you guys about being Monsters. Federal money means federal laws, you can only exclude people in a protected class from a private business, and even that's a big gray area. Fucking hell, bars can't do ladies nights without getting sued by some random guy, but an entire baseball stadium can ban a whole race of people from its seats?”

Papyrus sighed. “THEIR MAJESTIES PICK AND CHOOSE THEIR BATTLES. THIS IS ONE THAT IT REALLY BENEFITS US TO LOSE, EVEN THOUGH IT SUCKS. BASEBALL IS A BIG THING IN AMERICAN CULTURE. GOING TO A GAME, SEEING PEOPLE BEING OSTRACIZED AND TREATED BADLY AT SOMETHING SO CAREFREE AND TRADITIONAL? IT'S ODDLY GOOD PR.” These weren't fun things to know. Many parts of being around royals were fun…but some weren't. “THERE'S BEEN NEWSPAPER ARTICLES AROUND THE WORLD BECAUSE OF IT. SOME FAMOUS PHOTOGRAPHER MADE AN EXHIBIT OF PICTURES HE TOOK OF US THERE AND IT’S STILL IN A MUSEUM IN NEW YORK. HE CALLED IT ‘SANDMOUND SEGREGATION.”

You said nothing to that for a long time, before settling on crossing your arms and muttering, “...still. Fuck him.”

“AGREED.”

Merging into traffic, he glanced over at you for a moment- you looked thoughtful, staring at the dashboard as you twisted a ring around one finger. “WHAT DEEP, VAST THOUGHTS ARE YOU PONDERING, BUNNY?” 

“Oh, you know. I'm just thinking…as far as I know, you can rent the entire green around the field for private parties at games. But if only Monsters are forced to sit there…god, wouldn't it be a shame if your royal family rented the entire thing and made one hell of a day out of it?” Twirling a lock of hair very innocently, you grinned up at him. “If they added to the big event at the final game, getting people to come over and mingle? Maybe even making it a more fun place to sit than the normal seats?”

“WHAT A ROTTEN IDEA. I SHALL PASS IT ON TO ASRIEL- THE KING AND QUEEN WOULD SAY IT'S ASKING FOR TROUBLE, BUT I BET HE'D LOVE TO HOST SOMETHING LIKE THAT. IT'S THE WEEKEND AFTER THIS ONE, RIGHT? TIGHT SCHEDULE, BUT…”

Realizing how little time was available for planning such a thing, he called the prince on the spot, letting you tell your idea to the other man as Papyrus interjected here and there. And just as he'd expected, the other man absolutely loved it. 

“Oh fuck, that's such a good idea, why did we never think of that?” He had to speak loudly to be heard over the noise in the background- wherever he was, there was a crowd. “I'll get one of the spare palace assistants to make the reservations and all. I doubt the dick that owns it will say no to me.” 

After some further planning and chatting (and didn't it feel good that you got along so well with his best friend?), you settled back into the seat with a self-satisfied smile and handed his phone back to him. “Good. Alright, now for the worst part of the day…dress shopping. I don't know if I'll even find something today, so sorry ahead of time if the trip ends up being a waste.” 

“I’D BE HAPPY JUST DRIVING AROUND IN CIRCLES WITH YOU, SILLY.” He leaned forward, squinting against the rain as it fell harder. The Otter had been right- the storm was not letting up. “AND DO YOU NOT LIKE CLOTHING SHOPPING? IT’S SO FUN!”

“My sweet, handsome, skinny-ass man. Your body is the shape that human designers create fashions for.” When he glanced over, there was the slightest tinge of wistful sadness in your Soul, though you kept your tone light. “You can walk into any store and buy things right off the rack. There's only two department stores in town that even carry clothing that fits me, and one is ugly as hell. Neither carries anything nice enough for something like what you're inviting me to…”

He frowned. “WHY? I MEAN, YOU ARE WONDERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL, AND VERY UNIQUE ON THE INSIDE, BUT ON THE OUTSIDE THERE ARE LOTS OF HUMANS WHO LOOK LIKE YOU. WOULDN'T EVERY STORE WANT TO SELL MORE TO MORE PEOPLE?” 

“I dunno. Societal reasons or whatever. I know some brands don't carry above a certain size because they don't want their clothing seen on people shaped like that.”

“THAT IS STUPID. WHAT A WASTE OF A GOOD BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY.” Then he thought of something. “WANNA TRY SOME MONSTER PLACES? NOT CATTY AND BRATTY’S, THEIR LINES ARE A BIT TOO, UM, REVEALING FOR THIS EVENT. BUT DOWN IN THE MOUNTAIN PROPER?” 

You cocked your head in curiosity as he pulled into a coffee drive thru. “Would you get me a hot mocha? And to be honest, I guess I've never really thought of it. Every Monster is so disparate, I never really considered the idea.”

“AH BUT YOU SEE, THAT IS THE GENIUS OF MY THINKING. EVERY MONSTER IS VERY DIFFERENT. CLOTHING STORES SELL DESIGNS. DRAPING BASE PATTERNS AND SUCH, AND THEN THEY HAVE TAILORS THERE THAT FIT IT TO YOU IN A FEW DAYS.”

“Huh.” You sounded intrigued. “I'd always noticed that Monsters wore like, really nice clothing for the most part. I thought it was just the gold standard being so different compared to our currency. But it makes sense if it's all literally custom tailored, jeez.”

“YUP. USUALLY WE OWN LESS THAN HUMANS, UNLESS SOMEONE LIKES TO COLLECT OUTFITS. BECAUSE WE COULDN'T JUST WALK INTO A STORE AND BUY A PREMADE FINISHED THING LIKE SOME OF US CAN ON THE SURFACE NOW.” 

“Well…okay. That could be fun, actually!” 

Coffees in hand, he drove the two of you down into the Mountain tunnel, aiming for one of the capital strips of fancier shops. He wanted to show you off at this (comparably small) harvest festival that Toriel and Asgore were hosting, and was secretly absolutely thrilled that you'd be wearing his people's materials and fashion instead of some plasticky, garbage human stuff. 

You stared out the window in rapt fascination, your hand under his on the gear stick. “I'd never gone this far into the capital before we got together, it's so pretty. Wow…” 

Chuckling, he changed his mind at an intersection, turning to take you through a more historic part of town before looping back to the shopping district. The first time he'd brought you down here, an early date to the botanical gardens on the west side of the capital, he'd been so nervous to have a girl in his car that liked him that he'd hardly been able to breathe. Now, though, he could glance over and enjoy your amazement at the magical architecture around you, dropping his hand to your thigh as you clapped your hands together in astonishment at one particularly old manor. “Oh my god that's so cool, is that entire place floating?” 

Grinning, he nodded. “AN OLD ESTATE FOR A FAMILY OF AIR ELEMENTAL NOBILITY. I THINK A GRANDMA AND SOME DISTANT NEPHEW STILL LIVE THERE.”

Your phone buzzed a few times as he pulled back into the main thoroughfare- he hummed a question, and you showed him the screen, with its accompanying wall of text. “My dad. Checking up on me- news about the arsonist has made it to national channels I guess. I'm not telling him everything, I don't want him and mom to worry, but he just wanted to be sure I wasn't roasted yet.”

“THEY LIVE ON THE EAST COAST RIGHT?” 

“Yup! Mom is already badgering me about Christmas present ideas for you, we're gonna be drowning in packages come December. She's, uh, intense about Christmas.”

Flattered as all daylights, he took a moment to let the warmth of that thought sink in as he waited at a light. Your mother liked your stories of him enough to include him in a holiday? 

“...crud wait, I forgot- most Monster stores can't run cards yet, right? I guess we need to go to the exchange first, I-”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “GOD FORBID YOUR MOST HANDSOME AND LOVING BOYFRIEND DO A NICE THING FOR YOU AND PAY.”

“Oh…well, I…” For some reason, that made you terribly shy and gooey for a moment, leaning over and squeezing his arm. “That's really nice of you to offer, but um…you know women's dresses and such can be really expensive, so I-”

Papyrus let out a very patient sigh. 

It was the strangest experience, in a recent lifetime of strange experiences. The shop the two of you had spotted from the street was lovely, a modern storefront in an absolutely ancient series of stone buildings. A variety of mannequins at the window showed a half-dozen different body shapes, and how various outfits could be styled to them- it was rather nerve wracking, because none of them looked vaguely human. 

The moment the two of you stepped through the door, a series of Spiders the size of great danes came scuttling toward you, and it was only your man's hand on your back that kept you in place as your heart leapt into your throat. The Spider at the cafe had been so different, standing on two legs with the other six folded demurely within her apron, far more humanoid than the extremely spidery-looking and animalistic ones bearing down on you excitedly. 

With all good cheer, Papyrus smiled at the three of them and called, “HUMAN! THIS IS A HUMAN!” and they skidded to a halt, looking suddenly sheepish. Two of them backed up, folding their front legs politely under their mandibles, while the third stepped forward much more slowly and deliberately. The fine fur covering her body was a lovely metallic gold, the body underneath a beautiful sapphire blue and teal green. Now that they weren't rushing toward you, you took a deep breath, swallowing down instinctive fear. “Hi, I'm sorry…sincerely. Sorry for acting dumb.” Beside you, Papyrus hummed approvingly. 

The one in front cocked her head at you, somehow smiling despite a face that fell between insectoid and anthropomorphic. “We alssssso apologize, how rude of usss to forget! Hello indeed! Are you looking for cusssstom tailoring?”

Your mortal body rebelled one last time- her mandibles clicked as she spoke, and it made your gorge rise for a moment. Swallowing hard, you tried to answer…to no avail, your voice broke on the first word. Rubbing soothing circles on your back, Papyrus nodded, stepping forward a bit. “YES INDEED! I GAVE HER A VERY LAST MINUTE INVITATION TO A VERY FANCY THING, AND HUMAN CLOTHING IS UGLY AND TINY.”

The other two Spiders tittered, but the one in front only nodded solemnly. “Indeed it can be…very little choice of color, or ssssstyle, or sssssize. We will need to measure you, missss, but we promisssssse we will not ssssscratch or bite you in any way. We are not mindless animalsssss. You will come to no harm.”

Blowing out a hard breath, you stepped away from Papyrus. “Of course not. I'm sorry if people have treated you that way.” You were proud to see that your hand only trembled a little as you held it out and introduced yourself. The little Spider’s claw was incredibly delicate in your palm, so finely boned that you were almost afraid to touch her. “You are absolutely beautiful, by the way, what is this?” Now that you were closer, you could see that she had gossamer threads draped between her legs and the joints of her body, as finely and delicately woven as the most expensive handmade lace in the world. It was like a translucent shawl or veil over her entire form, made of threads so hair-thin that you couldn't even see them unless she turned just the right way.

The compliment made her giggle as you gestured towards her garb. “I thank you sssincerely! I recently got engaged; thisss isss the work of my fiancé. She iss weaving it for me, on me, to show me her ssssssskill day by day.”

You looked around the shop again with new eyes, stunned by the detail of what was before you and now knowing what to look for…every piece of clothing, from the plainest shirt to the finest gown, was accented with similar threadwork. One, a modest black evening gown, was in a display case under a mister; as you watched, the falling spray of water transformed it from something almost ugly in its simplicity to the most complex and intricately decorated thing you'd ever seen. The patterns fell past the ‘hands’ in long, draping extensions of the sleeves that, as you squinted at in in awe, almost looked to depict images that moved. 

“Blackwater Web,” the lead Spider murmured with pride. “My own invention. There are sssspellsss that will place the water in ssstasssissss-” (you had to hide a smile at the difficulty she had in pronouncing the word) “-upon the threadsss, ssso the dropletss will lasst all night.”

“That's amazing…my god, I…I don't think I've ever seen something so complex, this should be in a museum, I…” In a modern world of quick fashion and mass production, you truly could not remember ever seeing something so lovely. “I'm speechless.” 

To your amusement, the woman took a half step back as the fur-hair covering her body rippled for a moment; a Spider’s blush, perhaps? “Oh, oh my, thank you sincerely!” Turning, she trotted across the shop, flapping a claw at the other two…

…and soon you were standing atop a low platform in a curtained-off area, staring at the wall and trying not to look at the numbers on the measuring tape as they whisked it around you. You figured some things were just better not to know. 

“And isss thiss for the harvesst fessstival, yesss? That iss the only royal event I know of coming ssoon.” The speaker, colored like a wolf spider in soft browns and blacks, had turned to rifle through a bin behind her, pulling out a tablet and a stylus. “Any particular patternsss or ssstyless that you enjoy?”

Never in your life had you been given the chance to consider how you would design a completely customized outfit. “Well, I know I definitely want a long dress. I like my arms covered, but not super tightly, and I like it when a waistline kind of sits here? I think it looks better.” You showed her where you meant on your waist. “Something flowy, not tight. Not so low cut that I have to fuss with it all night, but also not too boring. And I don't want my back to be out too much, I guess.”

She nodded, doing something on the tablet as you spoke. “Colorss? It would be mossst fashionable for you to match at leassst the ssame family of colorsss asss Her Majesty, jussst asss your partner will. It would be expected of him, and admirable of you.” 

“And what will that be?” It was very odd, standing under a spotlight in your underwear while holding casual conversation.

“Indigo, to align with the Amethyssst Dynasssty. Unlesss you wish to lean burgundy, for His Royal Highness’ Ruby Dynasssty to come. The true colorsss, violet and scarlet, will be resserved for thosse of the royal family only.”

Like you did so often when you spent time with Papyrus, you inwardly marveled at the depths behind the interesting information she'd just shared with you; information about an entirely different race of people, with their own traditions, customs, and millennia of history. “No…indigo sounds beautiful. Like a dark indigo, maybe? Something…oh, I don't know.” It almost felt too luxurious to be able to be so specific, something reserved for millionaires and fancy people. “S-something inspired by the night sky?” 

One of the others had gone to tend to another customer- the gold Spider (Maa, as she'd introduced herself) and the one doodling on the tablet put their heads together, murmuring for a minute or two, before she turned it to face you. 

The design she'd come up with was lovely. Long and full without being encumbering, with a wide, graceful neckline and swirled patterns spreading from it down the sheer sleeves. From the waist down it was a sheer fabric of swirled purples and dark blues over a solid, deep indigo beneath. Little dots suggested beading of some kind around the neck, cleavage, and down the front like a tabard. 

“Made of the sssoftesst deepsilk, and lovely glassss beading sso there isss not too much weight. Enough fabric to move asss you walk and dance, but not sso much asss to be uncomfortable. Yess?”

You nodded, speechless for a moment. “...yes. Wow, yes. That's…that would be gorgeous - but wait, do you even have time to make something like that? We have less than a week!”

“It will be ready for a final fitting by Wednesssday, ma'am.” There was pride in Maa’s voice. “Do not worry about that.” 

Papyrus’s voice came from outside of the curtained fitting area then, quiet but carrying- had he been listening the entire time? “IS THERE TIME TO REINFORCE IT? IN THE BELLY AND BACK, AT LEAST?” 

Maa gave you the oddest look then, while you frowned and tried to figure out what he meant. “...of courssse, ambasssssador. I will weave the ssigilss in myssself.” 

Ambassador. Good god. She'd recognized him- hell, all of them had probably recognized him- on sight. And reinforcing the dress…protection magic, maybe. It made you think of that morning…and your stomach dropped.

Belly and back. Two easy targets for a killer on the loose, at a large event full of strangers.

“A hair piece could alssso be made, for an added fee. I would bessspell it asss well, for protection and clarity of vision even in emergenciesss. My workingsss are excellent, tried and true.”

“OH, YES! WHAT A GOOD IDEA.” 

“Could your spells also make it…me…fireproof? While I’m wearing it?” You were amazed at how calm your voice was, though the words left you softer than you meant them to. “Is that possible?” 

The other Spider exchanged a glance with her. “...they can, yesss. The cossst of materialsss will be higher for sssuch an enchantment, with an extra day needed, and I shall need my fiancé to assssisssst…”

“DO THAT, PLEASE.” A Skeletal hand came through the curtains to give a thumbs-up, which made all of you smile despite the grimness of the topic. “THANK YOU!”

The drive home was quiet, both of you lost in your minds as the day's events caught back up to him. Maa had promised that everything would be ready by Thursday for a final fitting (needing an extra day for the special enchantments), which felt like you were cutting everything rather close. Still, she'd promised that final adjustments could be done on the spot, with no need to go home and wait for everything to be done. Now, with nothing else to occupy his thoughts but a slowly growing uneasiness, Papyrus sighed deeply as he pulled out of the Mountain and into the dreary, drizzly evening.

Beside him, you hummed, reaching over to wrap your hand around his arm. “Thank you. Sincerely. I cannot imagine what all of that's going to cost.” 

He snorted. “THAT IS THE ABSOLUTE MOST BOTTOMEST OF THE BARREL CONCERN FOR ME RIGHT NOW, BUNNY. I COULD NOT CARE LESS.”

As the week passed and Saturday got closer and closer, Papyrus watched with mild alarm as you went from excited to deathly nervous. Without your work to distract you, you had hours in your day to stress…and were using every single one of them while he was at class or in the Underground helping their majesties prepare. He fielded your constant, anxious questions with soothing answers, assuring you that no, you didn't need to know any extra special manners or comportment, or worry about remembering every name (no one else there would bother), or anything else like that. More than once, he found you eyeing yourself in the mirror with pursed lips, turning this way and that.

Thursday was a treat, at least- getting to see you in a gown he'd paid for was a lovely experience. As expected, it fit you perfectly- Maa, Sité and Brrrn were consummate professionals. They left the two of you alone in the fitting area for a time, tending to other customers as you twisted back and forth in front of the mirror.

He was watching the fabric ripple, smiling…when you took a breath. 

“Hey…honey…um…are you sure you want me to come on Saturday?” You were biting your lip, not meeting his eye.

“WHAT? DUH, OBVIOUSLY! IT WILL BE SO MUCH MORE FUN WITH YOU THERE!” A thought occurred to him. “BUNNY I WOULD NEVER LET YOU GET HURT. NEVER. DON'T WORRY ABOUT ONE LONE PSYCHO.”

But to his surprise, you shook your head. “...that's not what I'm worried about.”

“THEN CAN YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU ARE WORRIED ABOUT?”

“Well…you know.”

Papyrus arched a brow. “I ACTUALLY DO NOT, NO.”

With a sigh, you turned to him. “What if the other people there think badly of you, seeing you with me? I don't want them to lose respect for you because of me.”

“WHY THE HECK WOULD THEY?” He was absolutely flummoxed. You ran your hands down the front of the dress, avoiding his eye. “Football players with curvy wives don't show them in interviews. Celebrities with girlfriends that aren't slim don't often take them on the red carpet until they've lost weight. Sometimes they all do, of course. But not often. The amount of comments they'll get from the press just isn't worth it.”

“WELL…I CAN'T HELP WHAT WILL BE PUBLISHED. UNFORTUNATELY PEOPLE WILL PROBABLY THINK WE ARE VERY INTERESTING, JUST BECAUSE WE'RE A MONSTER AND A HUMAN.” He reached up, putting his hands around your waist and lifting you down off the low platform effortlessly. “BUT I'LL SAY RIGHT NOW THAT I THINK ALL THOSE PEOPLE YOU NAMED ARE STUPID FOR THAT. LETTING OTHER NASTY PEOPLE DICTATE HOW THEY TREAT THE PERSON THEY'RE WITH. IT'S WRONG. AND YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL. EVERYONE WILL BE JEALOUS OF ME.”

As you always did, you looked surprised and delighted by how easily he'd lifted you; he hoped you would never get used to it in all your lives together. “I…what if someone says something?”

He rolled his eyes. “THEN YOU WOULD PUT A HAND TO YOUR CHEST, AND GIVE THEM AND ANYONE ELSE LISTENING A VERY PATIENT AND DISAPPROVING LOOK, AND SAY TO THEM, “MY GOODNESS, WHAT A TERRIBLY INAPPROPRIATE THING TO SAY AT THEIR MAJESTY'S PARTY! YOU MUST HAVE FORGOTTEN WHERE YOU WERE, BUT IT'S ALRIGHT, I FORGIVE YOU.” AND THEN TURN YOUR BACK TO THEM AND TALK TO SOMEONE ELSE.”

“So just always default back to the royals, eh?” There was a little smile on your face now, and he nodded sagely. “EXACTLY. A GOOD, LOYAL, KIND-OF-DUAL-CITIZEN.”

“Good Lord…I might need to take a nerve pill before this damn dance.”

He grinned. “YOU WOULDN'T BE THE ONLY ONE THERE WHO DID!”

Chapter Text

Friday morning came, and Papyrus was rather proud of himself. You'd been looking at both of your cars the night before, trying to figure out which one would be easier to ride into the Underground while wearing such a structured, layered gown. A thought occurred to him as you puttered around making breakfast.

“HMMMMMM...WOULD IT BE EASIER TO HAVE A ROOM IN THE EASTERN PALACE TO GET READY IN? THIS ISN'T AS BIG OF AN EVENT AS SOME- I DON'T THINK MORE THAN TWENTY OR THIRTY FANCY PEOPLE ARE STAYING THERE. SHOULD BE PLENTY OF FREE SPACE! WE CAN TAKE EVERYTHING IN TONIGHT.”

“Sweetheart, that's brilliant, yes!” You leaned in as you walked by, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I assume there's like, a bathroom and all? A mirror?”

“THE ONES FOR HUMAN VISITORS LOOK LIKE NICE HOTEL ROOMS, SO YEP! HEH HEH I'M GLAD YOU LIKE MY IDEA…”

“It's perfect. The fundraiser is in the, um, eastern palace too, right? The smaller one? So we can just walk right down. Perfect, perfect, perfect.” You reached up, grabbing a box of cereal. “I think I'm gonna take Cheese over to Roger- Jax is out of town for a day or two, and he's lonely. That way we don't have to worry about getting home late or anything.”

Papyrus glanced over - as he always did, the little dog began wagging the moment he heard the man's name. "AH, HE SEEMS TO LIKE THE IDEA!”

“Silly boy always does, don't you? Want a cheerio?” The pup snapped the treat out of the air as you tossed it to him, crunching happily. “I…I'm nervous. But I'm excited too. Even though I feel terribly underprepared for this.” 

“JUST THINK OF IT AS PRACTICE FOR THE SPRING GALA. THAT'S THE ONE ALL THE REPORTERS WILL BE AT- THEY'RE ELEVATING ASRIEL TO CROWN PRINCE THEN. A GLOBAL EVENT.”

You shuddered. “Jesus christ. No, I don't even want to think about it yet.”

He left you at home to run some errands of his own; first, dropping off paperwork to request a leave of absence for his classes at the university office (every Monster student had been given the option for one after the most recent arsonist attack), then, heading under the Mountain to his favorite tailor. He had no idea if human dry cleaning was safe for magical materials, and never wanted to risk it. The suit he was picking up was the first one he'd gotten after Asgore had realized just how effective a bridge builder Papyrus could be, all those years ago. Prior to it, he'd just worn normal cotton and silk as he'd wandered around bringing groups of people together at royal functions- surface suits purchased with newly exchanged human money. This one had been a gift from the crown- a Shimmersilk three piece, enchanted with all the same spells and protections as the armor worn by the Royal Guards. Look close enough, and one could see the very sigils themselves, almost microscopic in their design as they slowly wove and twisted through the material. It couldn't stain, couldn't wrinkle, resisted impacts, cuts, and punctures, and was both fire and freeze-proof, maintaining a steady environment around him no matter where he was. It was a priceless treasure, and showed Asgore’s sincerity and belief in him. He owned other nice things now, but none nearly as fine as that one.

The Soapsprite smiled at him as he took the garment bag carefully off the rack labeled ‘Pick Up’; he waved as he trotted back out with it in hand. The sudsy fellow was never one for conversation, but it was always nice to see him, sitting behind the front desk of his humid little shop. 

When he got back home, it was in time to greet Roger as he carried Cheese out to his car. 

“Hey, man! Have fun! I'm so jealous of you both!”

Papyrus grinned. “I COULD PROBABLY GET YOU AN INVITE IF YOU WANT ONE.”

Grimacing, the other man stuffed the wiggly dog into his backseat. “I think I need another few months of recovery before I get anywhere near your royal family again, thanks. Just take lots of pictures and send them to me, okay?”

“DEAL!”

You were coming in and out of your house as well, first carefully with the garment bag and case that held your dress and hairpiece, then again with a small suitcase packed. “All my makeup and hair stuff, and an outfit to change into just in case. I'm paranoid. I know I'm getting it all done at the salon, but…you know. I'm packing the car ahead of time.”

He nodded. “IT'S GOOD TO BE PREPARED.” A quick text to Asriel confirmed there was a room available, and luckily, it was in the wing neighboring the ballrooms where the fundraiser would be. 

Asriel, 12:02- And that way, if you get her nice and drunk and happy, you don't have to drive the whole way home to get that fancy ass dress off her ;)

Papyrus rolled his eyes, grinning- of course he'd thought about it, but he wasn't gonna say it. Trust Asriel to, though. 

Asriel, 12:03- You should see the shit show in here. They've spent the last 2 weeks getting full human security systems installed, literally JUST finished today. Next is the main palace. Unless the motherfucker can turn invisible, he's gonna have a hard time sneaking in now. Cameras everywhere, key cards, the whole nine yards. Humans sure are good at protecting shit from each other

12:03- Well yeah, they gotta be. They steal, like, all the time. Sans can't go to the museums in their capital because the infrared gives him a migraine.

Asriel, 12:04- Then he'll HATE the palace now. They're gonna make special glasses for people who see that kind of thing, to try to help with any issues.

A thought occurred to him then. “SO, MY DEAREST DEAR, SPEAKING OF AHEAD OF TIMES…WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO SEE WHERE WE'RE GOING TO BE TOMORROW? PERHAPS LEAVE SOME STUFF THERE, POKE AROUND, GET USED TO THINGS? I KNOW YOU'VE BEEN, UM…A LITTLE NERVOUS.”

Your kiss on the cheek made him blush a little despite its simplicity. “You brilliant man. Yes, absolutely.”

The drive in together was nice; the rain had finally stopped overnight, leaving the sky a beautiful clean blue against the oranges and reds of the trees in the city. You cooed, impressed, as the gate mechanism automatically recognized Papyrus and let him park in one of the private underground garages below the eastern palace. 

“THE PERKS OF BEING BELOVED. ALAS, WHAT A WEIGHT TO BARE ON MY STRONG SHOULDERS…”

“And so extraordinarily humble too,” you murmured, grinning. 

To his delight, Asriel met the two of you at one of the side entrances- the prince made you laugh by giving you an overacted, dramatically courtly bow, motioning toward the open door for you to pass him. As expected, Frisk was there too, lounging on a bench just inside and texting someone. 

Nervously, you signed, “Hello! How are you?”, and Frisk smiled hugely in reply. You grimaced, trying to sign something else but giving up halfway through. “I'm sorry, I haven't gotten the chance to learn a lot yet! I found free courses online, but things have been so crazy…”

They waved that off, hugging you one armed and taking the suitcase from your hand. “It's okay. I can talk. It just hurts.” Their voice was whispery, rougher than usual- Papyrus cocked a brow at Asriel, but the younger man just shrugged, mouthing, “Long day.” 

“Can I, uh,…can I ask why?” You began following the mage, letting Papyrus and Asriel trail along behind you. 

Inwardly, you admitted that they were a little unnerving- you were intimidated just asking that simple question. The infamously famous mage was a stunningly attractive person, recognized around the world in the fashion industry as a model- renowned for their mysterious magical power and for having freed all of Monsterkind -and their eyes were a piercing, unnatural shade of red. The red even spread outside of their irises in places, almost glowing with the intensity of the color. Offset by the long black skirt and white, lacey button up they were wearing, the other human cut a severe figure. 

They sighed. “When I was really little, before I fell down here, I had to get surgery on my thyroid. It messed up a lot of nerves. The…people I lived with at the time didn't think it was necessary for me to get therapy for it. So I never got better.”

You bit your lip, trying to think of the right thing to say. It was obvious that Frisk meant their biological parents. Here was a hint of an answer to the question that countless tabloids and reporters asked again and again- where had the Mage come from? The answer, seemingly, was ‘not a good situation’. It felt good that they trusted you with that one little piece of insight.

Finally, you settled on honesty. “That's a really shitty thing for them to have done to you. I'm sorry.”

They waved it off. “Just don't get mad at me if sometimes I type stuff out on my phone for you to read instead.” 

“Who the heck would ever get mad at you? I mean…yeah, people are dumb. But lord.”

Shooting you a grin full of mischief, they motioned nebulously around them. “People get mad at me for existing, I'm used to it by now. Now tell me how you met Papyrus. Did you know he tried to kidnap me?”

An incredulous snort from your man behind you made you smirk. “Ah, no, I'm afraid that's one hobby that he hasn't shared with me.” Telling Frisk the abridged version of your relationship so far and listening as Frisk told you about their escapades together in the Underground, you tried your best to focus on the conversation as you stared in awe at the building around you. 

Papyrus had said this was a minor palace, one of two. If this was minor, you were terrified to imagine what the main one looked like- you'd only ever seen its extravagance from a distance. The walls themselves were built from white marble blocks, carved in incredibly intricate designs and almost glowing with the purity of their color. The floors were white too, decorated with deep purple and indigo carpets, all of them obviously handmade. Live, esoteric plants decorated the halls, along with paintings, statues on pedestals, and countless other treasures.

Frisk called your name and you jumped- you'd zoned out, too busy staring around yourself. “Oh, sorry. You've never been here before, right?” They turned away to clear their throat, and as smoothly as if he'd been summoned, the prince took three larger steps up until he was at their side, putting a paw on the small of their back. You could have sworn for just a moment that you saw a red glimmer of magic around the mage’s throat. When Frisk gave the prince a tiny, grateful smile, you had to glance away for a second as you realized what had happened- it was so sweet, such an immediate, subtle expression of care and concern that it almost felt too intimate to witness. The scary, tough prince had rushed up the moment Frisk had showed even the slightest hint of discomfort .

Papyrus had explained the, ah, unique situation between the prince and the mage. It made sense, in a way. Who were you to judge? The world would do that enough.

Asriel grinned over at you. “That's right, this is your first time here. I've heard other humans describe it as ‘painfully white’.” He gestured, and to your amazement, the lamps on the walls all around you dimmed just a bit, making the starkness of the architecture a bit less alarming. Now, shadows cast the carvings into beautiful relief, letting you see details you couldn't before. Upon closer inspection, you realized tiny clear faceted gems had even been set into different places, sometimes as eyes, sometimes as the center of flowers, sometimes as droplets of water. “Dear god. Don't tell me those are diamonds.” 

When Asriel's smile only widened, you shook your head, stunned. “Christ. And this whole place is like this?”

“Yup.”

“That's insane.” You stared in wonder up at your man as he stepped up beside you and took your hand. “You Monsters are insane.”

“WHAT CAN WE SAY? WE HAD AN AWFUL LONG TIME DOWN HERE TO BE BORED AND GO DIGGING.”

The suite of rooms set aside for the two of you was lovely, and thankfully hung with tapestries that helped break up the overwhelming brightness of the pure white stone. You blinked as you walked in. “Oh, this is so much more than I expected, I…do we really need…?”

Asriel snorted, gently buffeting your arm with his fist. “Stars, you try to do something nice for someone…wouldn’t it be lovely and impressive and oh so generous of me to give you somewhere to pass out after you dance the night away? I don't know if you're aware- these kinds of things go on for hours, and you're saddled with someone who can't leave before my mom and dad do. The official end time is ten, sure…and if you get to come back here before one in the morning, I'll be amazed.”

Giggling now, you turned to Papyrus, who gave you a guilty look. “Maybe I'll just find a nice curtain somewhere to pass out behind.”

“YOU'LL HAVE TO FIGHT FOR THE SPACE.”

“Might as well stay here tonight too..or not, your choice. If you do, you can get fancy palace foooood-” Even as Asriel wheedled jokingly, sparkling red script showed up on their sleeve where no one else but you could see it. ‘Frisk doesn't have many other humans to spend time around.’

Oh, what a sweetheart he secretly was…at least for his mage. Giving up on an evening of video games and relaxation, you nodded. “Alright sure, why not? I want the grand tour, it'll be a nice distraction. If that’s okay with you, honey.”

Frisk signed something and Asriel snorted, while Papyrus only rolled his eyes and shoved them gently as he slipped in past you, nodding. “What?” 

The prince winked at you. “They say the two of you are too cute together, it's gross.”

“Alright watermelon-eyes mcgee, I see how it is.” Frisk snorted out a laugh as you followed your man in. “No loyalty between humans here.” 

“Nope!”

-

The palace was fascinating, and Frisk’s eagerness to show you around was touching. Younger than you by more than a few years, they bloomed into greater and greater silliness the longer they spent in your presence; Papyrus and Asriel lagged behind and murmured to each other as you were bounced from library to gallery to each of the grand halls and meeting rooms, leaving you breathless in the face of the mage's boundless energy. It was plain that everyone amongst the palace staff knew them…and just as plain that they were all too intimidated to get closer than a friendly ‘hello’. So you resigned yourself to a night of advil and propping your feet up in preparation for the fundraiser, and dutifully followed them as they led you through the absolute maze that the palace was. 

It was nearly five by the time Papyrus rescued you, having noticed you lagging behind Frisk. Asriel wandered away with the mage in tow, promising to see you the next night, while your man slung an arm around your waist and spun you for a moment just for the fun of it, then settled you back down. “SO, WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO SIT AND RELAX IN THE ATRIUM HERE WITH ME, YOUR MOST HANDSOMEST BOYFRIEND? YOU CAN ORDER BASICALLY ANYTHING FROM THE KITCHEN TO THERE.”

You nodded gratefully, grinning at his silliness. “I would love that, I didn't get to eat lunch before we went on our little spur-of-the-moment excursion here. My god this place is stunning, honey. I don't think there's many places left like this in the human world. Even many of our own palaces aren’t so…so grand.”

He beamed down at you with pride, waving to a trio of Monsters as the two of you passed them in the vaulted hall. “JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE IT TOMORROW. FRISK DIDN'T SHOW YOU THE MAIN BALLROOM. IT'LL BE A SURPRISE!”

The atrium was as lovely as everywhere else, the overwhelming white of the walls mitigated by the huge overhead window showing the sparkling cavern ceiling in the distance, and rows upon rows of underground greenery and living plants set beautifully into the floor itself. Most of the other places Frisk had taken you, the only Monsters you'd seen were workers, message runners and palace staff. But here, it was plain that many of those in the room were simply visitors to the palace for one reason or another. There was even a small group of tourists, almost all humans along with a few Monsters and their young children, being led by a tall, graceful Cheetah and a friendly looking guard Dog. There was mixed seating everywhere, chairs and tables beside more comfortable sofas and cushions, in the wide variety of shapes, sizes, and heights that only a location made by Monsters for Monsters would have. You wished you could speak to the designer, or even one of the current architects maintaining and adding to the building, since it was presumably hundreds of years old. The logistics alone of trying to account for every disparate shape and size of visitor must have been maddening, and you'd be fascinated to learn how they did it. 

The ordering system was a whole other layer of entertainment, somewhere between a Star Trek cafeteria and an automat- there was a wall of little glass windows, each showing a magical illusion on it that cycled through what was available there. The sheer variety of Monster and human dishes alone was dazzling, but then Papyrus giddily showed you that almost everything could be customized from top to bottom in addition….

God, magic was so fucking cool. 

With a plate of steak stroganoff in one hand and a Monster mushroom dish in the other, you wandered over to a comfortable looking booth-type seat, grabbing silverware (of the human size and variety) on your way. Soon, he joined you with a mountain of lasagna and what looked like half a loaf of bread. As he began to dig in, a thought occurred to you- something you'd wondered before but never really given much attention to. It was undeniable that your man was a foodie, always excited to try new recipes with varying degrees of success. It was also undeniable that you'd noticed a trend with Monsters, especially with the more esoteric, non-organic types. For them, what they ate and the amount of it seemed to equate directly to their magic. You weren't totally sure how specific the connection was, you'd never asked, but you had noticed that on days Papyrus used a lot of magic he tended to eat more. Yet as far as you knew, he hadn't done any big or particularly strenuous magic for the past few days at all.

A quick Google search under the table while he chatted with a visitor that he knew offered a potential answer- comments from a message board of human and Monster conversations where one user explained that it was possible, for some Monsters at least, to stockpile magic. To save it up in their bodies for later use, allowing for more work to be done before they'd have to refresh it again.

The moment you wondered to yourself just what he could be preparing for, the answer was obvious. It was the same reason that you had requested a fireproofing spell to be added to tomorrow's outfit. The same reason that, everywhere you looked, you could see human security systems newly in place, cameras and sensors- Frisk had pointed them out to you.

A fundraiser gala, even one being held this far underground and in such a secure location, would be one hell of a temptation for the arsonist. And so, your partner was getting ready for something bad to happen.

During conversation, Frisk had angrily confirmed what was already being said on the news- the investigation was not going well. Human forensic work on arson depended on chemicals analysis, purchases, security footage…internet history and personal behaviors. Trying to hunt a person who set fires with human magic instead of chemicals, who motivated the public anonymously and with MORE human magic to attempt their own little crimes, who was apparently almost a genius with computers and cybersecurity, and had been targeting locations that either wouldn't have cameras or security due to being Monster owned or so low income that the people living there couldn't afford them…?

Almost impossible. 

You hoped the Monsters would figure something out soon; apparently Sans and the rest of his nebulous science people, as Papyrus referred to them, had been assigned wholly to the project of distilling and understanding worked human magic. It raised the question of why they hadn't done so with Frisk already in the eight years since the barrier fell, but there were many things about the mage that were kept very subtly and politely quiet.

“SO, SUNNY-BUNNY. WOULD YOU LIKE TO SLEEP AT HOME TONIGHT? OR WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY HERE?”

You jumped, drawn out of your thoughts. “Hm? Oh, I don't know. I guess we can stay here! It could be fun, like a little mini vacation after everything crazy going on this week. Do we need to go get shampoo or anything?”

The look he gave you was withering. “WE'RE STAYING IN AN AMBASSADOR'S SUITE. THERE'D BETTER BE A WHOLE LOT MORE BESIDES SHAMPOO IN THERE.”

Grinning, you flicked a stray crumb at him. “Oh, maybe you didn't notice- the very second I hung my dress up in the closet, I was drug out by my toes by some crazy little mage human. Barely got to look at the living room; very pretty by the way. I liked the addition of literally any other color besides white.”

A pair of freezing cold hands landed on your shoulders as a quiet voice you'd come to know fairly well murmured, “Oh, I didn't pull them that hard. Maybe just the pinkies.”

Giggling as you swiped at them, Frisk danced away for a moment before sitting down, putting a plate in front of you. “Raspberry cheesecake, they do something to the topping that's amazing. He-” they pointed at Papyrus “-told Asriel that you had enchanted clothing to wear tomorrow. That's good. I wanted to give you one other thing. I'm sorry, it's not to keep- making them was really hard. These are more like…a loan. And I need to do something with everyone that's getting one.” Digging into a pocket of their skirt, they pulled out what looked like two simple, braided-cord bracelets. Each one was strung with one large, uncut, deep red stone. Your man translated as Frisk cleared their throat and switched to sign for a moment.

“My magic is hard to explain until it happens. But I've found some books over the years, tools and things that can be used in tandem with It. If I have to use it, this will let you, um…be more clear headed. Like, um, maybe you'll remember better what happened before I used it. Make sure to wear them until tomorrow night is completely done and over with, at least. Mom and dad have one, so does Undyne- they need to come here, I decided to do it tonight once I heard you two and Undyne were all gonna be here. Asriel has one too, and…and Sans. If he'll take it. Az is running over to the lab right now to ask him.” They gave you a serious look. “Papyrus trusts you. So I do too. Please…don't tell anyone about this. Don't show it to anyone and tell them what it is. Just let it be a weird little piece of jewelry that you're wearing.”

You nodded seriously. “I won't. I don't know much about you, I mean, we just met and all. But I know something about you keeps Monsters safe, and they protect you because of it. I won't interfere with that.”

Papyrus' phone began to ring at that moment- when he checked the caller ID, he grimaced at Frisk. “WELL…IT COULD BE GOOD OR BAD.” He turned it to show his brother’s name. “I HAVEN'T TALKED TO HIM SINCE MONDAY, AT THE QUEEN'S BIRTHDAY. HE, UH…WE HAD A MOMENT.”

Frisk cocked a brow, and Papyrus gave you a nervous look, hesitating…

You took the burden off him- it was obvious that he needed to tell Frisk something that you couldn't know, and just as obvious that he felt guilty for it. The joys and trials of dating someone so intimately involved with the heads of their state, right? “We passed a bathroom on the way in here, right? I'm going to go look for it. Be back in a minute!”

Once you rounded the corner and disappeared from the room, Papyrus put his head in his hands. “YOU KNOW HOW SANS DIDN'T KNOW THAT I…KNEW?”

Frisk's face fell as they nodded.

“HE DOES NOW. I TOLD HIM SOMETHING MIGHT HAPPEN MONDAY NIGHT. WITH THE MALL, AND EVERYTHING ELSE…I WAS AFRAID IT WOULD SCARE HIM, MAKE HIM SICK LIKE HE WAS BEFORE, IF I DIDN'T WARN HIM AHEAD OF TIME THAT YOU MIGHT DO SOMETHING. BUT THERE WAS NO WAY FOR ME TO DO IT WITHOUT…TELLING HIM THAT I KNEW IT TOO.”

“Oh…shit.”

“...YEAH.” 

Frisk sighed heavily. “I made these thanks to him. Well, him and your brother. There was some old theoretical stuff of Doctor Gaster's, I combined it with a few grimoires that I found. It was crazy- one book, in the old lab? Literally fell off the shelf at my feet. As long as you're all wearing them, it should make you like Sans. But a complete recollection, rather than bits and pieces like he usually got back then. They take a lot out of me to make, and they're only good for one use. It's hard to find raw, flawless rubies this size.”

Nodding and sucking up his courage, Papyrus called his brother back.

“...hey, bro.”

“...HI.”

“guessin’ you're with frisk right now?”

“SURE AM.” 

“room for one more?”

And before Papyrus could even answer, a telltale rush of displaced air signaled his brother's arrival. Sans was dressed for the lab, plainly having been pulled away from something. “the prince said you'd both be in here. what's shakin’, bacon?” He offered his fist to Frisk to bump as he ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket. “all we need is his royal highness to get back, and the circle of secrets is fucking complete.” 

Papyrus knew that the chances of Sans teleporting Asriel anywhere were slim to none. Still, it was annoying for him to show up without the prince, forcing the other man to walk the whole way back from the New Home research facility across the square. Truly his brother knew better than anyone the value to be found within the gifts of forgiveness and understanding. But like a dog with a bone, Sans had gripped onto his hatred and distrust of the prince and would not let go. He couldn't recognize that the young royal wasn't the same person as the one who had tormented him for so long. In fact, his longest interaction with the other man had been early in their freedom, when he'd cornered Asriel and extracted, under threat of very literal death, his absolute oath that whatever power had blessed him with the ability to repeat and rewind again and again had ended, torn away from him when Frisk had used the gifts of Soul and Determination to form a new body for him. The screaming tongue lashing he'd received from the Queen after that would go down in song, her voice having echoed practically from one end of the palace to the other- it was a wonder she hadn't arrested him on the spot, or perhaps burnt him to a crisp. All she'd seen was her newly reborn baby boy sobbing in a corner, while Sans loomed over him with murder in his eyes and death in his hands.

Yes, he wished he could mend the hatred between them. But Papyrus also knew to fight battles he could win…and that wasn't one of them. “HERE, BROTHER. HAVE SOME LASAGNA WHILE WE WAIT.” 

“thanks bro. looks succulent.” He took a bite. “so…were you ever gonna tell me?”

“PREFERABLY, NO. IT WOULDN'T DO ANY GOOD, EXCEPT TO MAKE YOU UPSET. LIKE YOU ARE RIGHT NOW.”

“...probably true.” 

Frisk drooped. “I'm sorry. I…wish I could fix it. All of it.” 

Sans shrugged, looking terribly weary as he chased a piece of ricotta around the plate. “you fixed a whole hell of a lot. can't solve the world's problems.”

The three of them were quiet then, until you got back; Sans brightened at the sight of you, leaning over to give you a tight, one-armed hug. That made Papyrus smile, despite everything else going on- he truly loved seeing how much the two of you liked each other. You'd gotten comfortable around his brother within minutes of meeting him, and in return, Sans softened around you like he did around few others. “hey there fancy pants. excited for tomorrow?”

You grimaced. “I'm not sure if it's excitement or nausea yet.” Stepping behind him, you began to knead the shorter man's shoulders through his lab coat and blue sweater- Sans went limp in his seat instantly, the fork falling from his hand. “I keep picturing all the hideous angles and expressions that someone might capture of me and publish for the world to see.” 

When he didn't do more than let out a wordless mumble in reply, too busy melting into his chair under your hands like a cat having their chin scratched, Frisk rolled their eyes and signed with Papyrus to translate. “Press tomorrow is being managed. No paparazzi, no unapproved pictures or headlines. They won't be able to publish anything ugly of you, don't worry.”

“-NOT THAT THERE'D BE ANYTHING UGLY TO PUBLISH.” Papyrus leaned over and reclaimed his lasagna- it was plain Sans was too busy dying of happiness to eat any more. 

You winked over at him. “Oh, thank you sweetheart…say, have you thought to yourself what we should get your brother for his birthday? I heard there's a massage chain in town that you can buy a membership for…”

“oh my gawd yes please buy a massage membership for papyrus's brother. such a good idea, you're so smart.”

“Thank you, dear.”

God, Papyrus appreciated you so dang much. Just your presence had lightened the entire group; somehow, you'd known to zero in on his brother, distracting him and relaxing him. Asriel showed back up about twenty minutes later; Papyrus nearly rolled his eyes as Sans physically turned in his seat, putting his knees between you and Asriel and not even trying to hide it. To his credit, the prince didn't so much as blink at his brother, but instead took a step back and sat on Papyrus's other side rather than next to Frisk like he'd obviously been intending. Once there, he reached out and pressed the signet ring on his left paw to the center of the table- you gasped as the Deltarune blazed into existence on the wood surface, red lines of fire spreading down off the sides and around the small group- the moment the lines met each other a in a perfect 10-foot circle, the noise of the room vanished into silence. Then he sat back, and began to translate as Frisk signed quickly.

“Okay. I already told them some, and of course Asriel knows. We're all expecting something to happen tomorrow, right? And if not tomorrow, then next week- Sans, you've heard about the game?” Sans nodded. “Good. Mom, dad, and Undyne all have one of these- I'm giving them to you guys too for the same reasons as they have them. Because you're the strongest, and you…well, you know.” They'd sat another bracelet down on the table, the stone on this one as large as a silver dollar around. It’s glimmer distracted you from the wearily knowing looks the four Monsters gave each other. “Wear them nonstop. I was gonna take them back after tomorrow, but now…I don't think I'm going to. We'll have to meet once a week for me to keep the magic going.”

Sans opened his mouth, but Frisk spoke before he could ask it, their quiet voice weary. “It's an enchantment. Total recall upon regression. Complete awareness, temporally locked to me, as perfect as mine is. One time use.”

“...huh. that's some pretty hefty soul magic, squirt. that why you needed g's stuff?”

“Yeah.” Frisk closed their eyes, letting their head fall back as Sans slid the bracelet on- Papyrus did the same.

“can't say i’m ungrateful. any way to make it permanent?”

The mage see-sawed a hand in the air. “Maybe. Some of the really old stuff- and we're talking like, poems at that point -say that red Great Mages could sort of name people as like…trusted compatriots. A permanent version of this, with some huge insane ritual.” 

Your sound of surprise made everyone look up- even Papyrus had forgotten you were there, so caught up in Frisk’s words. Crossing the room came the imposing figures of the King and Queen, dressed for a day at court in Monster finery; gawking onlookers who'd already been fascinated by the silenced little group began falling over themselves to bow as they passed. Not even a minute later, Undyne came through a different doorway, waving off two trainees that Papyrus faintly recognized and trotting to catch up with her King. The two who had accompanied her began clearing people from the room. 

As Asgore approached, he held up a hand- the ring there flared in time with the runes across the floor, and a gap opened in the silence ward. You stepped to the side to make room as Sans and Papyrus stood to greet the royalty, looking nervous. 

“Alright, we're here. I thought this was supposed to happen tomorrow, before things begin.” The King’s deep, booming voice was full of tired good humor. “We just returned from the death rites for Elanyii Smith- the one who fell on the news.” Everyone nodded solemnly. “It was important that we go. The first of our people to fall since our freedom…well. No matter. Ready, Frisk?”

Rather than answer aloud, Frisk stood with a groan. They shook their hands out, cracked their neck, and then went very still, their palms touching prayer style as they closed their eyes. When they spoke next, you took a sharp breath- red magic steamed off their lips as they spoke. “Everyone, hands in the center please. Touching each other, stacked.”

The King did so first, his massive paw with its accompanying bracelet a heavy platform for the Queen’s, then Asriel's- Undyne nodded, sticking her hand out with a yawn. Papyrus went next, with Sans…

…but you hesitated. “I…I don't feel like I should be a part of this, I'm grateful that I'm being included in whatever's happening, please don't get me wrong. But this is bigger than me, isn't there someone that’s a more sensible choice to-”

“Put your hand atop Sans’, child.” Toriel’s voice was gentle, and ironclad. “Ask for explanations later, if they matter to you. I am too tired for debates and arguments.” 

You did as instructed, giving Papyrus a very worried look- he shook his head faintly. He didn't know why Frisk had decided to include you either, besides a nebulous assumption that they simply liked you, and wanted to keep you safe.

Frisk took a deep breath, bent their head to their cupped hands, and blew. The soft golden glow that suddenly appeared was so unlike their usual shade of magic; a miracle held in human hands, a point in reality that said 'Here, and no further' that they could return to again and again. They stepped forward, leaning so they could reach, and trickled that golden light over the top of your hand as if pouring water over your skin and down onto everyone else’s. You jerked, but it was as if every person was suddenly glued together- all you did was sway everyone where they stood. 

An invisible, impossible wind began to blow, stirring hair, fur, and clothing- Frisk began whispering something. Papyrus strained to hear, fascinated- “...I have not taken bread from the mouth of the hungry, nor clothes from the naked, nor fat from the poor…I have done no wrong. I have spoken no falsehood.”

A single bright flash left all of them blinking. Frisk leaned back, dropping their hands and looking satisfied. “There. It's done. And this is why, dad- wouldn't you rather have a whole night and day to get ready? Rather than an hour or two before something happens? Now, we come back here instead. Twelve hours to prepare…though hopefully we won't need it.”

Undyne examined her bracelet, starting to ask the King something, but Papyrus missed what she said - you'd frowned at Frisk’s words, the slightest noise of interest and understanding in your throat. He glanced at you, but you were staring at the table, chewing your lip.

The two older royals didn't linger, offering everyone weary farewells and leaving as soon as Asriel let his barrier spell fall- their son went with them, waving goodbye. Undyne didn't stay either, reaching to give Papyrus a high five and a poke to Frisk’s forehead, before walking over to where her two young trainees stood at attention at a far door. 

“well, that was fun. i feel so connected to you guys, now that we have matching friendship bracelets.” Sans tilted his chair back on its back legs, grinning as Frisk rolled their eyes. Papyrus chuckled to himself.

“Wait…I'm sorry. I…can every mage do that?” The three turned to you as you stared between them, genuine horror in your eyes. “Pick a point and…and go back to it? That's what you just did right, that's what everyone was hinting around?” Your knuckles were white on the back of the chair as you gripped it. “Oh my god, can he do that?! Over and over, pick a moment or something and just try again and again, jesus fucking christ! I-”

Sans recovered first, putting a hand out to cut you off. “first, you're too fucking smart for your own good. you're wasted at a county office, come work for the crown. second, no. frisky bits here is different. a really rare type of power.” He leaned over, drawing you down into the chair you clutched as you blinked in confusion, alarm plastered across your face. “the arsonist? fires, smoke, explosions. more generally, the ability to build up energy and pressure in something and release it all at once. usually physical things, but sometimes people. It's interpreted as instilling people with bravery, but it's more like giving them a compulsion, kind of. they have to be willin’ to get their hands dirty, he can't force anyone to do something they don't already want to do.”

Frisk was smiling so wide that all of their teeth showed- Sans translated, since Papyrus was too busy being flabbergasted and proud of you. “I wish you were a mage! We could have so much fun together.” 

“I…sorry, I'm REALLY glad I'm not.” You stared at the bracelet for a second, then up at Papyrus. “So is it, like…time travel? And this will let me remember going back in time?” 

He shook his head, but Frisk cut in before he could answer, nearly vibrating with excitement. “Do you play videogames??”

When you hesitantly nodded, they beamed at you. “Now you have a SAVE to return to!”

“Ew what the fuck what the fuck, I heard that, why did did I hear it…why did ‘save’ sound like that when you said it?!” You scrubbed your hands over your face, looking ten years older, and Sans began to giggle with glee. “oh this is fuckin’ hysterical. i've never seen a human react to it before- welcome to our world. we've got a five foot three eldritch monster running around, eating cheetos in the hallways of our palaces. none of their magic makes sense, the implications of it are absolutely fucked, and sometimes i think i've absolutely lost my shit and am just drooling somewhere still stuck in the underground.”

Frisk still hadn't taken their eyes off you, something fey and predatory in their faze. “Hmmmmm…I wonder if I could make you a mage. A little one, not a big one like me, that seems hard. What color is your Soul, do you know?”

You physically shoved your chair a foot back from the table as Sans took Frisk by the back of the shirt and yanked them down into their seat again; they'd been halfway to crawling onto the table to peer closer at you. “calm down, merlin.”

Seeing an opening, Papyrus faked a huge yawn, one that shook him from head to toe. “THIS IS VERY ENTERTAINING. BUT IT'S BEEN QUITE A WEEK. PERHAPS WE MAY REGROUP TOMORROW?”

Frisk nodded instantly, leaning over to give him a hug; over their head, you mouthed “THANK you”, looking like you were ready to kiss him out of gratitude. The mage wandered off, a spring in their step; the moment they disappeared out the doors, you rose to your feet, looking deadly serious. “Let's get the fuck outta here oh my god. I'm never coming back to the palace again.”

He squinted in suspicion as Sans gave you a sudden, evil look, then asked innocently, “no prob bob- say, what room were you guys in again?”

“Hmmm what was it- the topaz suite, right hone-!!!!”

…

Papyrus berated his brother ceaselessly for the next fifteen minutes, sitting with him at the dining table of your rooms, as you barfed so loud it echoed out of the beautiful bathroom- apparently, side-along teleportation didn't exactly agree with you. Despite his best efforts though, he couldn't entirely stifle a snort of horrified laughter as your croaking wail floated through the air.

“I hate magic!!!!”

Chapter Text

Brothers and sisters,

We live in an age of decay. An age where the unnatural walks beside us, unchallenged. The so-called "Monsters" slither through our streets, polluting our bloodlines, taking what was never theirs to begin with. The weak-willed claim that coexistence is our path forward, but we know the truth.

Fire is the great purifier. Fire does not compromise. It consumes, and in its wake, only the worthy remain. Our ancestors wielded flame to drive out the darkness, to burn away the wicked, to cleanse the world of those who had no place in it. We are the last bearers of this sacred tradition, and we will not falter. We will not bow to the cowards and sympathizers who grovel at the feet of beasts.

The time is now. Strike where the infestation festers. The alleys where they lurk, the shops that serve them, the homes they defile with their filth. Show them that the warmth of the flame is not an embrace, but a reckoning. A reminder that this world belongs to us, to those chosen by the fires of creation.

The first, second, and third spark have already been lit. You have seen it in the news, in the ashes of their dens, in the trembling voices of those who now understand that they are prey. But simple sparks are not enough. We must be the inferno. The cleansing fire that will make this world pure once more.

Do not fear the consequences. The weak will call it evil. The misguided will beg for peace. Let them. We know the truth. We know that fire does not destroy- it reveals. It purges. It makes the world whole again. Join me. Carry the torch. Be the flame. And let them burn. 

Read these words and draw upon my strength. Read these words and feel courage course in your veins, a warriors heart beating in your chest. A gift, from myself to you. A blessing from on high- a divine command, of which I am but a humble servant.

Our God is a jealous God. 

The fire rises.

Chapter Text

Papyrus woke the next morning feeling very strange. 

All through breakfast and lunch, he was absentminded, swinging between fidgets and silent consternation. Even your delight at the palace’s magical delivery system for the meals wasn't enough to lift the fog off him. He handed you his car keys without a second thought sometime around two, not even feeling his usual twinge of concern at letting someone else drive his (lesser, but still nice) baby, as well as an ID card out of his wallet that he never had to use. You'd need it to get in and out of the parking garage beneath the palace, your presence not registered to the magic of the place like his was. 

He finally realized what felt so familiar, as you gave him a concerned kiss and left to get your hair and other things done. Somehow, the air felt the same as it had when Frisk broke the barrier. Few other Monsters remembered that terrible, exalted day- a day that had somehow happened in two parts at once, like two movies playing at once on the same screen through the same speakers. Half a tragedy, a demon made of the Prince’s broken Soul unleashing evil and damnation utterly. Half a miracle, with a ten year old prevailing over the powers of a god himself, tearing the reality of his people’s captive existence asunder and forcing a child's tormented ghost to see the light. 

It felt like…potential. Power. 

What was going to happen that night? He didn't know. And he hated not knowing. It felt gross and heavy, weighing him down with nerves like a real bummer and leaving him unfocused on what could otherwise be a very fun night! 

The festivities were meant to refocus and reinforce friendships and allies, almost all those invited having pre-existing relationships with the monarchy rather than being new guests of their Majesties. Queen Toriel was now fully acting her part as the kingdom’s highest treasurer, controlling and directing her land’s considerable wealth to build and reinforce allies in a modern world that cared for little else. Privately, Papyrus was grateful that she and Asgore had come to some kind of agreement with each other; he didn't know if there was love there anymore, but there was at least respect and unity between the kingdom's traditionally titled Hearthholder and Honorblade. That had to be worth something, right? In the face of so much human craziness and awfulness, it was good that they at least gave off the firm illusion of unity. It gave him (and all Monsters) something to fall back on, even if everything else was screwed up. 

Feeling a bit like a crazy person, he texted his brother and asked if Sans felt the same- he got an immediate answer that yes, something fell off, and the other man hated it. When Frisk came by to say good morning on their way to do gods knew what, they looked pale and serious. Even the palace workers in the halls were subdued.

After Frisk had left, he sat down on the bed with his outfit spread out over his lap and around him, and began activating the spells within. It was delicate work, leaving no room for error; one mistake, and he'd have to find someone capable of recharging the runes inside to try again. When the last ward activated, he breathed a sigh of relief, leaving the clothing on the bed as he went to take a shower. He'd told you last night about their value, both magically and to him personally, and knew you wouldn't disturb them…not that you could truly do much of anything to the enchanted fabric. 

On his way past the open closet, as he already had three times that morning, he stopped and put a hand on the garment bag holding your dress, checking a fourth time to ensure that the wards were empowered and ready to be activated. The Spiders had truly outdone themselves- whether it was because they knew him and wanted to garner Royal respect, or because they were eager to have a human customer when so few humans were brave enough to go to them, he didn't know. He DID know that short of a total catastrophe, you would be protected, at least until the magic within ran out. It wasn't to the level of his clothing, but his had taken months to create, Asgore and Toriel themselves donating fur from their own bodies to be spun into the precious thread needed for the stitching.

Shaking his head at himself when he realized he'd been standing there like a dipshit stroking his fingers over a plastic bag, Papyrus turned and went into the bathroom. There, he took a long, long shower, doing his best to not think about anything in particular.

He was standing under the hot water halfway to a meditative trance when he felt your return, his Soul flipping over in happiness at your nearness. You cracked the door.

“HI honey! I'm not gonna come in cause of the steam and all. But I stopped at home, brought something over for you when you get out.”

That piqued his interest- Papyruses loved presents. He stretched, wishing he could stay in the lovely hot water forever like some of the aquatic Monsters that lived in hot springs, and turned it off with reluctance. Drying off with one of the enormous, luxurious palace towels, he threw on a pair of sweatpants that you'd been smart enough to pack for him the day before (had he mentioned yet that day that he loved you?), then wandered out with the towel draped over his head like the Madonna.

“OH…OH BUNNY. BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY. MY GOODNESS.” He couldn't stop looking at you, didn't want to. You often put a touch of makeup on, or curled your hair; little ways to draw attention to your beauty. This was like that, but elevated- the salon owner was truly skilled. Even he could see it, despite knowing nothing about human makeup and such. You looked like you, but like the highest, most perfect version of you, as if you were constantly standing in the sunlight and had just finished laughing in happiness. Your hair was beautiful too, and he had to give the woman points for cheeky creativity- she'd given you a crown using it, the small silver she-hawk hair piece from the Spiders pinned into the side of the braid and already humming softly with magical potential, giving supernatural clarity to your vision and hearing. 

“Do you like it? Is it too much?” You stared up at him with concern in your huge eyes, now so much more accentuated and lovely, and Papyrus nearly had to sit down. “Do I look okay?” 

“YOU…WOW. YES.” He reached out, trailing his fingertips over a tastefully loose curl that had been freed from the braid to frame your face- his hand was trembling, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt as new and giddy before you as he had on your first date. “YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL.” 

Your smile almost knocked him over- his realization that you were wearing some tiny, silky little black dress thing finished the job. He sat down hard at the table, unable to look away from you, and a silly, romantic, nonsense thought slipped into the back of his mind far too early; was this how you'd look the day the two of you got marr-

-stop it, Papyrus. He was already swooning in place, no need to make it worse with distant fantasies. His voice came out overly high as his hand dropped to slide down the impossibly smooth, lacey thing. “AND, HEH, UM, WHAT'S THIS?”

Somehow completely unaware of what you were doing to him, you smiled, fingering the low, low neckline of the little dress thing. “Oh it's a slip. To help protect the dress.”

He nodded, unable to find any other words, and saw with resigned humor at himself the very second you realized why he was acting like he was. Mischief, affection, and heat warred in your eyes as you bent down, your breasts deliciously close to his face, and he nearly gulped. “Oh so you really do like it, huh baby?” Papyrus felt pinned in place as you walked your fingers up his chest- he saw then that your nails were different from your usual, painted a more sophisticated, boring nude. But a closer look showed a secret. Little, almost unnoticeable dots of orange on one thumb formed the constellation that humans called the big dipper, The Phoenix. On the other, a single tiny orange starburst. 

If you held them up, they'd make the sacred glyph of the Guiding Star, in the color of his magic and Soul.

“They…were my idea, I hated not to have a little dot of your orange on me, at least. Since I'm not a Monster and all.”

He blinked up at you for a moment, not knowing what to say. Finally, he settled on simple honesty. “...YOU ALWAYS TELL ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THIS, WHEN I BRING IT UP.” You cocked your head, curious. “BUT SOMETIMES, I'D GIVE ALMOST ANYTHING TO HAVE BEEN WITH SOMEONE BEFORE YOU. JUST SO I DIDN'T FEEL SO…SO DUMB, WHEN YOU DO THINGS LIKE THIS.” Reaching out, he took your hands in his own and towed you in until you stood between his knees, then turned yours over so he could see the nails. “THIS MEANS SO MUCH TO ME THAT I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT, AND JUST…GEEZ LOUISE. I'M SPEECHLESS.”

How had no one ever warned him that women could stick you in place with just their eyes? How had he never learned that you could see it in their smile when they decided to be terrible and lovely and mischievous?! 

“Well if that tickles you…then I might as well add to my impressiveness.” You brought a hand from behind your back, holding something. “I got it out of my lockbox at the bank, on my way back from the salon.” 

Papyrus took the deceptive little cardboard box from you, curious now- he could feel the resonance of two old, well-cut gemstones inside. They weren't right for his magic, but if he recognized the sensation, his brother could do interesting spells with them. He was proven right when he opened the box and found two aquamarine cufflinks within, one set in a tasteful gold sun, one in a silver full moon. 

“They were my grandpa's. I…I'd love it if you wore them.” 

Glancing up at you, he realized you were perhaps a bit nervous, hiding it behind flirtation- it showed him a natural inequality. Three months for Monsters was a comfortable length of time to be in a relationship, to solidify their magical bond and confirm each other's affection and faithfulness through it. Three months for humans was barely enough time to be sure they liked each other. 

Concentrating, he pushed a bit of his awareness into that thread-thin connection between the two of you, that impossible-yet-present bond between your Souls that every source said shouldn't be able to exist; he wanted you to feel how flattered he was, that just the idea of wearing something of your family made him proud. Normally, Monsters in a relationship would just sense such things innately as they grew closer; the two of you couldn't benefit from such intrinsic awareness. Every sharing had to be deliberate…but wasn't that somehow so much sweeter? 

“I…WOULD LOVE TO. THANK YOU.” 

Several things flickered over your face, faster than he could make them out, before settling on resolution. You reached down, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him very gently. “I love you,” you murmured, staring into his eyes as you pulled back the tiniest bit  “And I won't lose you. He can't take you from me.”

He knew you meant the arsonist. What else could he say? 

“...OKAY."

-

Papyrus met Asgore and Toriel early, walking the perimeter with Undyne and three Dogs as they pointed out security checkpoints and hidden guards behind invisibility spells- he'd wanted to stay with you until things started, but your safety (and everyone else's) was more important. Still, it had felt so good for you to coo over him, admiring him in his suit and kissing him so warmly that he had trouble answering the Crown's summons.

“Somehow, the shithead's figured out how to pass through ward spells. Whatever. He isn't a freaking void mage, so he can't ignore human security systems. He also can't ignore these.” She gestured to the Dogs, who now wore holsters with handguns as part of their ‘medium’ armor. “We are not risking getting close to him, and he might be able to avoid spells; we just don't know enough about him. Yeah, I'd love an arrest. But if it comes down to it, I want him neutralized more. All of the palace guards have received training, and that's gonna be extended to every royal guard we have, in time. They’re a tool, and I can't ignore them anymore.” 

The Queen looked discomforted, but the King nodded grimly. “So be it. You've brought the idea to me before- it was high time we implemented it.”

Papyrus didn't say anything, only listened and thought. If the man didn't try something tonight, then it would have to be at the baseball game, or perhaps even at the Starshine Night festival in December, their most sacred of holidays. Each one offered a unique opportunity for the arsonist. Tonight, a chance to ruin royal relations, and potentially harm many humans who have chosen to ally themselves with monsters. The baseball game, for the publicity, and the satisfaction of so many targets and so small a place. And the Starshine Night festival offered a uniquely culturally damaging opportunity, a chance to turn a day of joy into sorrow.

Which would it be? How long could the nasty man control himself? It all depended on his mental state; if he was a slow, tactical criminal, or a madman indulging in newfound gifts. It also highly depended on how well his recruiting efforts online were going. As quickly as the crown and the FBI shut down new chat boards and websites online, a dozen more popped up. Most were copycats, their creators sniveling like children when they were caught. But one or two always linked back to that same untraceable source, no doubt the arsonist himself. Those were the ones that concerned him the most, the ones with direct calls to action, laced with magical influence on susceptible humans that the Monsters could sense but not understand.

Still, he had a job to do that night, and it wasn't this. Even if an attack did come, it was just as important to have people keeping the crowd calm, assuring them of their safety and the goodwill of their benefactors. That was his duty, along with several others that the Queen depended on for such things. Every Monster that she'd chosen to act in a similar position as him, once he'd proven his effectiveness, could be considered beautiful in a human way. A Mermaid in a huge saltwater aquarium along one side of the room. A trio of Fairy brothers, handsome and fascinating with their dragonfly wings and deep purple skin. A light Elemental and a shadow Elemental, each instructed to hold to a humanoid form at events such as these. All lovely. All trained conversationalists or natural social butterflies. And all trained, if necessary, to put down a human threat quickly and with minimal damage to their surroundings.

Papyrus had been the first, yes. And proudly, he also thought to himself that he was still the most effective at this whole ambassador-ing thing. But it was good to have as much help as possible.

He was late getting back to you; he'd hoped to have a half hour or so to just sit and relax. Instead, as he jogged down the hallway, he came face to face with you as you slid the chain strap of a small clutch over your shoulder and closed the door to the suite behind you. The dress whispered with power around you, invisible to your eyes and activated by the heat of your body- he could feel the arcing sparks of magic as they leapt between the threads, drawing sigils in a constantly circulating pattern. The deep indigo and sparkling beadwork made you look ethereal, like human royalty, crowned by your own hair and the silver hair piece. The Spiders had even made it slightly longer in the back, giving the entire thing the barest hint of a train. If you were anyone else, if you were there with anyone else, it would be borderline presumptive. On you, and beside him? It was perfect. They'd done a perfect job. 

You smiled up at him. “I was gonna come surprise you- a runner said you were down in the main ballroom.”

“I'D HAVE FALLEN OVER IF YOU DID. WOW, WOW, WOW. LOOK AT YOU!”

You held out your arm, the translucent, gem-dotted sleeve graceful and silk-soft on your skin, and compared the color to his suit. “The match is perfect. Is this like, standardized?”

He nodded, proud of how much you understood his people. “THE HIGHER A PERSON’S CIRCLE, THE CLOSER TO THE CROWN’S VIOLET THEY CAN WEAR. IT’S KINDA UNIQUE FOR US, SINCE WE AREN'T NOBILITY, BUT SANS AND I WERE BOTH UM…” He searched for the words for a second, not wanting to be a braggart. “WE WERE ELEVATED, KIND OF. FOR WHAT WE DO FOR THE CROWN. OR IN HIS CASE, WHAT HE DID. SO NOW THE THIRD SPHERE HAS LOTS TO COMPLAIN ABOUT, BECAUSE TWO STINKY OLD SKELETONS GOT TO JOIN THEM.” Grinning, he turned you, admiring how the dress dipped at your waist, some inner support making a perfect place to rest his hands. It was truly lovely, sensual yet demure as it showed off your curves with class. At a closer look, the indigo beadwork around your décolleté cleverly formed the Deltarune in its swirling patterns- Papyrus nearly laughed aloud at the sneaky Spiders when he realized that small section of beadwork was amethyst, not cut crystal glass. The entire ensemble was a declaration of loyalty, not to mention a veritable treasure to be passed down within your family. 

“I have to know. How much did this cost?” 

Papyrus bit his lip, hesitating, and your eyes widened. “Oh god, maybe I don't want to know. Do I want to know?” 

He shrugged innocently. “UM, I THINK IT WAS SOMETHING LIKE…OH, I DON'T KNOW, A HUNDRED AND TWENTY THOUSAND SOMETHING?” 

The face you made left him giggling. “Gold?! So move the decimal over and take a thousand off…christ, honey.” Then you leaned up, your lips a whisper along his jaw, tall enough in your heels to reach him more easily. “You know, Catty said I should start asking you for nice things…since you seem to win every damn time…” 

He chuckled, pulling you in, dropping his voice to a murmur. “YOU CAN PAY ME BACK BY HELPING ME PUT NEW STRUTS IN. I HIT A POTHOLE LAST TIME THAT WAS PRETTY NASTY.” 

“Okay!” God, you looked so happy just at the idea of helping him. How did he get so lucky? 

Overhead, a distant palace bell chimed six, and you grinned up at him. “Ooooooh. Ready?”

He nodded. “READY!”

Pictures were as painless as Frisk had promised- paparazzi were completely banned from the event, and the crown had provided assistants for posing and last-second appearance checks. The photographers, four human reporters and two Monster, even showed each person or pair the pictures for their approval before moving onto the next. Papyrus introduced you as he walked along, inwardly proud beyond belief at how easily you fell into a pattern of smiling and greeting each person, repeating their names back as you shook their hands or leaned in for a polite hug.

First on the schedule was dinner, a beautifully presented and served seven-course fusion of Monster and human cuisines. Toriel had made sure to seat him and you at a table with two other younger human pairs and a younger Monster couple, and soon they were all laughing at a story you told them from work. 

The night passed as nicely as he could ask for. When eight o'clock came, the six piece band began to play songs suitable for dancing rather than quiet background music. After a few minutes, Frisk and Asriel opened the floor by dancing a waltz together so gracefully that everyone watching clapped. Asriel was handsome in the long jacket, loose silk pants, and half-cape of a prince, and Frisk was stunning in a jeweled saree and gold bangles, the ruby that marked their station glinting at the base of their throat. The crowd that night was mostly older humans, many of which began pairing off now that the two royals had broken the ice- their generation still often knew how to dance.

As he guided his mage off the floor, Papyrus saw real love in Asriel's eyes. During the hushed silence of their dancing, he'd also noticed that Frisk had switched the finger that they wore their royal signet ring on…and the stone was different. Before, they'd worn it on the second finger of their right hand, the gold ring decorated with a large amethyst. 

Now, it was a ruby, and they wore it on the fourth finger of their left.

Well…good. Good for both of them. They both deserved to be happy, and there was nothing more to it than that. Papyrus hoped there'd be an announcement in the next year or two- the wedding would be incomparable.

He found you later in a gaggle of human and Monster women in one corner, all of them exclaiming over you, your dress, and asking a thousand questions about him and everything else that was going on recently. After a few moments of careful observation, he relaxed as he realized none of them were being nasty. You were smiling, peaceful and entertained as you talked with them all, singing praise of him and his people and confessing that, while of course you were as scared as anyone else of the arsonist, you also trusted their Majesties and the human law enforcement to capture him. 

Satisfied that you were fine, he continued making the rounds of the room, occasionally stopping back to talk with you (he even got you to dance once!). All in all, a good night so far.

About an hour later, around nine or so, you were settled in at a table watching a ridiculous performance. One of the humans attending had apparently taken offense at several aspects of the food- the common allergens listed on tasteful little cards in front of each buffet tray, the various chocolates labeled as fair trade and rainforest friendly -the types of things that his sort of person might get upset by. He was loudly complaining about people being ‘soft’, about such things not being needed when HE was younger…

Like the world's friendliest shark smelling blood in the water, Papyrus practically appeared beside him, having just handed plates and flutes of champagne to two older guests at a nearby table who'd been having difficulty with the distance to the food. He came over with a face as innocent as the angels, his brow furrowed in concern.

“OH, MISTER DROLET! FROM DROLET STEEL AND MANUFACTURING, RIGHT? IT'S SO NICE TO SEE YOU! YOUR WIFE COULDN'T COME?”

Drolet frowned, but Papyrus took his hand and shook it with cheer, gesturing to him as if showing him off to the other people around them. “MISTER DROLET HERE IS PRACTICALLY A GENIUS! HE'S PATENTED SEVERAL NEW IMPROVEMENTS IN THE MANUFACTURING FIELD.” And then, as perfectly timed as if someone was standing off-stage giving him cues, he turned back to the dour human man, his expression falling. “OH, OH NO. SOMETHING IS THE MATTER. PLEASE, TELL ME WHAT'S WRONG!” A dog with their master couldn't have looked as earnest in the moment. 

Faced with such sincerity, Drolet's ire faded. He grumbled something, but one of the others there shrugged toward Papyrus. “He doesn't like the food.”

Glaring, the older man flapped a hand at him- your boyfriend’s suit perfectly matched the color of the upholstery on the thrones at the front of the room, and the Deltarune was pinned to his lapel. Implying he didn't like the food in front of him was almost as bad as saying it directly to the royals themselves. Maybe even worse, since Papyrus had just told everyone how much he admired the man. “I didn't say that! I didn't say that at all!” He was turning red. “I just don't think all these labels and everything are needed, why, what's chocolate even have to do with rainforests?” 

Papyrus sighed hugely, his shoulders slumping a little, as if he was trusting these people enough to let them see he was tired. “AH…MISTER DROLET, I’M SURE THEY'RE VERY BORING AND EVERYDAY TO A WELL-TRAVELED PERSON LIKE YOU! SADLY, I'VE NEVER GOTTEN TO SEE THEM…AND I'M AFRAID MOST OF US NEVER WILL. A LOT OF AIRLINES WON’T LET MONSTERS FLY YET, AND BY THE TIME WE CAN, WE WORRY THAT THEY WILL BE GONE! SIXTEEN THOUSAND SQUARE MILES OF FOREST ARE DESTROYED EVERY YEAR FOR CHOCOLATE FARMING AND LIVESTOCK…SO WE MONSTERS DO WHAT WE CAN FROM HERE TO PRESERVE THEM, IN THE HOPES THAT OUR CHILDREN WILL SEE THEM.” A sigh. “EVEN IF WE…NEVER GET TO SEE THEM OURSELVES.”

Your eyes got wide; you had to turn away entirely to hide a grin as you realized something absolutely hysterically funny…and honestly, rather hot. 

Your sweet, gentle, sincere boyfriend was also apparently the most conniving little shit in the world. 

Those huge eyes, the sincerity in his voice, even the slight tremble at the end, as if he was almost emotional at the thought of what he had described… it was all for show, wasn't it? He'd just voiced the most carefully crafted and absolutely blameless reprisal you'd ever heard in your life, shaming the bossy fellow with such a performance of sincerity and concern that only a truly heartless person could continue to behave in such a way before him.

All the onlookers who'd spent at least the past few hours, and maybe even entire nights at previous events (who knew how many of them had been here before) with Papyrus gathered around him now to assure him that what the wilting man had said was not a universal human experience- that they did care about such things, and were happy that Monsters were trying to help with what were human messes! Some even turned to the sulking man and suggested that he might apply himself a little, to try to find the joy in life- the world was so dark and dismal, why make it worse by talking down to others for trying to help? One elderly lady, a wealthy and famous supporter of all the local arts and theater programs in the city, even stepped forward and hugged Papyrus, tugging his head down to rest against her as if she thought he was about to be overwrought... and from your angle, no one else could see as he looked at you over her shoulder and gave you the tiniest, most self-satisfied smile you'd ever seen from across the room.

Oh no, oh god, it was so hot. You didn't know what to do with yourself- you were adrift in a sea of fancy rich people, and all you wanted to do was jump on your brilliant, tactical man and kiss him madly. You'd seen hints of it before- like most palace staff, he never seemed to not be ‘on the job’. Even his work at the bookstore could ostensibly be seen as a way to foster human-Monster relations. But he'd never looked so fucking sneaky and proud of himself before, at least not to your face.

The hubbub faded after a few minutes, with the man slinking away and Papyrus moving on to a new group of people in the same room as you, and it was enough to make you want to scream with the fun and the thrill of it all. Now you understood. This entire event was a game for Papyrus. Like a skilled poker player prowling a casino for easy tables, he wasn't careless or nonchalant at all, though he was certainly having fun. It was a game, with royal stakes and royal bets, and the prize was the incalculable value of the support he could win for his King and Queen. The realization cast his other hobbies into a new light- his car and its associated activities, his love of betting on Undyne’s less than legal fights -your man was a born gambler. He made his choices of who to walk by and who to stop and talk to seem random and effortless, but they weren't at all. Each one was a bet against and for the house all at once.

Warm with the knowledge, you smiled to yourself, and wandered over to one of the buffet tables. You'd noticed a little girl there, doing her best to carefully put skewers of marshmallows and other treats under the chocolate fountain, but she couldn't quite reach. She smiled up at you with a front tooth missing when you offered her your help, then happily began dipping her snacks as you propped her on your hip and watched the room. A few tables away, an older gentleman wearing a decorated military uniform began to rise, plainly recognizing the little girl, but you motioned for him to sit back down. He nodded, grinning as she proudly showed him a carefully coated macaroon behind your back, and soon she had a whole plate of snacks as you slid her back to the floor. 

“Thank you!” She was so chipper and excited to be there that you had to giggle, shooing her back toward her father's table. A few other military-looking men were with him. Yet he was the only one with a young child along and no spouse in sight. No place setting next to him for one, either. It pinched your heart- you hoped theirs was a happy situation, not one born of tragedy. The little girl seemed too young to be his daughter, but she also looked too much like him to be anything else.

After stopping for a few minutes to talk with an older couple that recognized you as a county employee- the woman apparently knew Katrynn -you wandered out an open set of doors within a huge wall of enchanted windows, sighing with pleasure at the fresh, cool air of the Underground.

The long balcony you were on was gorgeous, decorated with beautiful lattice work and softly luminescent living vines grown up and over the wood, the tiny gourds on them looking almost identical to ones you would find above ground except that they each glowed faintly, bathing the entire area in gentle light. It was so picturesque it almost didn't seem real. Interspersed amongst them were little displays- art projects from the blended Monster and human high-school in downtown. Each child must have been viciously proud to learn that their work had been chosen for display. A few other guests were out as well, walking the perimeter and admiring the various projects, but after a few minutes of dallying, you turned away from them to sit on a stone bench and close your eyes for a moment. Nearby, Toriel passed with an entourage of people, talking; her musical voice carried out the open doors as she approached them.

It was a good, happy night. Perhaps everything would be fi…

…

You froze, your belly flipping over on itself.

Something was…something was wrong- you realized it all of a sudden, making you lurch to your feet and spin. You didn't know what, but your instincts were screaming at you, making you freeze. What could it be? Where? The hairpiece was buzzing faintly against your scalp, just as the Spiders had said it would if you were in danger. If someone was looking directly at you, with intent to hurt you. 

The beautiful vines and displays around you were now hazards, blocking your field of view and hurting your night vision as you peered out through them into the enormous cavern. The land behind the palace was undeveloped in comparison to the riot of buildings that filled every other inch of New Home. Left to the strange, magical flora and fauna found under the mountain, it was a fantastical iteration of a royal forest surrounding the back of the estate. Gazing out at it, you squinted…and felt the magic in the hairpiece shift, like water trickling over your eyes. Suddenly your vision sharpened, brightened- it wasn't perfect, but it was as if you now had binoculars with light somehow built into them. The heart-pounding, distracting panic faded a bit too; you would have to thank Maa every day for the rest of your damned life, if you survived whatever was happening here. It felt insane to even consider, but somehow you knew with every fiber of your being that you were in immediate, imminent danger. With clear eyes and a steady heart, you scanned the tree line for a moment…

There. 

*

Wearing bright orange, the hoodie dirty and scorched…his skin pale, his hair a blonde mop over his eyes…

You pointed at what you knew down to your very marrow was the arsonist himself, standing there under the twisted branches, with his eyes solid black and his mouth hanging disgustingly, unnaturally open, like a snake with its jaw unhinged. A deep, violently-orange glow boiled up inside, growing brighter and brighter as you took a deep breath.  

“He's here! In the woods, your Majesty HE'S HERE!!"

For the blink of an eye, everything near you went as silent as a grave, people freezing in place on the other side of the windows at your scream. You could feel your heart pounding, your hands and feet going numb as adrenaline began to pump through your veins- you couldn't tear your eyes off the nightmare image, so horrifying and sickening did the arsonist look. Then, from behind you, the Queen's voice echoed out, raised in a battle roar you'd never heard.

“GET DOWN!”

You dropped to the floor in a crouch, obeying on sheer instinct alone and dizzy from the sightspell readjusting, while a wave of boiling-hot red fire spread in a cone over your head like napalm. It turned the decorations instantly to ash and collided a hundred yards past the metal railing with a much smaller, weaker, but no less deadly gout of orange flame that would have struck you dead on, its caster aiming for the balcony and the open doorway directly behind you. The two magics must have been a hundred feet wide, roiling and roaring in the air as they fought for dominance…but the Queen was far older and far stronger. After a moment's battle, Toriel's magic consumed the arsonist mage's and kept rushing forward, flooding out over the landscape and destroying a quarter mile of beautiful plants and greenery in a heartbeat as it raced toward the tree line, gaining strength and size as it traveled. She was taking no chances, pulling no punches- it was impossible for the man to outrun it, no matter what direction he turned. If this didn't kill him, it would maim him. 

Good.

Someone tried to pull you to your feet; you screamed, shoving at them hard, but the human man in the suit only stumbled and kept pulling. “Come on, back inside! Hurry!” You realized then that it was the same man as earlier, the veteran, the one whose little girl you'd helped- he must have been out on the balcony too. His voice was barely audible over the panic of the people in the room beside you both as the crowd began to yell in fear. “Run!”

You spun to follow his instructions, but even as you did, you felt the magic woven through the very fabric of your clothing itself shift. A thousand-thousand threads, each finer than the finest hair, moving and twisting and knotting themselves into what felt exactly like the sensation of a brick wall at your back as they magically foresaw and prepared for what you now realized was coming faster than you could run from it. Feeling like you were moving through water, you looked up, and saw the man’s eyes get wide as a flare of orange reflected in his pupils, growing bigger and bigger while he stared over your shoulder…

…and what you did next was insane. No matter their assurances of sigil magic or whatever that the Spiders had claimed to work into the gown, it was insane. It was stupid. But the man had frozen in terror himself, and you could feel the heat of the magical orange fire behind you as it screamed through the air, cast immediately in the wake of the first wave and lower so it would be harder to stop…

…and his daughter was somewhere inside, and she couldn't possibly be older than seven or eight…

With an odd clarity and finality that had nothing to do with the Spider's magic and everything to do with the bravery inherent to your own Soul, you reached up, wrapped your arms around the man's neck, and dragged him back down to the ground as you threw yourself forward over him completely, putting your back and it's magical protections to the mage in the distance. Protections that he didn't have.

The arsonist’s second fire spell washed up and over the balcony a moment later like a tidal wave, the sound of it as loud as a train roaring around you, so jarring that you cried out yourself just to try to fight back against the abject panic of the noise…even while you somehow distinctly heard the sound of an agonized scream from the trees far away. 

Heat and flame boiled the air you were trying to breathe, scorching you, burning you…but vicious joy filled your heart despite it. The Queen's magic had found its mark. The evil fucking criminal may have gotten you, but he wasn't escaping this time. 

That had to be good enough.

You closed your eyes and braced yourself against what felt inevitable, as the magic within your dress fractured and warped under the onslaught of the mage's spell, and the man beneath you went limp.

…

…

…

(Out in the city, sirens began to wail as three homemade bombs went off. Gone were the embassy, a church famous for performing the first Monster-Human marriage…and Ebott County Services.)

Chapter Text

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was Frisk, standing in the open doorway, their hair blowing in a sourceless wind as golden power began to accumulate between their palms.

“No!” You threw a hand up, not caring who else around you was watching or listening- you had to stop them, if they were doing what you thought they were. “We're okay! We're okay, and she got him- someone please! Hurry!!”

An enormous form went charging past you, followed by a formation of guards- the King himself leapt from the balcony, a huge red trident in hand as he cleared a hundred feet in one huge leap, outpacing his soldiers in seconds as he bullrushed the treeline. Beneath you, the man groaned- your stomach rolled as you realized the horrible, charred meat smell you'd been smelling was coming from his left arm. You hadn't been able to cover every inch of him, and his clothing there was partially burned, partially melted away, the flesh black and raw.

Brisk, efficient hands joined yours as you tried to pull him to his feet; a royal guard you didn't recognize nodded to you as she got her grip under his shoulders and began dragging him backwards. That drew your eye to the balcony surrounding you- the stone was scorched black, the huge banks of windows on either side of the doorway singed as was the wall above them for some twenty feet. But the strip in front of you, in a steadily widening funnel leading up to the open door you'd been in front of, was still pristine white. It was almost as if the mage's fire had acted like a fluid, flooding up and over the balcony and crashing into the windows and walls…but you'd been a rock, parting it.

By sheer dumb luck and the power of the Spider's magic, your insanely stupid action had stopped his magical fire from getting inside the palace itself. 

You tried to stand and stumbled, not realizing how heavy your gown was without the subtle magics within to help give it shape and structure- you could almost sense the exhaustion in the fabric around you. It felt limp, lifeless, like there wasn't another drop of power inside the cloth. A hand took yours; Frisk hauled you to your feet effortlessly, but their gaze was locked past you onto the forest beyond, where a sudden bright flare of red magic gleamed. It made you shiver to see that they had their teeth bared in fury, and that their canines were just a bit sharper than they should have been for a human…

…were mages even human? Especially the great, powerful ones like Frisk? Or did they just look human so as to blend in better with the population around them; a cuckoo chick in the nest of society?

“You're insane,” they said bluntly, gesturing to the smoking stone around you as they turned away from the fighting in the distance with grim satisfaction on their face. “Absolutely nuts.” Then they leaned in, hugging you tight. “Thank you.” 

You hugged them back, trembling a little as the adrenaline began to wear off, then jumped as something clattered to the ground from your head. The Spider's hair ornament lay there, glowing a dull orange with heat, the hawk's ruby eye sockets now empty. Startled, you reached up…but your hair didn't feel damaged or singed at all where it had been.

“It's used up.” Frisk bent and, heedless of the temperature, picked it up off the floor. “You should keep it. It saved your life.” They sounded oddly…wistful, for just a moment, walking back inside while royal guards ushered the panicking crowd out of the huge ballroom. Swishing it in a nearby flute of abandoned champagne until it cooled, they wrapped it in a linen napkin and handed it back to you as you followed them in. “You should always keep things that do that.”

“Okay…” You were starting to shake, the clarity and bravery from moments ago starting to fade, leaving you feeling loose and watery. “I…oh god, Frisk, I'd be dead. I'd have died, if I didn't have…Jesus christ, I'd be…I…”

They looked into your eyes, and their own looked as hard as cut gemstones. “But I'd bring you back. Over and over, until you did what you were supposed to…and survived it.”

Supposed to? “What does that even mean?” you whispered, your heart pounding in your ears, but they were already turning away. Toriel had recalled them to her side with the slightest motion of her hand, standing at the balcony railing outside and watching the trees beyond. Some thirty feet away, Asriel bent over the man you'd saved, glowing red palms pressed to his arm as the soldier panted through his gritted teeth on the floor.

And beside him, frozen, staring at you with such horror and heartbreak in his face that you could almost feel it yourself, was Papyrus.

You were past words, your teeth starting to chatter in some weird panic-reaction. Reaching out with instincts you didn't have three months ago, you called him to you in the most honest way you could- through the hair thin magical bond between you.

You'd never, in a million years, have guessed what you felt back.

For a truly, physically painful few moments, Papyrus wondered if he should leave you. If it would be safer to end this in some way that could be ‘leaked’ publicly, if that would protect you from the arsonist and his followers. Somehow, he knew things weren't over with- the bad feeling in the air didn't feel ‘done’, even if Asgore had successfully captured or killed the man already. 

He stood there, staring at you as you hugged yourself in the middle of the room, your actions having just saved countless lives…and Papyrus tried to summon up the courage to do something that would rip his Soul in half and spit on the pieces.

For you, for your life and safety, he…he…

God help him, he couldn't do it. 

Phones began to go off, all around the room. One woman answered hers first, listened as her eyes went wide and her face went pale, and then began to shriek, “Bombs! They're blowing up the city! They destroyed a county building and a church a-and, and, the embassy! Oh my god!” She began yanking on the woman next to her, panicking even worse, her voice rising to a shrill, unintelligible scream. 

Other people began to get similar news, though none so complete as hers- he remembered, vaguely, that she was married to the police chief. 

Then, something took hold of his arm in a tight, sharp grip, making him jump- your hand was iron, your nails digging in, as you ignored every single person around the room and forced him to follow you, dragging him like a dog on a leash. Every time he tried to slow down or stutter out a question, or turn back to the growing panic in the ballroom, you yanked him hard - how had he forgotten that humans were so damn strong? 

Reaching a small sitting room off the main hall, you nearly threw him inside, slamming the door behind yourself and whirling to glare at him with the most genuine anger in your eyes that he'd ever seen. You put your back to the door, trapping him.

“B-BUNNY, WHAT-”

“Don't fucking ‘bunny’ me.” Despite himself, despite everything, he couldn't help but notice how your chest rose and fell in the low neckline of the dress, your panting, furious breaths straining the delicate fabric there. Your earrings trembled; you were shaking with anger and fear. “I just…I just almost died Papyrus, so help me fucking god if that had lasted one more second, the magic in this-” you fisted the fabric at your sides, shaking it “-would have given out, and I'd be dead!”

“I KNOW.” The words left him as a whisper. He could picture it, could see it in his mind's eye with perfect clarity, was imagining all the ways it could look and happen.

“I don't give a shit what fucking Frisk says. I don't care if they say they'd have ‘fixed it’ or whatever!” Never had you directed this at him before, never had you so much as raised your voice at him. “And so I…I see you there, literally thirty feet away from me, looking at me like I'm dead already, and I t-try to reach out to you-” 

Did you know you were starting to cry?

“-and what do I feel? What do I hear you considering?!”

Oh no. Shit. Papyrus opened his mouth, his mind scrambling, using the barest touch of his power to reach into the bond between the two of you and finding it as sharp and painful as broken glass with your anguish.

“No! Shut up! Don't even try to make an excuse! You thought it would be better for me if you left me?! After I told you I LOVED you, after I decided to put my faith in you, Papyrus you absolute BASTARD-”

You threw out a hand, pointing at him in accusation…and it was by sheer luck and training instincts that Papyrus dodged sideways. He felt the magic drain from his Soul, down the straining bond between the two of you, and clumsily out your fingertips, an unshaped white blob of power slamming into the decorative bookshelf behind him and leaving a splintered, smoking crater in the wood.

You went as pale as a fucking ghost. 

Papyrus stared between it and you, and his mouth ran without any control whatsoever. “I-I-I THOUGHT IT WOULD PROTECT YOU, MAYBE, THAT HE'D TARGET YOU NOW THAT HE'S BEEN HERE AND YOU S-STOPPED HIM-” He couldn't shut himself up. “-AND YOUR PICTURES WITH ME ARE GONNA BE PUBLISHED AND…AND…”

He looked down, staring at your hand, the hand that you had just cast his magic from, now shaking in mid-air. Your lips peeled back from your teeth in a terrible expression of fear, looking at your own arm as if you were afraid to let it get close to yourself again.  

“Py?” Your voice was tiny, your eyes enormous, every scrap of anger draining from your face and leaving behind abject horror. “Did I just…did I just do what he does?”

His heart melted. How could it not? He covered the few steps between the two of you and pulled you in close, cradling your head to your chest. “NO, NO NOT AT ALL. IT'S OKAY, SHHHH.”

“No, no, I-I-I don't wanna get mascara on your suit, wait-” you tried to pull back, but he didn't let you. What madman would let go of a miracle? Awed and shaken beyond belief, he took your hand in his. “I DON'T CARE ABOUT THAT. AND WHAT YOU FELT EARLIER? I COULDN'T DO IT ANYWAY, I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO. I LOVE YOU TOO MUCH AND I LOVE BEING WITH YOU TOO MUCH. IT WAS JUST A PASSING BAD THOUGHT HUNNY BUNNY, YOU'LL…YOU'LL PICK THOSE UP SOMETIMES, AND I’LL GET THEM FROM YOU. GIVE IT A SECOND TO SEE IF IT’S WHAT I ACTUALLY BELIEVE OR NOT.” Then, taking a deep breath, he looked down right into your scared eyes. “YOU'RE NOT LIKE HIM. YOU'RE NOT A MAGE. THAT WAS MY MAGIC, COMING TO YOU, TO PROTECT YOU. BECAUSE YOU WERE SCARED AND UPSET WITH ME, AND WE WERE CLOSE ENOUGH HERE FOR IT TO HAPPEN.” 

You stared up at him, your words a whisper. “I…I don't want to start fires, I don't want to be a murderer, I don’t-”

“YOU WOULDN'T BE ONE. MY MAGIC, YOUR SOUL. BUT EVEN OF YOU WERE A MAGE, YOU WOULDN'T BE A MURDERER UNLESS YOU DECIDED TO BE. THEY AREN'T EVIL JUST CAUSE THEY'RE MAGES. GUNS AND SUCH AREN'T EVIL UNLESS THEY'RE IN THE HANDS OF AN EVIL PERSON, RIGHT?” 

You didn't say anything. 

“WELL, THIS IS THE SAME.” An odd texture interrupted him gently stroking your palm with his thumb. He glanced down, and realized the skin there was pink and shiny. You looked down where he did, then hissed, as if feeling the small burn there for the first time. “AH…OKAY. SO IT'S GONNA BE THE SAME FOR YOU AS IT WAS FOR ME WHEN I WAS A BABYBONES, BURNING MYSELF ON EVERY SPELL I WORKED. I'LL TEACH YOU…OH DON'T CRY! IT'S OKAY, NO-” 

You buried your face in his chest, starting to sob.

Some time later, Papyrus left out a door you hadn't even known was in that room, partially hidden behind a tapestry at the back. He said he'd come back, that he just wanted to check on how things were, and if they'd caught the bastard yet. 

You didn't want to see anybody at that moment, feeling gross and tear stained, but the second you opened the door you'd come through for some fresh air, you came face to face with a very startled Toriel who looked like she'd just slid down the wall across from you to sit on a low bench there. Plainly, she hadn't known or noticed that you and Papyrus were even in there.

“Oh I-I…your Majesty I’m sorry, I-”

Toriel turned her face away, but not before you saw a single blood-red tear fall down her cheek. 

You hesitated, feeling terribly exhausted by everything that had happened that night, and not sure what the proper protocol was in a situation like this with royalty. Some distant part of your brain realized that there must be levels of organic-ness to Monsters, for you could see the muscles in Toriel's jaw and neck clench as she tried to keep her lips from trembling. Her hands, folded in her lap, still did despite her squeezing her fingers together.

Oh…oh fuck it. Feeling like you were walking through quicksand, you trudged over to her, settling down awkwardly on the bench in your beautiful dress and hugging the large woman as best as you could- what would they do, arrest you? For a moment she froze, turning her head to stare at you, and you felt like a book that had been plucked from a shelf and rifled through while her eyes locked onto yours. It was a magical sensation that was almost invasive in its intensity; she searched your heart as thoroughly as it had ever been searched, seeking ulterior motives or political reasoning behind your actions.

When she found nothing more than what you assumed was sickening anxiety and exhaustion, the Queen let her forehead fall to your shoulder, and wept as silently as you'd ever heard someone weep.

She only allowed herself maybe a minute or two of that weakness, before even her shuddering breaths went quiet and steady again, the emotions back under the iron control of a woman born and raised to lead. Then, in a voice so soft that you could barely hear it, she murmured, “Forgive me child, it is just that…I never wanted to use war magic again. Never wished to cast such hateful spells even one more time.”

What else could you say? “I'm so sorry.” The sadness in her voice was ancient- here was a woman who had lost a terrible, terrible war. Who had never healed from it…and never would. “I'm so, so sorry.” 

Toriel nodded and sat up, taking your hand in hers. “You saved lives today, and built the most important type of goodwill with those invited. We will not forget it.” You tried not to wince at her touch, but of course she caught the movement instantly, flipping your fingers over until she could see your burnt palm. “What is this? I did not feel the wards fail, but perhaps the Spiders…”

You shook your head, biting your lip…but the words came tumbling out anyway. Your family was on the other side of the country, your mother and father busy raising the children that they’d started having ten years after you were born a surprise. One look at this beautiful, caring woman's concerned face, and you couldn't shut yourself up. It all came out. Your hesitant joy at the apparently impossible connection that you shared with your man, your fear and anger at what you'd felt earlier…and the way that somehow, somehow, proximity and emotion had allowed you to draw magic out of him and into yourself in a way that terrified you to the point of feeling sick.

By the end, you were hugging one knee to your chest, staring at the blackened little starburst on the bookshelf visible through the doorway before you…the Queen’s quiet huff of a laugh made you look over at her as a single touch of her fingertips healed the burn. She was shaking her head. “Oh my poor dear. You are not the first… and you certainly will not be the last. We do not advertise these rare possibilities, but, well…perhaps we will have to send you to the primary school magic classes, where they teach meditation and basic control. Or else the next time your man upsets you, he may find himself in quite a hot situation!”

You prayed to god she wasn't serious about sending you to Monster kindergarten; a peek at her expression showed a tired, teasing smile on her muzzle.  

“But he was right about one thing. None of us can fully control what we think or feel at any moment. Part of the thread between the two of you must be the awareness of that fact, applying what you know of the other person to decide if the things you sense are instinct and impulse, the first emotional thoughts we all have in a situation, or if they are their actual decisions and reality. It is even more difficult for you, since you are receiving flashes, like still photographs, rather than the ongoing ‘movie’ of emotions and thoughts that most bonded couples receive.”

“Is it…common? Amongst Monsters? To have such…such a palpable connection?” It felt so strange, to be asking the Queen of all Monsters for what boiled down to relationship advice. But you didn't have any close female Monster friends to ask. 

“It is as rare and priceless as precious gems.” Coming from a woman whose neck and chest were glimmering with large, flawless diamonds, it was a humorous comparison. But you couldn't deny the authenticity in her voice. “After years of marriage or love, some level of magical interconnection is expected, yes. But…seldom like what I've heard about you two, and even more rarely so early. Though once, long, long ago, I knew of a few couples who were similar, when we all lived as one.” She winked at you as you blinked in surprise, blushing; where had she ‘heard’ things about your relationship? Did Papyrus…? 

“Do not be surprised that your partner came to me. Who else was he to ask? An older brother, who eschews love for fear of it being ripped away? An eldest brother, once a potential source of advice, now dead for decades?” Toriel sighed. “Such tragedy in that family…in all Skeleton lines, through history. Broken, hurt people, finding each other and building lives together. I am happy for the two of you, and thrilled to see where your care for each other will lead. Do not turn your back on the gifts that love gives, my dear girl.” 

With that, she stood gracefully, offering you a hand up- mere moments later, Papyrus rounded the corner of the hall, Sans in tow. When had he…?

Toriel cocked a brow, and Sans cleared his throat.

“we've got him.” 

The veteran you'd saved, a highly awarded army captain who had spent his retirement founding and building up a national veteran's rights organization, insisted that he see the mage. 

“I want to see what a mons…what a creature like him looks like. I want to look him in his damned eye.” 

Sans appreciated that he'd caught himself before he finished the word, though few Monsters actually found the turn of phrase offensive. After all, it was a very common human saying, and its meaning wasn’t the same as the name of their race. But the thought mattered. He liked the man even more when genuine relief came into his eyes the moment you walked into the room.

He strode up to you, shaking your hand firmly. “You saved my life. That was damn brave. Someone said you had a magic spell or something that protected you- thanks for protecting me with it too.” He motioned to his arm; the fabric there was singed, his skin bandaged and partially hidden under the jacket draped over his shoulders. "Prince Asriel said it's hard to fix a wound from human magic- what a world we live in, that a sentence like that just left my mouth. But they patched me up.” He squeezed your hand one last time, before letting go. “My daughter still has a father, thanks to you.”

Sans couldn't help but smile a little at how you flapped your hands at the man, reaching up to run a finger under your eyes…though he exchanged a look with Undyne at the man’s words. ‘It's hard to fix a wound from human magic’. It was something Monsters had forgotten in their thousand years of captivity.

“Stop, stop, I just stopped crying.” You sniffed, smiling weakly at the man. “I'm glad you're okay. She's a really sweet kid…is she okay?”

“Went home with her aunt and uncle. They were sitting with me.” He turned to one of the guards. “Now where’s this little shit at?”

Sans tuned the rest of that out- he'd blinked to the palace the moment the explosions went off in the city, fearing the worst, and had fought for almost fifteen minutes to find anyone who could tell him what the fuck was going on as a crowd of nearly five hundred people milled around in panic. His horror at hearing that you'd been at the very apex of the spell that had nearly spilled into the entire ballroom was matched only by his relief at his brother's assurances that the wards in your clothing had done their work. The earlier stress of the day- he and Catty had called it off for good this time, a friendly ending but still bittersweet -paled in comparison to the fear he'd felt when he'd finally stumbled into the panicking, evacuating ballroom, and neither his brother nor you were anywhere in sight. Only by catching a royal guard by the arm (and nearly earning a spell to the face before the woman recognized him) did he learn that the two of you were alive and well, having disappeared off somewhere together. Slightly reassured, he started looking for other people he knew.

He'd found Frisk first, standing out on a large balcony and watching, unblinking, as the King drug a gagged, cuffed, and screaming man slowly back across the blackened fields outside, a platoon of twenty King's Guards holding human guns leveled at the mage as he fought every step. 

He said nothing for a moment, watching while Asgore, his face set and emotionless, hauled the man back to his feet when he tried to throw himself to the ground for what must have been the latest of many attempts. 

“We were wrong.” Frisk's voice was soft, their ruby-eyes tracking the other like a falcon tracked a rat. “There's more to him, I don't know what. But something.” 

Sans sighed, feeling a thousand years old. “there always is. more to a problem, i mean.”

“Yeah.” Frisk ground their teeth for a moment, the awful squeak audible even to Sans. “I wish we knew more. I wish I knew more.”

“i’m sorry, kid.” Translating Gaster’s research was grueling, exhausting work. The man had used an encoded shorthand that took hours to get a few scant pages deciphered, yet he was their best modern source on Souls and human-magic studies. He'd done centuries of legwork, translating and researching ancient, crumbling tomes and scrolls. They just needed to decipher his stuff. “we're going as fast as we can.”

“I know.” Frisk reached out without looking and Sans took their hand in his, remembering a time when they'd barely come up to his chest and done the same. 

A pause….then-

“Are we all evil? Do we all do terrible things?” Frisk turned to Sans, looking haunted. “Even I…I hurt people, the first few times, trying to find a way through. Trying to figure out what would work. Is every mage born wrong like that?” 

Sans took a long, long time, before he finally answered, “i don't know…but it doesn't matter. you made the right choices, when it was time to. nothing else matters.” The mage below was close enough now for them to see tears of fury dripping down his cheeks- his neck flickered with molten orange power from within, then faded again as the runetags plastered over his mouth and nose flashed white, negating the magic. “i don't think any group of people is all good or all bad. though this particular little fucker is certainly swaying the average.” 

Frisk sighed, then pointed back inside. “Papyrus and her went off somewhere. You heard what happened?”

He istened in growing horror as Frisk told the tale, turning to look at the cone of untouched white stone and realizing he was standing exactly where the magic had crashed into you, parting around your body. 

Now he stood off to the side in the main ballroom after following Frisk back in, watching while Toriel acquiesced to his request, and two guards led the veteran- Edwin, apparently -off toward one of the sets of doors leading deeper into the palace . There were specialized cells in each of the three palaces, made to render all magic inert- the eastern complex only had one, and it had never been used in all its history. 

Good. He hoped it was horrible for the fucking man to be in. He hoped it hurt. 

Across the room, Papyrus caught his eye, then flicked his gaze toward you- he wanted Sans close to you, since he was busy with Undyne and the guard discussing something or another. He nodded, ambling over to where you sat in an errant chair, staring at the floor.

“hey there, sailor. need a drink?”

You sighed, giving him an exhausted, weak smile. “I'd take a couple Xanax, actually.” 

Sans pondered that for a moment, thinking about his dwindling supply of human substances- he probably had a few left, and it was better that you have them for a genuine moment of stress than him just taking them for fun (he was trying to be better, hadn't bought anything new for a few months now).

You swatted at him gently, motioning to the chair beside you. “Sit down, you pusher. I'm only half-serious.” 

“and a half-bar is a pretty standard dose, so both halves work out.” Sans settled in beside you, noticing but not commenting on your red-rimmed eyes. “so what's this i heard about you saving the day?”

You shook your head. “I don't wanna talk about it.” 

“fair enough. can i do anything for you? snack? drink?”

“Well…” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe. I don't know if it's something you can help with or not.”

He cocked a brow, intrigued. “shoot.” 

Gesturing at the dress, you reached down and fluffed its thick, many-layered skirt. “This is beautiful, the fabric is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. But I think part of the magic somehow like, made it lighter? Helped support it? It weighs a ton now; with all the power used up from earlier I feel like I'm walking through water. Can you help with that? Just until I can get the damn lovely thing off.” 

Frowning, he reached out and put a hand on your arm, questing into the fabric with his magic. After a moment he found the nexus of the gown; the amethyst cluster of beads forming a Deltarune at the very front of your bosom. “sure. it won't be perfect- my magic's light blue, not a very good fit for an amethyst anchor. but i’ll give it a little juice.” 

“God, thank you.” 

As Sans carefully fed power into the dormant enchantments there, reactivating the tones of Gravity and Repulsion inherent to all purple magics, he dimly realized that he felt perhaps a tiny bit jealous of his brother. 

No, not jealous. More like…a low, aching sadness and wistfulness. Papyrus was so happy with you, and who wouldn't be? You were wonderful. Meanwhile, Sans was four hours post a breakup that should have been finalized months ago…and he didn't feel anything but dull disappointment and loneliness. 

“there you go, girlscout. that better?” 

You stood, swirling back and forth, then turned and hugged him tight. “Thank you, Sans.” Pulling back slightly, you sniffed, then scrubbed at your eyes with frustration. “Goddamn it, all I've done for the past hour is cry. Yes, that's much better.”

Papyrus was coming back now; it gave him a chance to flee before he really started feeling sorry for himself. “any news?”

“NOTHING YET. FRISK IS DOWN THERE NOW WITH ASGORE AND THE GUARDS, SEARCHING HIM. FBI HAS BEEN NOTIFIED, BUT THE CROWN WANTS HIM FIRST. SO IT’S ‘HURRY UP AND WAIT’ TIME.”

“my favorite. i’m gonna go for a walk, ok?”

Papyrus nodded, pulling you in as you sagged against him. “BE CAREFUL.” 

Sans wandered off. He considered going down to see the arsonist, but decided instead to go for an amble along the front hall of the palace. The large portrait gallery there was lovely, and he needed something nice to distract himself…so imagine his surprise when he turned the corner into the room and came across a woman sitting miserably on a bench along the far wall, sobbing into her hands. He'd wondered what that sound was as he approached, but the acoustics of the palace stone could be odd…

He made his footsteps louder as he walked up, but the lady still jumped when he got closer, her eyes wide and fearful for a moment. Sans froze- he had never seen that shade of blue in a human's eyes, so bright that they almost had to be colored contacts. 

“Um, I'm s-sorry, I…” She dug out a tissue from the purse in her lap, dabbing under her eyes and absolutely ruining her makeup- it didn't matter at all. He felt tongue tied in front of one of the most genuinely beautiful women he'd ever seen. Her dress was a lovely chocolate brown, her hair dark and long. “Am I not supposed to be here? I'm really sorry, I came with my boss and her husband, but they left without me, and-”

“wait, they left without you?” Sans blinked, shocked out of his admiring stupor by her words. “are you serious?” 

“Yes!” She threw her hands up, fresh tears spilling over her cheeks. “I can't order an uber; apparently something's happened in the city and the app just keeps saying that there's no drivers available. I'm an executive assistant….um, Veronica Stein's, I mean. She's a board member for Intel North America. And when everything started happening, they left without me! I've worked for her for four years, and she and her husband left me here!” 

“that's…wow. that's actually, genuinely terrible. jesus christ.” Sans felt horribly underdressed in front of this woman, wearing the same button up and jeans that he'd worn to meet Catty hours ago for that ugly little conversation. “are you staying in town?” 

She nodded, looking miserable. 

“okay. well, first, i’m sans. nice to meet you.” He stuck out a hand. She took it, sniffing. “Nitya Patel.”

This was stupid. He knew absolutely nothing about this woman, and was fresh off a breakup- not the best time to be making big decisions. But Alphys had been complaining for months that navigating human grants, industries, and a thousand emails a day was another layer of stress on her job that she just couldn't handle anymore…and this lady had to be good if she'd worked under someone so involved at such a huge company…and he hated seeing women cry, always had. 

“nitya, are you looking for a change of scenery? maybe a new boss that doesn't, i dunno, leave you behind in a palace that's being attacked by some magical psychopath?” As he asked, he pulled a business card from his pocket. When he handed it over to her, the woman read it, then jerked her eyes up to him. “Wait, you're that Sans? Doct-”

“hey, hey, hey, titles give me the willies.” He put his hands up as if to ward off the words. “the head of a different department from me is about to jump off a roof if she has to deal with one more grant proposal or marketing symposium, and i think you might be the answer to her prayers. i promise we can match whatever they're paying you plus , and one of our guaranteed benefits is not being abandoned in weird castles.” 

The woman stared at him, and resolve came into her beautiful eyes. “...any help with moving expenses? Our headquarters are down south in San Angeles, I have an apartment there that's about the size of a refrigerator box. I haven't seen much of Ebott yet, but what I have is…is pretty. I like it.”

He grinned “our budget's very flexible.” 

A quick voicemail later (“Miss Ste… Veronica, it's Nitya. I quit. Effective immediately. Try not to leave your next assistant behind in a damned foreign country.”) and she was giving him her information. That done, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye- a palace runner. “oh good, you're conscripted. go find a general staffer who isn't busy, and tell them we need to deliver someone safely to the wyndham downtown.”

Papyrus left the first chance he got, leading you back to the suite you'd stayed in. Once there, he collapsed down into a chair, a rare moment of exhaustion overtaking him. It was all so much. 

“Can you help me with my zipper?” You stepped up between his legs, reaching out to smooth your hands over his skull for a moment and massage his temples- he sighed, leaning into your touch. Every moment spent near you was another moment that proved you were still alive. He barely wanted you to leave his sight. “Get me out of this thing, and I'll give you a good massage instead of this half-assed one.” 

“I SHOULD BE DOING THAT FOR YOU. YOU DID SOMETHING AMAZING TODAY.” Dutifully, he reached up and carefully unzipped the delicate dress, enjoying the simple, warm comfort of watching his partner get undressed before him. You draped the gown over the back of the couch in the living room area of the suite, then patted beside it with your hand. “C'mere.” 

He trudged over, leaving his jacket over one chair and his tie over another, deactivating the magic in each piece as he took it off. A last moment spent hopping on one foot and then the other, and he draped the tailored pants over your dress, then collapsed down on the couch in his boxers and open shirt.

After a few minutes of massaging his head, you murmured, “What a fashion statement…” He smiled at your words. “No but for real, you really could be a model.” 

Rolling his eyes and blushing a little, he tilted his head back enough that the top of it pressed into your belly over the couch, the silky fabric of your slip warm and soft against him. “HUSH.” 

“I'm serious. Ugh, I should probably get a shower, wash all the hairspray out…I'm just so tired. What a fucking day. Thank God they finally got him. But…I wonder what's gonna happen next in the city.” Katrynn had called a few hours after the arsonist was captured, saying that, for the next week, the plan was still for the department employees to be off. After that they'd reassess the threat, and eventually either move into one of the other County offices until their building was repaired, or work from home. You'd opted for the later immediately, citing security concerns.

Sighing, you wandered toward the bathroom- Papyrus finished getting changed, then snuggled down into bed and waited for you, feeling terribly lonely for your touch and straining to hear you in the other room. After a minute or two, you called, “Honey? Can you come here?” 

Trotting over eagerly, he opened the bathroom door. “HM?”

“Sorry, just…can you stay in here? I'm freaking out and I don't know why.”

“I THINK YOU'VE GOT A PRETTY DANG GOOD REASON TO BE FREAKED OUT. AND SURE. STEAM ME LIKE A LOBSTER, I'M READY FOR IT.” 

You said nothing else as he settled up on the sink and leaned his head against the wall, watching you and thinking about nothing in particular…but he felt you. It was as if you were pressing a careful fingertip to your bond over and over, testing it and feeling along it. Sighing as some of the day’s tension left him, he pushed into it as well. It was a good thing for you to practice; apparently, you would need to develop the inherent control and instincts that all casting Monsters did. So he held it in his focus, feeling your butterfly touch flicker on and off of it.

A flash of simplistic emotion carried through, entirely by accident- guilt for yelling at him earlier. You were replaying the moment in your mind. Instead of answering aloud, he attuned himself to understanding and empathy, letting the tones carry through to you. You were so easy around him, taking the facts of his existence and people in stride so comfortably, that sometimes he forgot you weren't magical yourself- you wouldn't instinctively understand what he did. So how could he be angry with you?

His phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Frisk, 1:34am- He's locked in, under guard with cameras and all. They gave him food cause mom insisted, but he won't eat it. Kept staring at me like I was something hideous- maybe he can feel what I am. 

Frisk, 1:34am- There's spells to take the magic OUT of someone, usually for sucking out a bad curse or whatever. I want to see if I can use those to take it out of his Soul. He'd still be a mage, just a neutered one. I don’t want anyone to know that I can maybe do that.

Frisk, 1:35am- But it'll take me a long time to figure it out. They're gonna question him seriously tomorrow. He had nothing on him. No wallet, no ID, no phone, no keys. It was only Undyne and dad in there with him, and they say they got nothing, he barely answered anything they asked.

Papyrus swore; he'd been praying that the mage would bring some sort of identification. Anything that would help them take down his creepy little internet empire of followers. But apparently, the man had prepared for the chance of being caught.

You stepped out as he talked with his friend, wrapping yourself up in a towel and squeezing the water from your hair with another. After a few moments, he realized you hadn't moved and glanced up from his phone; you were staring at an unlit decorative arrangement of candles on the bathroom sink opposite from where he sat, your face ponderous. You didn't so much as twitch when he called your name…but he felt it when you reached out a finger, touching it to the tallest candle, and asked. 

Before, in the heat of a moment of anger and perceived betrayal, you had bulldozed over any natural instincts that you were beginning to form in relation to magic. Now, you were so careful and hesitant that he could tell your attempt would barely melt the wax off the virgin wick. Knowing that once he was properly rested and recovered from the day he'd surely find this absolutely astonishing and incredible, Papyrus pushed a tiny bit more power than what you were asking for, guiding your mind's focus to think ‘sustained’ and ‘bursting’. Helping you realize that it wasn't a momentary flash of heat that was needed, but instead a sustained point of excitement, to eat through the wax coating and catch the cotton within. Three times you lost concentration, yanking your hand back instinctively as the heat grew at the tip of your finger- three times he guided you back, helping you to learn the lesson you needed to through experience. 

As long as you controlled the magic, it couldn't hurt you.

On the fourth try, you held your thumb and forefinger on either side of the wick, and he felt the simultaneous focus and release as you found the centered state you'd need for just a moment…

The candle caught, flickering merrily as the flame munched through the long wick and its wax.

“THE FIRST THREE TYPES OF MAGIC EVERY MONSTER LEARNS ARE LIGHT, HEAT, AND FIRE. AFTER THAT, THINGS BEGIN TO SPECIALIZE AND ALL, BASED ON THE COLOR OF THEIR POWER.” He felt giddy, watching as an enormous grin spread across your face. “ORANGE MAGIC IS ALWAYS HOT. IT'S THE CLOSEST YOU CAN GET TO LIGHT, TO PURE POTENTIAL, UNTIL YOU SHIFT INTO THE RED SPECTRUM. YOU'LL, HEH, YOU'LL WANT TO BE CAREFUL-” you were practically vibrating in place, rubbing your fingertips together “-CAUSE I BURNED THE ABSOLUTE HECK OUT OF MYSELF WHEN I WAS YOUNGER, ESPECIALLY WHEN I WAS LEARNING TO SUMMON BONES. HOOO-EEE, YOU SHOULD HAVE SEEN IT A COUPLE TIMES.”

You weren't listening at all, he realized with a snort…and how could he blame you?

“BUNNY, HEY, LISTEN FOR A SECOND. FOR REAL.” 

Blinking, you nodded, tearing your eyes off the candle to turn to him. He reached out, spreading his knees, and towed you in when you stepped up between them. “DON'T TRY THIS WITHOUT ME OR SANS OR SOMEONE WE TRUST THERE TO HELP, OKAY? I DUNNO HOW FAR YOU CAN BE FROM ME, WE'LL HAVE TO TEST IT. BUT YEAH. I'M BEING SUPER CEREAL-LY SERIOUS, HERE. I REALLY HURT MYSELF WHEN I WAS KID. I DON'T WANT YOU TO DO THE SAME.”

“Okay…” God it was so unfair, how was he supposed to be the responsible, protective one when you were staring up at him with stars in your eyes, stroking your hands over his arms? You were warm from the shower, smelling so nice…wrapped in a soft towel that barely covered you…

“Comb my hair out?” You knew how much he liked to; he nodded eagerly, reaching over to snag the wide-toothed tooth as you turned your back to him. He loved this; the silken slide of the brush or comb through your hair, creating perfectly equal lines on its smooth surface once the tangles were out. He also loved the way that the sensation made goosebumps spread over your shoulders and arms; he leaned forward, unable to help himself, and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck as he pulled your damp hair to the side. 

The tiny little breath he heard you take, the way you shifted your balance as if needing to catch yourself…oh, oh goodness…

A knock at the door of the suite interrupted him just as he began ghosting his hands up your arms, and he swore as you muttered under your breath. Hopping down off the counter, he trotted out and opened the door a crack. “YES?” 

“Sorry if I woke you.” The palace runner looked exhausted. “His Majesty wants nothing online yet, nothing on servers or even over cellphones if it can be avoided. I was instructed to deliver these transcripts to you.”

Papyrus took the folder, sighing. “ANYTHING THAT CAN'T WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW?” 

The Cat’s ears went back in frustration at the situation. “Hardly anything useful at all. There's a meeting tomorrow at noon, he just asks that you read over them before then, and-”

Papyrus heard noise behind him and glanced back, then did a double take- you were walking naked through the suite, and paused in the doorway to the bedroom, casting a purposeful glance over your shoulder at him as the warm light from within shone around you. It perfectly highlighted your curves for a moment, before you slipped inside and disappeared, closing it part way behind yourself.

“-discussion with human law enforcement as well. There are no current plans for extradition.”

He jumped a little, wrenching himself back to the conversation at hand. “GOT IT, YEP, GREAT, THANKS!” When he closed the door, it was perhaps a bit more abrupt than would be polite… he tripped over his own shoes in the middle of the floor as he half ran over to the bedroom door. Opening it, he sucked in a breath. You were still completely bare, standing in front of the large open window- the only one in the room. The cool breeze of the underground at night blew the gauzy curtains around you- you hadn't bothered to turn on a lamp, and the blue glow of the distant cavern ceiling carried just enough light into the room to illuminate you. 

“I WAS SO SCARED FOR YOU THAT IT HURT, EARLIER.” He had no idea what possessed him to say it at a time like this, standing on the opposite side of the bed and looking on at the most beautiful, impossible thing that had ever come into his life. “I BROKE RIBS IN GUARD TRAINING, AND IT WAS WORSE THAN THAT. WORSE THAN ANYTHING.” 

Your hair was beginning to dry in the loose waves he loved the most, saved from the evil hair-straightener thingy. The window flickered, the protection rune on it glimmering once then fading in its usual cycle. It would allow air through when the window was open, but nothing more- a security feature in every guest suite.

“I didn't even think…except that I didn't want that man to die.” Your voice was soft, and you didn't turn away from looking outside. “I didn't even realize that I was right in the path of it, that I'd block it from getting inside. I was…just trying to do the right thing for him.”

He took a step toward you, jolting once in a full-body twitch of expectation. You were standing with one hip cocked, a hand on the window sill- for a moment, he held still and just looked at you, making sure he got every little detail so he could sketch this. Of course you'd taken your clothing off to be tantalizing, but at that moment, he didn't think you were trying to be. You were too pensive, distracted from whatever sexy thing you'd been planning. And in your distraction, the natural grace and loveliness of your form could shine out.

“IT'S BECAUSE YOU ‘JUST’ DID THE RIGHT THING THAT IT HELPED THE MOST. THE WORLD WANTS TO REWARD GOODNESS.” It was a philosophy he firmly believed. He came to you, drawing you back into his arms, and you shivered at his touch.

Papyrus spent much of that night proving to himself that you were still alive. Over, and over, and over again. 

...

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A belt, wrapped tightly. 

A hook on the wall; a kindness for the imprisoned, giving them a place to hang belongings. Too trusting, too trusting, these beasts out of legend. 

An ugly smile of vicious victory, as vision went dark and legs began to twitch and dance. A smile that spoke of things learned, ancient secrets. Old commands, the access of reality, one given to each of the seven polychromatic choirs...if one had the courage to seize it. The knowledge was gnosis, esoteric, self-originated, born of desperation to escape at the cost of anything else...and now he knew.

But they didn't know. They didn't know.

...

They didn't know.

They...they didn't...

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RESPAWN

Chapter Text

When you both left the next morning, you to take everything home and him to attend the meeting with their majesties, you were both startled to see not just a royal guard posted directly outside your door, but a Dog no less. Tall, black with white socks, and bright black eyes.

Papyrus frowned, his arms full. “AH…DOGBURY? A VERY GOOD MORNING TO YOU! WHAT-” The other man looked worried. “I'm to come with ya to the meetin’. My bro says hello, by the by.”

“YOUR BRO…OH, ARE YOU PERHAPS RELATED TO DOGGO?”

He nodded stiffly- it didn't seem like his anatomy was quite made for the motion, but he did his best. “Sure am.” 

“AND THE REASON YOU ARE HERE…?”

“There's been a…development.” He looked down at you- it was impossible to tell the Dog’s actual heights in their automated armor. “And we don't wantcha to be scared or nothin’, they'll come up and introduce themselves, but we've been assigned to your house. A couple others in town are getting us as well, them that don't live in New New Home, so don't feel like we're singling you out.” 

“Assigned to my house?” You blinked, concern deepening the stress lines around your eyes. “I…outside, or will they come in, or…?”

“Outside. Unmarked vans, black. Just pretend like they ain't there. All right, his Majesty is expecting you pronto. Ma'am.” He bowed in your direction, then turned and put his hands behind his back, plainly waiting for Papyrus to follow him.

“Honey?” You looked scared- he hated it. Papyrus handed you his keys again, sitting his armload of things down. “GO TO OUR HOUSE, SANS SHOULD BE HOME-”

“Doctor Fonteri is with their Majesties as well. Or with Their Excellence.” He blinked at the other man; it had been such a long time since he'd heard Frisks official title, it took him a moment to realize who he was referring to.

“O-KAY…JEEZ. THEN GO HOME, IT’LL BE OKAY. LEAVE CHEESE WITH ROGER FOR NOW, I THINK. MEET THE DOGS THERE, AND KEEP YOUR PHONE ON YOU. IF YOU HEAR ANYTHING WEIRD, CALL THIS NUMBER.” He recited off Asgore's personal family cell number, one that few people had. Was it appropriate? Probably not. But he could apologize afterward if he needed to. He knew nothing would stop the King from answering a call to that number.

The two of you parted with a quick kiss. He followed the other man at the trot, glancing back at you until you disappeared around a bend in the hallway with your arms full of things. Dogbury wasted no time or effort on conversation, leading Papyrus into the administrative part of the palace, past the general meeting rooms, and…past their Majesty's offices? Where were they going, then?

The workrooms were a flurry of movement- hundreds of palace staffers ran in and out, each carrying stack after stack of something. Enchanters and Fabricators worked around their low silver altars, baskets of raw gemstones beside them; literal fortunes, used to fuel their esoteric works. Papyrus craned his neck to try to see what they were all doing- he knew of no recent assignment or project of this size -but Dogbury kept up his pace past them, and he didn't want to lag behind. 

When they reached an elevator, he frowned. This far past all of the administrative workspaces, the only place the elevator could lead was up to the top of the Water Tower, the highest peak of the eastern palace. He'd never bothered to go up and see it; it was a relatively popular tourist attraction for those who could secure a private tour of the palace, for an ancient enchanted gem at the top continually produced water out of nothing, letting it fall down the sides in gradually growing rims like a twelve-story fountain.

“DOGBURY? WHY-”

“Follow me, please. It's hard to explain, and I don't have all the details.”

Stepping out at the top of the elevator, he paused for a moment. Female Dogs lined the walls- the colloquially (and inappropriately, he thought) named Queen's Bitches, Toriel’s special guard, wearing their silver-trimmed armor. It was disconcerting to see that each of them, along with their summoned magical weapons at the ready, also wore a human firearm at their side.

The once lovely and open room had been transformed, people he recognized from Alphys and Sans’ departments everywhere, setting up equipment and clutter on a myriad of tables that had been brought in. At the far end, Toriel and Asgore stood with their heads together, their murmurs incomprehensible under the noise of everything else. Undyne was there too, her trident summoned and resting casually over her knees as she leaned a chair back against a pillar and watched the room. She perked up when she saw him, lurching to her feet and trotting over. 

“Welcome to the shitshow.” Her voice was as dry as desert wind. “Do you want to know the good news, or the terrible news?” 

He grimaced. “THE TERRIBLE NEWS.” It went against his nature, but he knew what she expected.

“Alright. Hey, Sans, he's here.” 

Across the room, his brother glanced up from a delicate copper contraption, then nodded. “gimme a sec.” 

“OKAY BUT WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST TELL ME-”

“Listen to me.”  He stiffened a bit; not quite snapping into a salute, but falling silent. Very, very seldom did Undyne still actually treat him like he was in the guard. “I want you to see it with your own eyes, and tell me your conclusion. I'd trust your opinion over most people's here. Go with your brother, see what he has to show you, then come back and report.” 

“YES, CAPTAIN.” He said it softly, anxiety growing in his belly.

After a minute or two, Sans came over and offered his hand. “shortcut, bro. let's go see frisk.” 

He took it, and in a blink, they were standing in the clean, well-lit prison area of the castle. He'd only seen it once or twice before. 

At the end of the hallway of barred cells, a single, ominous clear crystal door loomed open. Within, he could see a shock of color. 

“let's go.” Sans almost didn't let go of him at first. When he glanced down, he saw strain on his brother's face. Anxiety. 

“WHATEVER IT IS, WE SHALL GET THROUGH IT LIKE WE HAVE EVERYTHING ELSE IN LIFE. TOGETHER AND WITH MUCH NONSENSE.” 

It took a moment, but finally, he nodded. “i know you're right. this is just particularly…bad.” 

Papyrus took the lead, walking toward the neutralizing cell. The three gemstones embedded above the door were cracked and blackened; inoperable. 

Oh no. 

He ducked in, the doorway some two inches shorter than he was, and found the source of the color. Frisk stood at the middle of the most complicated magical diagram he'd ever seen. It almost covered the entire room, the lines so fine in some places that a pencil eraser wouldn't have fit between them. All of it seemed to have been drawn in either ruby or garnet dust. Oddly, though, the pattern continued up the wall, almost like a spray of runic designs that had washed up and over the thin bed, the stones behind it, and the ceiling there too. The more he looked at it, the more it looked less like just a rune diagram, and more like an esoteric splatter of something, like an accident. There were even places on the bed and wall where little lines and symbols sat alone, like droplets that had sprayed off of the main piece.

Frisk turned when they came in, raising their hands. “Hi.”  

“HELLO, MY DEAR FRIEND.”   Papyrus stepped by Sans, who stopped at a chair outside the room and settled down into it. “WHAT HAVE YOU MADE HERE? AND WHERE IS…HE?”

They gestured around themselves. “ This isn't something I made. It's something he did that I traced. So we can see an imprint of it.” An open stone container of more red gem dust sat with a basket and a few other things in an untouched corner of the room- their magical kit. They walked over to it now, stepping carelessly on the diagram beneath their feet- it didn't crunch or scatter like Papyrus would expect it to. Seemingly, the crushed gemstone was locked in place. Reaching down, they picked up a long, thin silver tube, and a palm full of the crushed gemstone. They circled the tube around their palm, and it seemed to vacuum up the dust. Then they stepped by him, walking down the hall to wear Sans had teleported the two of them down. There, they took a deep breath, and blew through the tube. The crushed gemstone went flying everywhere, but in moments began to almost suck down into a pattern, a flowing circle on the floor maybe six feet across. Papyrus squinted- he hadn't made a study of rune magic ever, and this was stretching his experience. The thing looked lovely, complex in its symmetry yet simple in its design. Somehow, it looked a little like his brother, like the feeling of Sans being nearby. He didn't really know how, just that it did.

“This is the imprint of Sans bringing the two of you down here.” Their voice was whisper-soft; they were trying to preserve it. “The imprint of self-originated translocation magic, so rare that there's barely any records of it.” They walked back down the hallway and blew again, Sans lifting his feet out of the way as they aimed at the stone floor beside his chair, right in front of where a person would stand to look through the clear quartz door of the cell. The dust settled down into a few simple runes there, legible even to Papyrus’s untrained eye. “Summon, outburst, family, alert. The imprint of the guard's alarm spell from last night.”

His eyes widened. “ALARM SPELL?! WAIT, ARE THEY-”

“She's fine. Nothing bad happened outside of this cell.” They walked back in, then leaned against the wall at what Papyrus now realized was the actual center of the enormous, twenty foot across diagram- the way it spread up the walls and even onto the ceiling in places skewed his perception. The room had to be big, it was meant to hold any shape or sized Monster (or mage, recently) that, for one reason or another, needed to be unable to access their magic.

So how did…?

“The guards weren't used to the security systems yet. They didn't realize that the system could go into a power saver mode unless they interacted with it every fifteen minutes or so- that's the fault of the installation techs, they were supposed to train everyone, and they never should have left that setting active.” There was something very controlled and dangerous in their soft voice. “A stupid, stupid mistake. There was about a ten minute gap, where the guard there-” they pointed to wear Sans sat, where a guard would have been stationed directly outside the cell “- went over to the control room at the other end of the hall to help them reset it, the others didn't know that you just had to log back in. And in that time…he disappeared.”

Papyrus sighed, dropping into a crouch. He'd guessed of course, from the moment he saw those broken gemstones above the door and the empty cell, that somehow the mage had escaped. But still…

“HOW? THIS ROOM SHOULD NEUTRALIZE ANY MAGIC, AND ORANGE SOULS CAN'T TRANLOCATE THEMSELVES. THAT'S NOT PART OF THE CHROMATIC SYSTEM…RIGHT?” He glanced at Sans for confirmation, who nodded. “teleportation magic is expensive, and it's in the sphere of cyan magic. the only weird thing about me is that it doesn't cost me anything to cast besides my own magic. usually just a single person teleportin’ across the city would be…christ, a couple tens a'thousands of gold in materials.”

“And even though his way of casting it is weird and all, the actual imprint of the casting is the same general size as someone else doing it too.” They held up a picture on their phone- a magical imprint somewhat similar to Sans’ in size and basic construction (according to the tape measure laid out beside it in the photo), though far less detailed. “You missed the demo, it happened around five in the morning, an hour or so after this happened. Mom and Dad called for one of the professors at the University who does teleportation magic and had him do it upstairs, so we could get this picture for comparison to Sans’.”

“SMART, COLLECTING A REFERENCE. WE SHOULD PROBABLY DO THAT WITH EVERY GREATER SPELL.” They didn't have to explain the point aloud, it was obvious. The mage hadn't teleported, for the magical imprint would presumably be similarly sized. Somehow, they'd escaped in some other way, with enough power to short circuit the negation wards on the room and leave an imprint the size of…

A thought occurred to him, one that made him prop his elbows on his knees in his crouched position and scrub his face with his hands for a moment. Behind him, he heard his brother murmur, “...there ya go,” in resignation- his brother knew him too well, knew his little quirks and signs of stress.

He wouldn't voice his thought without seeing something else, though. Without exploring every other possibility. “FRISK, MY FRIEND? WOULD YOU BE SO KIND, IF IT ISN'T TOO MUCH TROUBLE, TO DO SOMETHING PARTICULARLY GREAT MAGE-Y SOMEWHERE NEARBY? AND DO THIS SAME IMPRESSION-CATCHING ON IT?”

They smiled grimly, getting to their feet and trudging out past him again- he followed. A few of the cells in the row were unlit. They went to one with the door open, and flicked a light switch outside. Papyrus had been so focused on the cell at the end of the hallway, he hadn't noticed what was in there.

Spreading from the middle of the floor in radiating, curving lines, somehow so much more graceful and delicate than the huge imprint in the other room, an almost solar looking rune diagram spread out from a central point, the entire thing nearly fifteen feet across. Just like the other, it spread up the walls when it reached them.

“I SAVED here about four hours ago, though I went back upstairs to the main hall and did it again afterward. I don't want to be stuck down here and running up ten flights of stairs if something bad happens.” 

For a long time- minutes on the clock -Papyrus said nothing. Faced with the evidence around him, he racked his brain for any other possibility besides the worst one. Besides the one that was most likely true. Finally, he looked over at his brother, who watched him through half-closed eyes. “WHERE IS INQUIRER TIPP? SHOULDN'T HE BE HERE, SEEING THIS?” 

His brother grimaced. “malachi tipp resigned this morning. he did see it, and left right after. toriel got word from the treasury- he pulled out his entire savings, converted it to euros, and chartered a private plane for himself and his family. budapest, apparently. no one is bothering to look into it further right now.”

“...OH.” That the head of crown investigations had done such a thing…

He turned to Frisk, one last hope in his Soul. Perhaps they'd all simply waited until he'd seen it, so that multiple people had eyewitness proof once time reset.  “I'D SAY IT'S TIME TO LOAD, NOW.” 

Frisk closed their eyes obediently, reaching their hands up as if touching things in midair like a person using VR. Golden light shined out from underneath their eyelids, giving it a red tint. “Two nights ago, seven fifty-seven p-m, atrium cafe. LOAD.” Their obedience surprised Papyrus; he braced himself with one hand on the bracelet they’d given him, not sure how this would feel and hardly prepared for it. 

…

“...SAVE corrupted. Secondary administrator found. SAVE not available.”

He leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. “FUCK US.” Sans actually glanced over at that, cocking a brow- Papyrus truly did not often curse. 

“I can't go back before it, now. Every SAVE I have from before last night is the same. I've tried all of them. All of them.” Frisk stared up at both of them, looking haunted. “And yes, I know what that would mean.” 

If Frisk had been successful, especially at their oldest one…

“EIGHT YEARS. EIGHT YEARS BACK. EIGHT YEARS REPEATED.” Papyrus shook the thought from his head, there was no use in getting spooked by hypotheticals now. “BUT THE ONES YOU MADE AFTERWARD, AFTER LAST NIGHT, ARE STILL GOOD? LIKE THE ONES YOU MADE THIS MORNING?” 

Just as he'd expected they would, the young mage nodded.

No wonder they'd all waited for him to wake up comfortably that morning rather than come banging for an emergency; they’d probably waited for everyone to wake and arrive in their own time. Why rush now? Things couldn't be undone. He took a deep breath, then turned to his brother, and asked the question he desperately didn't want to. The question he knew everyone was waiting for him to ask, so he could come to the same terrible conclusion. “BROTHER OF MINE, YOU KNOW THESE FANCY THINGS BETTER THAN I DO. WHAT’S THE ELEVATED POWER OF AN ORANGE-SOULED GREAT MAGE?”

Sans pulled a small book from his pocket, the covers and binding made of what looked like thin, hammered silver. It pinched Papyrus's Soul- he knew the look of books like that. Their oldest brother had preferred them above all else, trusting in the purifying and protecting properties of silver to preserve his work. As he searched for a page, Frisk came and stood beside Papyrus, leaning on him. He put an arm around his friend. “That's the book I found in the lab. The one that almost hit me on the head, and talked about these charms.” They touched a finger to his bracelet. “Literally one of the only things I've ever seen of his that wasn't written in that crazy code he used.”

Sans cleared his throat. “...of the other prismatic spheres, there can be no doubt. human souls carry the same chromatic influences as our own magic, reflecting the macrocosmic shared origins of reality. the pattern continues in unaltered predictability. blah blah blah, scarlet souls…blah blah…ah, here.” 

He turned the page, squinting. Even written in common, Gaster's handwriting was tiny and cramped. “saffron souls offer the frequencies of empowerment and resilience. thus in human mages, you may see this in the summoning of fire and concussive bursts of energy, in the emboldening of troops and the numbing of battlefield injury. several sources speak of rebellions and coups being led by such mages, able to gather supporters by inspiring a thrill of battle and a belief in a higher calling.”

Papyrus waited, dreading what came next. He might not have studied these things, but he remembered a nursery song he and other Monster children had sang together at play, acting out the words. Who knew there'd been a lesson in it?

Old Prince Tangerine

Went riding with a blessin’

Looking for some bandits

That he could teach a lesson 

They stuck a sword into his eye

And *gasp* he fell down dead!

But then the old prince woke back up

A'layin in his bed!

“...in matters of the elevated saffron mage, there is only one logical conclusion that i can draw. of the seven great commands that legends claim were gifted to the enlightened human bloodlines, the most fitting is ‘respawn’. much as a saffron perpetual preserves the lives of those around them by enlightening locations, granting sentience and awareness to the spirits of the physical domain in order to safeguard those under their roof, the more self-centered and self-evident power of the elevated saffron mage locks their own wellbeing and life to a physical location instead. hypothetically, the safest way to terminate one would then be to destroy the location they have chosen for the respawn command to take effect. in doing so, you remove their great advantage.” He looked up from the page. 

“...IT SOUNDS LIKE HIM. I…I MISSED THAT. HE WROTE JUST LIKE HE TALKED.”

“yeah.” Sans snapped the book closed, then after a moment, handed it to him. “here. i have a ton of his stuff from the lab and all. so you should have this. frisk had a copy made anyway.”

“OH…THANKS.” He took it, then sighed. “SO…HE KILLED HIMSELF. THEN WOKE BACK UP SOMEWHERE IN A NEW BODY. DID WE GET ANYTHING FROM HIM FIRST?”

“actually yeah, for once- undyne's good news. we got booking photos, shoe size, dna, and fingerprints. the fbi is already circulating an interior wanted memo, and the crown is getting the pictures printed on physical posters as we speak. photos were sent to the news and newspapers. dna and fingerprints are being checked against criminal databases, but that takes time.”

“OKAY.” It was all, suddenly, too much. Too damned much in such a short amount of time. He’d been okay until this, until learning that the man was free. Now? “I NEED A MINUTE. A COUPLE MINUTES. A COUPLE, EXTENDED MINUTES.” 

Sans frowned, rising and coming toward him, but he waved him off. “GO BACK TO THE IMPORTANT THINGS YOU WERE DOING UPSTAIRS. I'LL JUST TODDLE ALONG IN A BIT.” 

He looked like he wanted to say something else, but Frisk walked over, their basket of supplies over their arm, and took his hand. They whispered something in his ear, and reluctantly, his brother nodded. “just…just text me if you need me.”

“I WILL.” 

Once they were gone, he sagged down into the chair Sans had vacated like a puppet with its strings cut. He clutched the book to his chest, imagining he could feel his oldest brother's presence right beside him. It was a phantom memory, mostly falsified- they'd lost Gaster when he was barely six years old. He only had flashes of him now. A stern, stoic face that softened for him. Strong arms that threw him up into the air as often as he wanted them to, over and over. A huge hand wrapped around his, walking through Snowdin and teaching him all the little secrets of the Endless Forest there. 

A voice so deep it rumbled, singing to him softly. Papyrus couldn't remember the song.

If Gaster was still alive, everyone’s fear of the hateful fucking arsonist mage would be so much less. He'd been as old as their majesties, a Boss Monster. Unbound to the kingdom like Toriel and Asgore were, his power would have been free to be worked against the sick bastard. His brilliant mind would have had the man tied in knots.

“OH GASTER…WE NEED YOU. THEY WANT US TO BE YOU, AND WE AREN'T.” Sans, with the burgeoning power of a Boss Monster himself, but an uncorrected weakness in his Soul that would never allow it to flower. Papyrus, oddly gifted in his own way, but nowhere near the level of Sans, much less Gaster. He hadn't been exposed to their oldest brother nearly as long as Sans had- the transformation hadn't even gotten a chance to begin. Yet the crown had looked to both of them since his death in a way that, honestly, didn't really fit their accomplishments until quite recently. 

“I'M SCARED FOR HER.” There was no one to hear him here- the newly installed security system had been shut down, waiting for the company to send out technicians to reprogram it, and the arsonist's searing magic had scoured every listening spell and peeping spell from the area. Still, he couldn't find more than a whisper, his throat suddenly tight. “I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO STOP HIM BY MYSELF, NOT UNLESS I GOT SO LUCKY. NOT UNLESS HE MISSED ME FIRST, AND I KILLED HIM FASTER THAN HE COULD THINK THE COMMAND.” Tears welled up in his eyes; he scuffed them away impatiently. “...AND I DON'T WANT TO BE A KILLER.” 

Was it murder, to kill in defense of yourself or other people? It was something Undyne had ordered him to think on, when he'd first started his training all those years ago. The day he'd learned that the human SOULs in the reliquary had been gathered by Asgore's hands and power. 

That memory led into the next, somehow even worse. For there was one other way for a Monster to match the power of a mage, perhaps even a great one. A sacrifice so terrible in its inherent selfishness that the few who knew of its possibility through history eschewed even discussion of it. As far as he knew, if a Monster killed a human with their own hands…they could claim that human’s Soul. Burning it like fuel in a bonfire, using it up, they could commit near miracles at the expense of the Soul never returning to the Great After. It was the miracle of Frisk’s victory (seven and one versus one…yet somehow, somehow). Every Monster knew you needed a human Soul to pass the barrier- few knew that any other Monster besides their King was capable of such a thing. Few knew that you would use up that colorful, fluttering life in exchange for the empowerment of your own. That it was aware, that it would be struggling. 

Papyrus only knew these things because of the bizarre half-memory he retained of the terrible, wondrous things leading up to the barrier breaking, and because he’d read some of his oldest brother’s most secretive research a few years ago, before it had made him too upset to continue. The sad reality of the subject had driven Gaster over the edge of his own creation, after decades of imprisoning the pure hearts of six innocents and experimenting on them.

“I WISH YOU WERE HERE. I DON'T KNOW THE RIGHT THING TO DO. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO FIX THIS.” He held the book so close that the sharp silver edges began to cut into his palms. “HE SAW HER. EVEN FROM A DISTANCE, HE SAW HER. HE'LL SEE HER IN THE NEWSPAPER, ONLINE, AND HE'LL KNOW SHE STOPPED HIS SPELL. OH STARS ABOVE…I-I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.” God, he sounded so kiddish…but he didn't care. “I REALLY, REALLY MISS YOU.”

A pause. “...YOU’D SAY SOMETHING IF YOU COULD STILL HEAR US, RIGHT?”

…

But of course, there was no answer. He was alone, with just the fluorescent red diagram of the arsonist's magic to keep him company.

Chapter Text

Later that evening, as you paced around nervously and waited for Papyrus to answer your text, a palace staffer pulled up in a large van. She was accompanied by a female Dog in beautiful black armor trimmed in silver. 

Her knock on your door was polite, as was the little bow she offered you, though the motion looked a little silly in platemail. “Her Royal Majesty has finished the accounting of your deed last night. She wishes to discuss the debt the crown owes you. Are you free to meet with her?” 

You nodded, wide-eyed. “Can I go get changed first?” 

Over her shoulder, the driver, a Chameleon whose coloration constantly shifted, smiled through the open window of the van. “Of course!” they called. “It's good that you would want her to see you at your best.”

Sans had teleported Papyrus home earlier to get his car, and then the two had returned to whatever important business was happening in the capital again. You were almost glad for this distraction; you were just making yourself crazy by waiting here at home. You put on nice pants and a respectable blouse, a bit of jewelry, and some nice shoes, then grabbed your bag and went back out to the Monsters. There wasn't time to do anything more than a neat bun to your hair; you hoped that would suffice.

On the ride in, the female Dog- Dogette, apparently -told you something chilling. Something that instantly explained the reason for your partner's absence.

“Escaped?” It made your stomach drop out. “How?!” 

“Magic we don't understand.” The woman's voice was warm and rich, though strained now with tension. “Old magic. I don't know more. That's why I'm here.” She patted the holster at her waistband. “Who'd have ever thought human weapons would be better than magic? But for someone like him…well.”

“Aim for the head,” you whispered, shivering for a moment and remembering your grandfather’s hunting lessons. “The head or the heart…though god, what am I saying. You probably already know that.” 

She nodded firmly. “We…aren't attempting to take him prisoner again, unless the opportunity very clearly arises. But you didn't hear that from me.” 

Something hot and vicious filled your heart. Good. The bastard had made his choice. What kind of fucking animal discovered they had magic powers, and the first thing they used them for was to try to burn people to death?!

The two of you spent the rest of the ride in quiet; it surprised you to see that she checked out each window at every stop sign and light, her hand on her weapon. Seemingly, the Monsters weren't taking any chances now. Your route took you on the familiar interstate and gated pavilions leading into the Mountain, though of course this van didn't even have to stop. The driver avoided the main thoroughfare traffic by looping around to the east, which took them by the eastern palace. You gazed out the window, hoping for a miraculous glimpse of your man…the place was busy , with countless Monsters unloading trucks and vans of crates, covered boxes, and trolleys, but you couldn't tell what anything was. Oddly enough, there were bright work lights set up on the highest tower of the palace that hadn't been there the night before, a beautiful, open-sided fountain and tower combination some twelve stories tall. 

Maybe they were doing construction?

The main palace was somehow even grander and more beautiful than its smaller sister on the eastern side of the capital, yet also even more stark and eye-smarting. Dogette led you in through a side entrance, past wonders that made you wish you could spend hours here just wandering the halls. Statues, paintings, precious minerals and plants under glass bells that were obviously magical- this place was a natural history museum at a level matching any human accomplishment as much as it was a seat of royalty 

One huge arched doorway in particular made you stop dead. Through it was an enormous circular room four-stories high, the walls lined floor to ceiling in books, scrolls, manuscripts…it was wondrous to behold. Far within, at the center, a clear floating gem the size of your head rotated gently above a marble dias. Alcoves accessible by what looked like magical lifts dotted the walls, though you saw few people there using them that evening.

Compared to the rest of the palace, this room was only softly lit, the orange-yellow crystals giving it a warm glow. They also shimmered off the armor of two enormous looking guards that stood within. Komodo Dragons, perhaps, but made of gemstones and armored in steel plate. Papyrus had been teaching you about magical armor types recently.

“The Royal Archive,” Dogette murmured. “One of the three great jewels of our kingdom.”

It was almost unimaginable to behold. “A-and the others?”

“The capital University, and the Core. I know it's lovely, but please. We can't keep my Queen waiting.” 

“Oh! Yes, sorry, ah-” It was painful to tear yourself away from something so beautiful, but after a last longing look, you followed her. A few more halls and an elevator ride later, and she knocked, then stepped aside before a plain but well-polished wooden door. 

“Come in, my child.” Every time Toriel spoke it sounded like music, so gentle and sweet was her voice. 

Her office was lovely, with an enormous wall of windows facing out over the capital and surrounded by an absolute riot of greenery. She saw your admiration, sitting behind a large desk in a soft gray, sleeveless dress, and smiled. “My husband apologizes with house plants. The rest have been spread throughout the palace.”

Papyrus had told you a little about this, the two hundred year schism between the two royals. It was a sobering thought. Could you withstand two hundred years of separation from the man you loved, if he committed an act you absolutely couldn't bear?

“How many do you have, your Majesty? These are beautiful.” And they really were, each expertly grown and cared for, each displayed in a lovely vessel or pot and arranged for the best possible presentation.

“Ah…probably close to a thousand, by now. I keep my favorites here.”

A thousand living apologies.

Toriel sighed, setting down a page she'd been reading to join the neat reams of others before her. “You find yourself in a unique position, my clever dear.” Her graceful paw directed you to a seat before her, oversized and plush.

“I am sure you have heard. Secrets cannot keep from the ears of an intelligent woman.” She leaned back in her chair, looking weary, while you blushed at her compliment. “An aspiring killer has escaped our imprisonment using ancient magics that we do not understand, and I fear he may recognize the one who prevented his evil. We have taken the caution to remove your photos from the official pictures taken that night, for now, but there are doubtless some taken by the attendants that you are in regardless. You were the first to point him out, and your actions interrupted his plans.” Toriel sighed again, pinching the soft bridge of her nose. “In a perfect world, he was too far away and you were too back-lit by the palace lamps for him to recognize you up close. But I do not trust to luck, and Papyrus is symbolically a succulent target for a bigot, placing you in even more danger. Hence, the Dogs being assigned to your homes.”

She fell silent for a moment, staring past you as you tried to process the veritable mountain of information she'd just sat in your lap. That the arsonist was free, and more powerful than the Monsters were prepared for. That you were in danger, potentially, and could be recognizable to him. That Papyrus, the man who loved you like the sunrise and sang bad karaoke through the bathroom door when you tried to take a peaceful shower, was a choice prize for the man to target. 

You should have guessed the last one…but he was so kind. So gentle to the world around him. Who would want to hurt him?

“Now. Do not be without hope- we do not sit by idly, to watch as the man wreaks havoc through the city. And that is not the reason I called you here.” She leaned forward. “There is the subject of our debt to you. Your actions last night saved thirty-five lives by my guard's count, and prevented unimaginable damage to both our reputation and our palace itself.” 

Reaching into a drawer, Toriel drew out a fist-sized, clear, faceted stone set into some kind of wooden base. “This is an oathstone, to record my promise of repayment and your acceptance of the boon. So. What might the Crown offer you in recompense for your actions?”

The answer left you immediately, without thought. “Keep Papyrus safe.”

Toriel smiled sadly, the expression strained on her beautiful face. “...would that I could assure you of that either way. But that would be impossible for me to flatly promise, and so impossible for our law, in this instance, to fulfill.”

“Oh…okay. Um, may I have some time to think, then?” 

“As long as you need. If you wish to leave and consult others , you may, of course.” Her eyes looked strained. “Though I ask that you not wait longer than a day or two. I know it all seems like a happy accident to you, a lucky side effect of your attempt to protect one man, but the results are the same whether your actions were purposeful or not. The pressure of the debt is…uncomfortable as time passes, due to the number of lives involved. My nature demands its repayment- we have not been quite so uniquely indebted to a human in a very long time.”

Her nature…perhaps it wasn't the right time for such questions. But you wanted to understand her. You wanted to understand your partner's people, their culture and beliefs. “Are…if it's okay if I ask…are you a Boss Monster, your Majesty?” You'd read things online, but you wanted a real answer.

She nodded, not seeming offended. Feeling encouraged, you went on, “You mentioned your nature…is this like, related to that? Please don't be upset that I'm asking, if it's not appropriate then tell me and I'll shut up I swear, I just…I want to learn. I want to understand.” 

“It is a commendable desire. I am not upset in the slightest.” She sat back in her chair. “I am bound to the prosperity of my people, to the laws that guide their civilization and ensure their abundance. Just as my husband is bound to their protection, to their preservation of their homes and lives. Just as our son, someday, will choose an aspect of rule and be bound to it.”

“Oh…wow.” It was a fantastical thought. And as she spoke, something deeply important occurred to you. Protection and preservation…

“Okay. Actually, I do know what I want.”  She nodded, leaning forward and placing her paw on the faceted, brilliant stone (please dear god, don't be a diamond, it was impossible that a stone that large was a diamond…right???) and motioned for you to do the same atop hers. Then, you did a quick count in your head. “In exchange for thirty-five lives saved, I’d like some physically protected to the best of your ability. My mother, my father, and my three siblings who all live on the coast. My aunt and uncle are much closer, they live about three hours away. And their daughter, my cousin, and her husband and their new baby- they're about an hour away, down in Atlantic. If this guy is so good with computers and he manages to learn who I am, then he’ll obviously be able to figure out that they're my family…and he practiced burning down low rent apartments down there early on, the few Monsters that moved away from Ebott. He's familiar with that area too.” The thought made you feel sick- she nodded grimly. “I want to make sure he doesn't try to hurt them to punish me, no matter that they're all at least an hour away. Oh, and my friend Roger, and his partner Jax. He saved me from a really ugly situation, and I love them both very much. Plus, Roger works for the same office as me, so he's already a target.” 

“So, to be sure I understand.” Toriel was making an odd face. “In exchange for saving the lives of thirty-five of our political allies and donors…in lieu of property, status, or wealth with which you could purchase security for them yourself…you would like us to organize the protection of these twelve people?”

You blinked at her. “Well, yes? God, I wouldn't even know where to start with that myself. Even if I was a scrillionaire-” she covered her mouth with her other paw “-how would I know I was hiring the right people? They could just scam me, and what's a human bodyguard gonna do against a mage or his creepy followers?!” Then a thought occurred to you. “Oh, wait, do I need to include Papyrus, or Sans, or-”

You realized what was happening- something about this whole situation was tickling Toriel terribly, and she was barely able to keep herself from chuckling aloud behind her soft pink toe beans. It was a little offensive if you were honest- it didn't seem like a laughing matter to you. But before you could question it, she shook her head, her eyes dancing. “They are under our protection, and need not be included in this. Then, twelve people spread across this country, each to have their properties and persons enchanted against fire and such other magics and mischief, the nearest to have live security assigned, and for them all to be briefed on the reason for it until this business with the arsonist is finished…done. The crown agrees to these terms. Is that…truly all you wish for the debt to be repaid?” 

“And please help me protect Papyrus.” It was a silly thing to add in your head- she'd just assured you that they were already doing so. But you wanted more. Whatever they had, whatever they could do. Whatever miracles this strange, magical race of people could perform, you wanted them all bent to protect your man. He was too tempting a target, too symbolic of a trophy, and you loved him too much. Losing him would leave a wound in you that would never heal. “Yes. It's repaid.” 

“...so be it.” The clear gemstone flashed once, and she sighed in what sounded like genuine relief. “Thank you. Can you get me names, addresses, and phone numbers right now?”

You nodded, pulling out your phone as she passed you a pen and a notebook

“Good. Do not contact them yet. We have protocols in place, they help mitigate any panic. I would stop using your social media entirely, if I were you, except to set it to the highest privacy you can, and delete any mentions on your profile of family members or relationships. As soon as you get those to me, I will pass the information to Undyne with highest priority. Expect results by nightfall.” 

After a half an hour of pulling their information out of your contacts and editing your Facebook, you passed the book back to her, and left quietly. She nodded to acknowledge it, but her attention was on a report that she was reading.

Feeling shivery and nervous, you checked your phone again- Papyrus had finally texted you back, asking if you wanted to go out for dinner. After a quick call, you realized he was still in the eastern palace- you wouldn't have to have the palace person drive you home after all.

He picked you up at a side entrance, looking tired but interested as you told him what had just transpired. When you finished your explanation of what you'd asked the Queen, he leaned over and kissed you so sweetly that it made you smile. “What's that for?”

“JUST…YOU. LET US GO PERUSE SOME DINNER, I AM STARVING.”

-

You woke around three in the morning, jumping slightly before letting out a breath and rolling your eyes at yourself. Your brain had decided to have one of those creepy dream moments where it sounded like someone had said your name right in your ear. The imaginary voice had been incredibly deep, somehow soft and kind, but it still jolted you out of your other dreams. 

Turning on your back, you hummed as the TV switched channels; the remote was laying on the pillow next to Papyrus's head, but you must have hit it without knowing it as you turned over blearily.  Squinting, you glanced down at the screen. Somehow, you'd turned it to a Monster channel- a famous animated children's movie of theirs was on, “Queen of Stone and Meadow.” 

You'd actually both read the long, two-book story AND watched the movie years before even moving down to Ebott- it had become just as famous in human circles, with some calling it the ‘Monster's Lord of the Rings.’ It was a moving tale about a family of little mouse-like beings called ‘mausches’, a Monster equivalent to fairies in human fantasy stories. The mother mausche, Peraline Droplet, had to go on a long, perilous quest through many terrible places to rescue her family, after seven dark immortal wizards kidnapped them to use the magical gems at their hearts in their terrible spells.

The channel had switched to it right in the middle of the movie, when she was at her lowest, having given herself up to an evil beast to be eaten after seeking out his lair and not finding the weapon there that legends claimed would exist. But of course, the Beast wasn’t cruel at all, only misunderstood by those who feared his  burnt, skeletal wings and glowing purple eyes.

“Why do you ask for death, little creature? And why do you think I can give it?”

“I would take it from anywhere,” she said, her voice weary with grief. “I…I failed. My children, my husband…I miss him so badly Beast, it hurts, it hurts!” She clutched her tiny chest, sobbing into her fist. “When I left my home… I had hope. Now, I have nothing. I am nothing at all.”  It had actually made you tear up reading this part the first time, and even more so when you watched the movie. Of course some things had to be changed to be turned into a script, but they kept this part exactly as it was written. And the voice actress had done a fantastic job putting sorrow into every word. “There is nothing left in my heart but loneliness. I’ve failed even in finding the needle with which I could stab your wretched Soul and save my family. Claim your prize, or the stones below shall claim it for you…let this end.” 

The Beast lifted his wing, opening the path to the front of his cave once more. Beyond, the sharp cliffs dropped into nothingness. “Well, certainly don't let me stop you. Only first, would you tell me what weapon you would use to kill me? You speak of a needle, but I see none upon you.”

She stared at him from her position crouched against a back wall, her bag clutched to her chest. “I know not. Only that it was spoken of in legend, said to be here within your lair, yet is here no more. I see no blade, or fire, or ruin to bring upon you. Alone, I am weak and helpless. ”

“Ahhh, I see. And what would you have done, had you killed me and gone with this great weapon to slay your foes? Are you trained with blade, or fire, or ruin?”

Tears came into her eyes, her voice rising in anger. “No! I am trained in nothing! I am from nothing, and to nothing I will return! It was a fool's errand that brought me here, but did I not have to try?! All in my hometown know the legend. ‘In the lair of the shadowbeast, in Nimrak-Ordo, is that which may slay even the darkest heart!’ yet I see NOTHING!” She threw her pack to the side, standing on quivering legs. “My babies are dead…my love is dead…and I shall join them. If not by your hand, then by the fall beyond.”

The Beast hummed, whipping his huge, strange head back and forth. “Ah, of course, of course. And surely, one so tired as yourself would be unable to search for such an answer, in all my sooted books and manuscripts. Surely no one in history has ever written on how to slay a Black Wizard.” He stepped to the side, his great body trailing miasma, leaving patches of soot on the floor. “Well then, have at it. When the winds have scoured your bones clean, I shall come collect them to add to my stew.”

Of course, the story would go on to have Peraline realize that the treasure she was seeking was not a weapon, but a map to a legendary library far to the North, said to hold the answer to every question ever asked. That the Beast was once a familiar of one of the Wizards, cursed out of spite for a simple mistake and cast from their homeland far in the distance. Their friendship would last until the end of the tale, when the Beast would sacrifice his own life to give her the chance to slay the greatest of the seven. 

For some reason, a few of the last lines that you heard before you drifted back off again stuck with you. “The weapon you seek to vanquish your foe, the power you yearn for to save your family…it is within your grasp. Go to the Forbidden Library far to the north, and search the ancient archives. Go with courage in your Soul, with bravery in your heart- there is always another way. ”

You fell back asleep, and in your dreams, the same deep, whispering voice repeated that last line over, and over, and over again. 

-

Very early the next morning, you woke blearily to Papyrus's hand on your shoulder. “SORRY, BUNNY. BUT I FIGURED YOU SHOULD SEE THIS...I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GET SCARED, IF I LEFT BEFORE YOU WOKE UP. I HAVE TO GO TO THE PALACE THIS MORNING.”

You blinked. “...see what?” 

He motioned out your bedroom window, which faced directly toward the Mountain and the surrounding district of New New Home. In the thin dawn light, what you saw there made you stare, open mouthed, until your eyes watered.

Like a red-tinted glass bowl overturned on a countertop, a circular barrier that must have been two miles across at least and thousands of feet high surrounded the Mountain and everything around it.  The faintly-red glimmer of its smoothly sloping walls looked imposing even in the early morning. 

God, what would it look like at night? 

“IT JUST WENT UP.” He sounded grim. “NO HUMANS GO IN, NO HUMANS GO OUT, UNLESS THEY GO THROUGH ONE OF TWO CHECKPOINTS. AND HE CAN'T JUST WALTZ THROUGH IT, CAUSE IT ISN'T MONSTER MAGIC…”

“...it's human magic.” You finished the sentence for him in a whisper, sliding out of bed to get a better look. “Oh Frisk…what does this cost you, all on your own?”

Chapter Text

The words from that silly little movie swirled around in your head all the next day, and the next. Papyrus was leaving early in the morning and not getting home til late; obligations to the crown, since apparently their head investigator (and half of his team) had fled the country. Though your work had officially ‘restarted’, things were slow due to fear of retaliation from the arsonist and his band of petty followers… and the city was practically on lockdown after the three public ‘bombings’ (magical explosions)...which meant you had nothing to distract you from the constant running whisper in the back of your head. A memory of a little mouse fairy going to an ancient library for wisdom, and a wise, damaged creature assuring her that no problem was ever hopeless.

After the third day of waking up practically mouthing the words to yourself, you shrieked with frustration and threw yourself out of bed. Cheese jumped, turning to stare at you as you stomped into the bathroom. A quick glance at your phone showed you about a hundred messages- a few in a secured Monster app from crown security representatives, confirming that they were working with your selected family members, and the rest from said family members in the same app, who apparently all thought you were either halfway to being Monster president or were pulling a Princess Diana. 

You sent the same blanket text in a group chat to everyone after consulting with the security team, who confirmed that it was the safest place possible now to communicate with all of them (damn the firebug’s proclivity for technology!).

Hey everyone, I'm fine. I'm dating someone important to the Monster royalty, and got involved in a security incident the other day. You've probably heard about the arsonist attacks on the news- they're trying to keep me AND you all safe from the arsonist. Please listen to them, and don't talk about any of this with anyone unless they say you can. The arsonist is a murderer, and I want to keep you all safe.

The security forces must have been very clear about the threat, for even your most obnoxious and headstrong family members only sent meek ‘okay’ s, though your parents did ask for more details when you could give them, and said they were proud of you. That touched you. It was easy to forget an oldest daughter, one who was separate from their other children by over a decade; the accident born at college to two high-school sweethearts. 

That not-quite-intrusive-yet-constantly-insistent thought came back once you finished texting all of them- you narrowed your eyes at yourself in the bathroom mirror. What was this, had you spontaneously developed a brain tumor or something?? 

(There is always another way)

(The power you yearn for to save your family…it is within your grasp)

(̵̦̌̄̒Ǵ̷̖̈́o̶͕͇͍̊̃ ̷̘̫̚t̴̢͎̚o̶̗̬̝͌͑́ ̵̕ͅt̴̳̽͠h̷̡͇͙̍̐͗ë̴͉́̿͠ ̷͕̗̈f̸̹̂ô̶̢̙̳̑̚r̷͎̽͌̋͜b̵͓͂̌i̷͓̤̙͆͋d̵͖̏́̓d̴̺̈́͂e̷̔̋̑ͅň̴͓͋ ̶̧̺͓̂͐l̵̡̨͂͋i̶̜͋̈́̌b̸̤̓̽̎r̸̺̰̬̂̈́́ả̶͍̗r̶͓͒͒y̶̭̮̐ͅ)̸͙̌͜

Growling under your breath, you sat your phone down, poked at the dark circles under your eyes and the paleness of your lips, then turned and ripped the shower curtain back. 

One quick shower and an outfit later, you put Cheese out to pee, then stomped out to your car. God help you, you were tapping your fingers to the rhythm of the quote from that damn movie! You'd been planning to go buy breakfast, but at the square, a spark of an idea lit in your mind- perhaps there was a way to get the annoying, repeating thought out of your head…and you wanted to look into something else, too. Two birds with one stone, right? When you wanted to get a song out of your head, it helped to seek it out, to listen to the whole thing straight through. Maybe if you physically acted out whatever this bizarre stress-induced brain worm was…

Instead of going straight, further into town, you switched lanes quickly and turned left toward the Mountain. 

The checkpoints at the new barrier were efficient, the arrows on the ground lighting up and switching magically to guide cars through as quickly as possible. Interestingly enough, the moment you approached, the arrow in your lane switched to a soft orange light rather than the usual white, and guided you to a far right lane. The guard there waved you through without even stopping to check you or your ID.

You hummed to yourself; did it recognize your Soul? Papyrus said yours was a pure orange color…interesting. Unsure where else to go, you aimed for the same parking garage that you'd been dropped off within a few days ago, on your visit to meet the Queen. Once again, you were waved past without having to present ID or payment to park there. Was it because of his influence? Or was it because of what you'd done on that terrible night?

The guards at the door nodded to you respectfully, and gave you a visitor badge after scanning your purse. Then, miraculously, you were left completely alone and unattended, looking up at a complex of palace hallways that were at least thirty feet tall and thirty feet wide, arching and huge and made of white granite. Thank god, luck was with you that morning. You found your way to that giant library, the one you'd only gotten a chance to peek at before, with little effort.

The guards stopped you at the door, but not impolitely. “And what business do you have here today? Public palace services are closed until further notice.” 

“Do you know who I am?” You asked it not as a threat, but as a genuine inquiry. You didn't know if you had any clout at all to throw around here, but if ever there was an important moment to do so, it seemed like now was the time. You already were on what amounted to a nonsense mission, why not go a little further with it?

One of them, the bejeweled, lizard-like guard, squinted at you, flicked his tongue out, and then a look of recognition came onto his face. “Oh, wow. Sorry. Yes, I do. My sister was on that balcony, she was running out right behind you when everything…well. Go on in. I'll be sure you're not disturbed. Let me know if you need any help.” Then he turned and murmured something quietly to the other guard.

“Thank you.” You walked past him with a smile, immediately noting the two Monsters within the room, sitting at desks near the center, that glanced over at him sharply and were greeted by a flat shake of his head. And that was that, it seemed. 

Some time ago, Papyrus had casually mentioned a central system for the archives, connected to what he called a Gemsoul. Presumably, that would have to be the clear, head-sized, upside down crystalline heart floating at the center of the enormous, stadium-like room at about chest height. Once again, you rolled your eyes at the riches of Monster magic- you couldn't imagine a faceted diamond that big, but what else could it be? Stepping up to it, you pursed your lips, thinking…then whispered, “Oh, screw it”, and put a hand on the gently floating thing. There didn't appear to be any other way to interact with it.

Your vision went dim, the other Monsters in the room fading to barely-visible outlines surrounding bright white Souls. From your own chest, a brilliant orange like a passionflower shone out- your other hand was drawn to it like a magnet…or a completed circuit.

“Hmmmm, hmmmm…yes?” The slow, whispering voice seemed to come from over your shoulder, though of course there was no one there when you looked back. It sounded unmistakably masculine. “Human, interesting, hmmmm…sworn to repayment…this is recorded.” 

“What?” You murmured it under your breath, confused…”Oh, oh you mean with Toriel the other day? Yes, that was me.” 

“ What…do you…seek? What…do you…search for?” 

Inane tears of overwhelm came into your eyes for just a moment; you blinked them away impatiently. There'd be time to cry after everything was done, after your lover was safe from a madman with superpowers- you didn't even know why the question made you tear up in the first place. “I…I don't really know. But you're the librarian, right?”

A gentle, yet intimidating sensation went through you; a far less invasive version of Toriel's previous examination of your mind and motives, but with an infinitely larger hand behind it. This library, the consciousness within, could crush you as effortlessly as you could kill an ant. Yet it pulled your understanding of the word ‘librarian’ from your mind with such care and cautiousness that you couldn't fear it. 

“Researcher…knower, guide…keeper of learning…yes. This is pleasing.” 

“Okay.” You doubted you needed to talk out loud to it, whispering like you were, but it helped you focus. “Okay…then, librarian, I need your help. Your archive is beautiful and enormous, and I have so little time. Or at least it feels like I don't.”

Gentle amusement came through wordlessly- oh, if it had a gold for every time a being came through claiming the same. You glared at the softly-glowing stone. “Well since you're an immortal diamond Soul thingy, I'm sure time doesn't matter to you much. But I'm just a human, we don't get very long. And someone is trying to…to hurt the person, the people, that I love.” God only knew how long you'd been standing there already with your hands on this thing, staring at it slack jawed or talking to the air. The other Monsters in the room were probably laughing their little asses off at you. “I want to protect them, and I don't know how. So I need your help to show me where I can learn.”

For a moment, it was quiet- thinking, perhaps? And then…you heard your own silent thought-voice, replayed as a thought from another consciousness, the strangest experience you'd had to date in your life-

“...and please help me protect Papyrus.”

Embarrassed, you nodded. “Ah, um…yeah, that's it. Wow, you're…you're not just the library, are you?”

More amusement- no, it was not. And then…thought. Processing. A consciousness so old that you were beginning to realize how unfathomable it was, contemplating your heartfelt plea, and all of the offshoots of chance and information that came with it. You'd named it a librarian, and so it began to shape itself to that task. The gemstone under your hands grew warm, then hot, vibrating softly as it changed to help you. Flashes of information came far, far faster than you could comprehend them- cityscapes, Monsters of fantastical build and size, inventions, magic -a flipbook kaleidoscope of interconnected knowledge, all guided by the information it drew forth from you and everything else connected to it. Your love for your partner, your knowledge of the situation with the arsonist Mage, the palace complex's awareness of the arsonist when he'd been within its walls and all the investigations and conversations related to the evil man before and since, your memories of the crisis to date…and above all, your agonizing, genuinely crippling fear that Papyrus would be killed by a person-thing from nightmares, that had so much more capacity and power than anyone else. It was the audio-visual-experiential dial-up tone of a mind made of a million minds, and all you could do was stand and watch from the edge as infinite depths explored themselves at your request. ALL of that combined together, distilling and focusing, crystallizing and narrowing, under a simple command. “...and please help me protect Papyrus.”

And then there was silence, for a long, long time…until…

“Follow.” 

Your vision stayed dim and dark, the only specks of color around you coming from white Monster Souls and your own orange. But a wisp of white light appeared before you, a trail to follow- you did, wincing and hissing with pain at how raw your palms felt. You almost had to peel them off the gemstone- they'd stuck fast, like you'd touched a hot radiator. That trail led you deeper and deeper into the archives, to a large area tucked into the back left surrounded by silver filigree bars on every side and the top, like an enormous cage. When you looked down, the same filigree was set into the floor.  

You stopped before the delicate metal bars but the same whispery voice urged, “Through. Pass through.” ...so after a long, long time debating with yourself, you closed your eyes and, wincing, walked forward, expecting to hit hard metal.

You didn't. 

After a few steps, you risked a peek- you were past the cage, standing before cracked, aging wooden bookshelves that looked absolutely ancient. Each one was carved on every single surface- the symbols so small you had to squint to see them -with Monster runes and glyphs. And each one was inlaid with gemstones and metals, the largest piece no bigger than the white of your pinky nail. 

“For protection.” The voice murmured. “Preservation.”

“Why?” You whispered, awed. “What is this?” 

“Old knowledge.” 

“Do you bring other people here?” You stared around yourself in wonder, at the bookshelves that towered over you, nearly twenty feet tall, fitted with sliding ladders. 

“Yes. Or bring…themselves.” The wispy white trail appeared again, leading you deeper into this section. “Most are welcome. Not forbidden knowledge. Not dangerous. Just…old. Precious. Protected from careless hands. Here. Take lens from shelf- bespelled with translation, for old forgotten words.” As you obeyed, grabbing a circular piece of clear glass set into copper from a stack of them next to you, you realized the archive-spirit-database thing was starting to ‘speak’ more like a person, with a normal cadence and rhythm. Like it was becoming the librarian that you'd asked it to. 

The shelves weren't packed in this large, enclosed section like they were in the greater archive. Some had a single scroll on them; more than a few held a single document. Another beside you contained bound stacks of what looked like sheets of mica, engraved with letters. Others writings were like the forebears of modern books, with faded leather wrapped around what had to be either papyrus or parchment.

“Should I be wearing gloves to touch these?” 

“Hmmmmm…no. Magic to preserve, to protect. Against water, fire, filth and fading.” It sounded like a spell. “But concern is appreciated. Ah. Here. Begin collecting.”

The white light highlighted a single tome to your left. 

Hours and hours later…

Silent as a ghost, Frisk slipped out from behind a heavy tapestry, padding over with exhaustion on bare feet to the desk you'd been sitting at in a private, locked research alcove. You'd left all of the books and scrolls out, turned to the page you've been reading; and why wouldn't you? Your confidentiality had been assured, a key given into your hand only…though the guards doing the assuring didn't know all the secret passages and tunnels that Frisk did. Curious, they leafed through a few of the books. No one, not even Asriel, knew that they could read Old Celestial without the slow, plodding assistance of a translation spell; the language of Monsters before they'd named themselves ‘Warning’ in the wake of their betrayal. Back when they'd simply been ‘The People’. 

No, Frisk had no need for the lens you'd used, bespelled with sluggish translation enchantments…after all, they'd spent years in the palace during some cycles, being fed and cared for like a ghost that needed a few meals a day, their father waiting every morning to slay them, and falling asleep long after nightfall relieved that he hadn't needed to that day. They'd learned many things in those times, as palace tutors long without a student softened to the strange child that wandered their home. Languages. Histories. Astronomy and mathematics. They'd learned, and grown, and wandered the old, forgotten secret passages of the palaces. 

After all, they'd had an eternity to explore. 

One ‘book’ in particular, a bound stack of paper-thin bronze sheets bespelled for longevity and carved with text, had caught your eye- you'd leaned over it for at least an hour, slowly rereading the same dozen pages, flipping back and forth as you made notes on your tablet. Curious, they flipped it so they could see the cover.

“Potestas Oblita- The Warpaires of Manek-Enil”

…interesting. Feeling like they were seeing something terribly important but not yet understanding why (a very familiar feeling, they noted with a sigh of frustration), Frisk opened it to the first page, thicker than the others. It was an ancient tradition of Monsters to have a quick summary of any text at the front of their works, but they were often written almost poetically; the author's attempt to convey the Soul of the words, rather than their logical meaning. This one was even more esoteric than most. 

Verily, what be the hearth, if not the very heart of the homestead? And what be a blade, save a Soul with purpose and point?

I didst stand upon the brink of that wide and woeful field, where two great princedoms made war. 

 And beheld the dread Art Arcane in furious tempest tossed,
Like unto monstrous beasts in shadowed strife beneath the moon.

About me rang the clarion calls of the holy Warpairs,
Kennel and hound,
Sheath and blade,
Forge and molten bronze-
From one born, unto the other bestowed.
O ye Hearthholders, cry aloud!
O Honorblades, bend to will!

As the warrior claspeth sword in hand,
So do they strive together,
Time upon time, the sacred gift renewed,
The vow reforged anew.

Two as One.
Two as One.
Two as One.
Lo, a Seraphim made flesh, their Ecclesiastic sanctified beside them.
Within them,

And when the clash hath ceased-

They are made Two once more.

Very carefully, Frisk opened the book again to where you'd left it, angling it just so on the table. The pages you'd been flicking through seemed to be the account books of a Monster war , of all things. A fight for territories between two Monster splinter-lines of royalty, before the first Dreemurs- Toriel’s parents -had united their people two hundred and thirty years prior to the imprisoning war. 

The pages you'd spent the most time on, going back to them again and again, was a list of requisitions to support…families? 

Families, yes. Couples, sometimes with children, sometimes with extended family included as well. The foodstuffs and supplies needed to furnish households for the duration of the battles, dozens of them. 

…why? Even in those ancient times, as far as they’d been taught by their history tutors, Monsters had warred similarly to humans, with paid soldiers and guards traveling with their lords or ladies in formation. Never in their own endless curiosity or their formal education after freedom had Frisk come across something like this, the idea that households would travel together to battle. What was the point? Was it that every family member was fighting, even the children? No…that couldn't be, there were requests here for medicines that eased a teenaged daughter’s monthly cramps, for herbs to cure a young child’s cough or fever, for cribs, and even baby toys for god’s sake. But no child-sized armor or weapons. The children weren't fighting…but then why bring them to begin with? Why were both parents going to war- were things truly so desperate back then? 

And what kind of Monster children needed medicine for menstrual cramps and coughs?

Noise echoed from the hallway outside, subdued murmurs; you were walking back, chatting with the guards. Frisk retreated quickly, confused as hell and not liking the feeling at all. 

Maybe if they asked carefully enough, you'd tell them what you'd found. Their instincts screamed that something here was important…but what? 

The Queen smiled at Frisk, nodding as her child sat half collapsed into one of the chairs in her rooms at the palace. “She expressed to me that she wishes to understand our people. Are you so shocked to find her in a place of learning? Perhaps she is a student of history- her work with the humans would revolve around many purchases and orders, of the keeping track of goods and services exchanged for the building and repair of facilities. I'm not surprised that she would find a historical account of such a thing equally interesting.”

“Oh… yeah, you're right. I didn't even think about that.” Frisk scrubbed a hand over their eyes, and Toriel's Soul pinched in her chest. She, and few others, knew the cost of maintaining the barrier. She knew that it was an almost agonizing weight of expenditure and focus, a spell meant for at least four Mages being cast by only one. “I just…I guess I'm curious why now, you know? Why be interested in that kind of thing now? The other books too, they were about Souls. Human, Monster…I don't know. It was just…weird.” 

“She is partnered to a Monster of incredibly unique origin and power.” She handed her child another cup of tea, heavily sweetened and fortified with magic. “And, though I don't wish to overshare and intimate details, I know for a fact that they have been having some interesting incidents revolving around that partnership and his magic lately. Yes, there is a crisis happening in our world. But lives do not stop, and love waits for no tragedy.” 

They nodded…then sighed, took their tea, and wandered back out into the royal wing of the palace again. 

The moment they were gone, Toriel put her head in her hands. She hated to lie to Frisk, but old instinct told her not to intercede in whatever was happening here, a plan put in motion beyond her control. She didn't want to risk their interference either, no matter how well-intentioned it might be.

Unlike Frisk, Toriel knew very, very well what the book they'd described was about. For she’d seen it with her own eyes…so, so long ago.

Suddenly she grinned, then laughed a little, peeking up through her fingers at the ceiling. Oh, the possibility was so small, so small…but the chance, the chance. 

Sans was right. Papyrus's partner was too smart for her own good, wasted on such low aspirations when she could reach so much higher. The two of them together? 

“Oh my child…be careful, be careful.” She gazed out through the window beside her over her kingdom, a seed of hope blooming in her chest. “Be more careful than you have ever been in your life.”

Curiosity thrilled her. After waiting a few minutes to ensure her beloved child had wandered off to other interests, Toriel slipped out a side passage of her chambers, taking the weaving secret halls that led to the Gemsoul of the castle. Most believed it to be nearly 850 years old, a relic of the Monsters when they'd moved to New Home. Very few knew that it was saved from the old palace, the structure that had once crowned the Mountain in her childhood- the place she'd been born and raised. The artifact had been secreted to Home, and then to New Home, when her people had fled into exile.

Only members of the royal family could enter this chamber. She waited for the old, sleepy magics to recognize her and allow her passage, then stepped up and placed her paws on the floating, faceted diamond heart of the palace complex, three feet across at its widest point, the lobes facing downward and the tip pointing at the ceiling of this vaulted chamber.

“Hello old friend,” she whispered. “Hello.” It took a moment, as it always did, for it to answer her. It was a consciousness born of countless magics, of the infinite enchantments and spells innate and placed on the structures of their Royal house. 

Recognition chimed in her Soul; it knew her. She'd spent so long in her youth this way, in a similar (now destroyed, lost to time) chamber far above, communing with this same consciousness in the sun. It had been younger then, yet somehow just as wise. Smiling, she leaned in, and pressed her forehead to its icy surface. “I do not mean to interfere in any way. I do not mean to stop her in her search for answers. I only wish to ask…are you helping a human girl in your archives? Are you assisting her in her seeking?” 

A long pause; it was thinking. And then sound. Whispering, shushing sound- a thousand words overlapping each other, broken sentences, bits of remembered noise. Flashes of images, flares of emotion- nervousness, concern, awe, fear. All of it with a regular pattern beneath it of ‘ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum’. She hummed, understanding after a moment- she'd never heard a human’s mind before. 

And then, cutting through it all, a request so clear she could hear it in your voice, and with it a rush of images and emotions that made her smile and bow her head at their sincerity. Young love was so beautiful. 

“...And please help me protect Papyrus.”

With satisfaction, the Gemsoul gently pushed her from their communion. It had decided that it would do this thing, for the being that had asked was interesting indeed, and it had not met something like her in a very, very, very long time. Only because the mortal's hand had been on the oathstone connected directly to its matrix could it receive the request at all. But received it had, and so that was that- it would guide the mortal woman's eye to old, old knowledge. It would show her, perhaps, just a few of its secrets.

Secrets like ancient books, like ancient legends…like ancient truths. Truths that defied what modern Monsters thought was possible.

Bowing deeply, Toriel turned after a few moments of contemplation, and returned to her chambers. She hated sleeping at the palace rather than her house in New New Home…but so be it. As least her dreams would be sweet that night. How could they not be, after experiencing what she just did? 

Papyrus felt a bit superstitious, buying paper charms- it was a thing grannies did, pinning them to children's clothing or hiding them under bedframes for good dreams. Still, the stall had drawn his eye as he left the Underground’s main market that night with a few bags of dinner things, as had the little old Poppipkin that ran it. He sat behind the small wooden counter with wizened root hands, carefully drawing old-fashioned rune signs on heavy paper with berry inks. One in particular caught his eye, pinned to the bottom-most corner and fluttering in the slight magical breeze. The little label under it said, “Protection from wicked thoughts and wicked deeds”. 

The Poppipkin didn't even look up from under his wide, red-speckled mushroom cap; he stuck out a wrinkly hand when Papyrus approached, took his gold, then pointed at the counter. Jostling his plastic bags around, he carefully unpinned the one he'd liked, then tucked it in between a box of granola and a pack of strawberries. When he got home, you were ensconced in a blanket on the couch with headphones on, bouncing slightly to your music as you worked on your laptop. He winked at you when you glanced up, grinning at how happy you looked when you waved at him, then wandered into the bedroom to tape the little paper charm to the bedpost under your side of the bed. That done, he went and started making smoothie bowls for dinner. 

Three nights later, your frantic shaking woke him- Cheese was growling from his bed in the corner. “Py, wake up! Something is burning, I can smell it!” He swore like a sailor under his breath, throwing the blankets off and dropping to his knees to peer under the bed as you searched wildly for the source of the smoke.

Sure enough, a little, smoldering curl of ash sat on the floor; the remnant of a paper charm against evil. The scorch mark under it formed the same kind of sprawling, bursting pattern as what he'd seen in the palace, but rendered no larger than a quarter- the charm had done its job, absorbing an evil spell.

“AH.” A pause. “SHIT.” 

_

Papyrus yawned behind his hand the next morning- it was his own damn fault that he was there, really. He didn't have to be at these dawn meetings. He wasn't even technically a guardsman! But with the investigative division in shambles after their leader and higher ups had fled, Undyne was close to breaking under the workload suddenly dumped into her lap…and so he was there, to help his friend. Just as he'd been every morning for the past week. 

Toriel had just finished explaining that the human police may have found a partial DNA match- they were working on refining their results -when her voice trailed off as a letter flew into the room on folded paper wings, untwisting itself in mid-air and flattening onto the table before her. She read the short message written there, blinked, looked away, then read it again. Papyrus and Sans exchanged exhausted looks across the wide table as, for the third time, the Queen's eyes visibly moved over the page.

Finally, she sat it down.

“...well. Well, well, well.”

Only a handful of Monsters accompanied her to the meeting room where she'd instructed her staff to lead the three visitors apparently mentioned in the note; Toriel was being unusually tight-lipped about its contents. Undyne and her two senior guards, Alphys, Sans, Papyrus, Toriel's head scribe Moonsong, two palace clerks, and a few others working on the investigation.

When they all entered, the three humans within looked up. They'd been sitting clustered around one end of the table, untouched drinks and plates of refreshments before them. Papyrus hummed in interest- one was a young woman, wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt and sweater; perhaps of Chinese ancestry? The others were either brother and sister, or a father who'd had his daughter very young- the woman stood behind him, her hands resting on the handles of the wheelchair he sat in. They both had pale, freckled skin and bright red hair, and the man wore dog tags over his t-shirt and unbuttoned blue shirt.

The duo looked nervous, but the moment the young woman in a sweater’s eyes fell on Toriel, she grinned hugely. Leaning forward, she placed her phone on the table, and hit a button. An automated translating voice began to speak what she'd typed. “Hello! My name is Jia Liu. I took a flight here from Hong Kong, I'm a student there. I met James online. I run a special website. I came here to help you, because of the man who is setting fires and using magic.”

Shaking his head at her bouncing eagerness, James gave a rough nod. “And that would be me, James Morreson, and my sister Sarah here. Well, she's not part of the website. But she came with me, since it can be damn hard to do things on my own sometimes." It took Papyrus a moment to place his accent. British, maybe?

Toriel had her most polite public face on. “And it is wonderful to meet all of you. May I ask why you three have come knocking on our doors, demanding to see me and only me? Do you have information about the arsonist attacks?” When the young woman from Hong Kong blinked at her, plainly dumbfounded to hear her own language, Toriel gestured to the other Monsters around her gracefully. “We speak with all peoples, in all places. You may understand me, and I may understand you. It is a gift of our power; the All-Speak.”

“Oh!” She bounced up out of her seat, slinging a backpack off her back. “Then I'll go first! I started a website to find other people like me. We're secret for now, some of us are afraid of what our governments and the people around us might do. I'm sure you've heard of things like that in human history- we like to hurt each other.” Rooting through her backpack, she pulled out two laptops, and a metal cylinder that she plugged into them as she spoke. “The others wouldn't come yet, they're too scared. Of our governments, of the people around them. But we decided to come, because you need help with that man who is hurting everybody. He needs to be stopped…and I'm going to take over your wifi now.” 

Toriel frowned slightly at her erratic behavior, raising the fingers on the hand in her lap; the guards in the room subtly shifted, tensing-

“Jia, you're scaring them.” The man spoke in flawless Cantonese as well, without even  a hint of accent. “You need to explain what you're doing before you get us killed!” He put up his hands, glancing between Toriel and the guards. “Please, your Majesty, she means well. This isn't a threat, she's just…eager, I-”

“Yup!” Jia grinned, sliding her laptops back a little and crawling up onto the table. “Ready for the surprise?”

And then, before anyone in the room could react, the woman rubbed her hands together and slapped them down on the keyboards of both laptops…and a flare of emerald light so deep and pure that it put the greenery in the room to shame rolled out from her in a sudden burst of magic. 

Every Monster gasped. 

The plants in the corners and below the windows began growing like mad, cracking their own pots as their root systems spread, years of growth in seconds. The floor and walls groaned; the ceiling let fall a pile of dust. And then both TV screens on the walls, the projector at the end of the room, and every single person’s cell phone lit up with the same message as each of them switched on, seemingly all on their own. 

“My name is Jia Liu. I am a computer specialist, and a lesser green was-shu. A sorcerer. My magic is that of connection and restoration. And I've come to help my cousin.” 

The phone fell from Toriel’s fingers to clatter across the floor; Sans scrambled for it, his eyes wide as he glanced up at Papyrus. The Queen looked stunned. 

The young woman, satisfied at her demonstration, leaned back a little, though everyone could see now that her hands had sunk into the laptops. Far beyond where they should have been able to within the thin cases, almost up past her wrists; wires seemed to crawl up them, following the pattern of her veins….or did they plunge into her veins?   “Okay! It's your turn, James!”

The man in the wheelchair winced, his hands still up. “Right, maybe I should wait, huh? So you probably all have a lot of questions for us and all, I-”

Toriel stood up, her voice a gentle command- she waved the guards back as they began to round on Jia. “...no. Show me what you have come to show me, Mister Morreson. Right now.” 

He hesitated. “...inside? It…I'm afraid it might ruin the carpet ma'am, I can't always stop the cloudburst-”

“Now, sir.” Every other Monster exchanged confused looks as Toriel loomed over them. What was happening?!

James bit his lip…then nodded, glancing back at his sister. She offered them all a nervous smile, reaching forward, and wrapping her arms around his chest like a seatbelt. For a moment, nothing happened…and then they felt it. 

Pressure. 

Wind. 

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees, and all at once, the man went limp against his sister’s hold. Moments later, something that Papyrus truly could not describe as anything else but a spirit rose from the man, shaped like him but made of translucent golden light. Little lightnings crackled over his form- glancing up, Alphys cried out in shock and pointed at the ceiling, where miniature clouds had begun to form from thin air, obscuring the beautiful mosaic tiles.

“So, ah…I'm James, as you know.” The man’s voice was the whisper of a far off thunderstorm, booming and cracking from no single point. “I served thirteen years in the royal navy, until I broke my bloody back, and woke up in the hospital able to do this. If we were outside, I'd do the lightning and all, but…we aren't. I'm a, um, a great mage, I think you call them, of yellow magic. Justice, and the law, and the freedom the two give…” Sheepishness somehow came into the rumble of his voice. “And, ah…right. All of that.” 

The sound of something shattering made everyone spin - Frisk, gray with exertion and swaying in place from the agony of holding their barrier alone, stood in the now open doorway, a coffee mug in pieces around their feet as a puddle of liquid spread. Jia shrieked with glee, and every single screen in the room- every monitor, TV, phone, and projector flashed with nonsense patterns and colors like they were overloading, then settled on a cacophony of greetings in every font and shade imaginable.

“Oh wow, hi!” 

“I brought help!”

“Hello!”

“You're so cool!”

“It's nice to finally meet you in person!” 

“I TOLD YOU I'd come!”

James sank back down into his body, while Frisk began to weep with joy, half-running, half-limping into the room as they threw themselves into Jia's arms. Toriel rubbed her temples, collapsing back into her chair. 

And Papyrus?

Papyrus, for the first time in weeks, felt a stirring of excitement in his Soul...a stirring of hope.

Chapter Text

He watched, gritting his teeth so hard that he felt the telltale cracking squeak of a veneer popping loose, as the bizarre force field around the filthy mountain slowly shifted, going from a pure, pale red to a translucent, tri-colored blend of scarlet, gold, and brilliant green. Just drawing near the thing stung- if he tried to push closer, the pain grew unbearable. He'd attempted it again the night before, accompanied by copious heroin to numb the burning, and found that it's glimmering side- once he finally, agonizingly reached it- was as hard and smooth as glass. He couldn't slide through it like he could the vermin’s gauzy spells.

Now? Just being within a hundred yards of it ached, a dull throb behind his jaw that made him shiver and rub his arms, chilled by the misting rain that had started to fall the night before. He hated to touch illegal drugs- they were the stuff of street trash and useless idiots- but he couldn't very well just walk into a doctors office and get a narcotic prescribed for magic pain, could he? 

….no. He'd tried that already, pouring money into three different providers pockets. None of them would risk their licenses, and something about him bothered humans now. He naturally put them on their guard, like a predator swimming into a school of bait fish. That thought made him smile- good. He liked that they were afraid, even if it was…inconvenient.

But still, damn this magical wall, no doubt the work of the pet mage that the ‘monster’ royalty had swayed to their service. 

Recruitment had been going so well lately- over a hundred brave men had answered his online, magically-influenced calls for action. One was even ex-military, and a police officer no less! A man who truly cared for his fellow humanity, who wanted to make a difference. He'd immediately put him to use, training the others as they arrived in town on how to blockade streets with cars and trash, how to direct a crowd with the press of bodies and discreetly fired blanks, and so much more.

Soon, things would be ready. Ready for one beautiful, glorious, brilliant moment.

The spark of revolution. 

…

God, he couldn't wait to make him proud. 

The meeting that Friday morning promised to be interesting, if nothing else. Papyrus wandered along behind his brother and Alphys, watching the royal entourage ahead of them all. The King and Queen were accompanied by a double handful of royal assistants, and flanked by members of their security council, with Undyne and two of her senior guards whispering together behind. Once everyone was settled and old business was taken care of, the topic of that weekend’s baseball game- the one Asriel had started planning a little festival for- came up. It was apparently a common topic, ever since the Prince had proposed his idea.

News had come in over the past few days. The board of directors for the stadium was in upheaval- apparently, some anonymous whistle-blower had leaked information the month before about federal and state funding being misappropriated to exclude Monsters based on race, which had lead to an investigation of salaries and dealings between the many contracted services and food vendors companies within the stadium complex itself. The CEO and owner, a rotten bigot, was currently on leave with his salary and accounts frozen on suspicion of embezzlement of federal funds. 

That was the one silver lining of the arsonist attacks, if you could even call it that. With the country's eyes on Ebott, justice moved faster than it usually did. The FBI was eager for something to do in the city, and had latched onto the idiot owner- Norman Duvelle- with brutal efficiency. In an effort to make nice with the public and the law, the board was eager and willing to do anything the Monsters asked for this last game, offering to hire triple (and armed) security for the event. Papyrus had to smile to himself as one of the Crown assistants read off a summary of the entire situation- he was fairly certain he knew whose efforts had managed to draw attention to the stadium's mismanagement…though you'd never mentioned anything beyond irritation at the situation.

The entire security council were firmly against the idea of going forward with a sponsored Crown event at the game…but Undyne had apparently stayed very quiet every time it was mentioned for the past week, per those who had attended meetings Papyrus hadn't, until that morning. She'd instead been talking privately with her own guards, then more recently with Frisk and the other two mages, not sharing an opinion when the others did.

That, apparently, was changing.

“Actually…” she said thoughtfully, dragging her fingertip around the rim of her glass of water after the initial yelling died down, “I…wonder if we can use this.” Her uncharacteristically quiet interruption cut through the arguing voices that echoed around the room- everyone turned to stare at her. Even the Crown assistants, usually completely unflappable, paused in their incessant scribbling to glance in her direction.

Asgore cocked a brow. “Explain, Senior Captain.” Papyrus caught the brief look of gratitude that she flashed at her King- the use of her formal title would remind the other self-important people in the room that her words were to be respected. 

“We can use this. To make people like us and all, yeah…but more importantly, as a trap.” She continued fiddling with her cup, not looking at anyone. “He might come in person, might not. But he won't be able to resist doing something stupid, and then we get the chance to catch either him or some of his little lackeys. Both are a good prize, right? He's best, but even if it's one of his followers, we can use their accounts online to impersonate and spy on him from the inside.”

One of her guard captains picked up the thread. “The green mage is a mage of connection. She claims, once she has that initial connecting point to him, that she’ll be able to bypass any online security or technological privacy efforts that he has in place, given enough time. But she needs that first point to start from. And there are many simple ways to get information from humans.” 

The head of the security council shook his head, the feathers of his crest ruffling. “I cannot condone it, regardless of the potential for success. Your Majesties, the risk is enormous-”

“Everything we do now is a risk.” Undyne's voice was still soft. It was such a contrast to her usual exuberance that it gave weight to her words. “The barrier is a risk- world governments are harassing the King every day, asking if he's planning something against them under here. Having three mages in one space is a risk- we aren't prepared for the magical fallout if any of them get pissy.” She squarely met Asgore’s eye for the first time since the start of the meeting.

Papyrus sat back, interested, as the other guard put a piece of paper on the table, pointing to things on it as if she had a list. “His recruiting efforts online are increasing- the green mage has found several separate forums and new chat rooms online that he's running, exerting his magical influence through.” She moved her finger down. “The yellow mage’s sneakerpeeper rain spell has shown not only escalating attacks from his followers just over the past two days, but also an increase in pro-arsonist graffiti, using a symbol of a flame in a stylized sun. They're organizing, your Majesties, and public opinion against us is beginning to turn. People are getting damn sick of tragedies.” Undyne held up a sketch of the symbol to support the other woman's words. “Finally, the green mage says that his VPN and security setup are extraordinary , and far outside the reach of the average citizen. He is running a private server bank and quite possibly his own ISP. She can find his work online, but she can't find him, and says that the quality of it all speaks to a level of wealth we hadn't considered yet.”

(Sans passed him a note under the table- dinner 2nite at grillby’s with your girl? my treat. )

Undyne rolled her head on her neck, sighing. “The yellow mage can focus his spell on the stadium and all, give us warning of any bullshit. I assume the arsonist doesn't know we have the extra help, so it gives us an enormous advantage. And we can use the human’s tripled security force as the obvious security, while hiding plain clothes guards and federal police through the crowd.” 

“for what its worth, morbid as it might be, it could make the dude hesitate if there's a lot of humans mixed into the monster area.” Sans said it so smoothly, you'd never guess that he'd been playing on a game boy under the table the entire meeting. “just having them there is like a whole extra layer of armor. remember, he had a chance to attack the church and the county offices and all in broad daylight, full of people. but he didn't.”

Undyne nodded. “It's a calculated risk…a trap. One we can't freaking afford to miss. And if we back out now, we give him and his weirdos another victory to rally around. Statistics and all that other crap say that can be even more dangerous.”

The security council argued their best, but it seemed Undyne's secret discussions with Frisk and the other mages had armed her with plentiful ammunition. The meeting ended with a vote. 20 for, 18 against…and so the game was still on, with a small, family-friendly Monster festival being held on the green…and a veritable militia of security forces ready to capture the man once and for all.

Privately, Papyrus still wondered if it was the right decision. 

You were, admittedly, a little nervous about accompanying your partner to so large and public an event so soon after the harvest dance…but Frisk had apparently asked for you specifically, and you hated to ignore the young mage’s request. So you threw on your most respectable, flowy slacks and summer top, a comfortable pair of sandals, and pulled all your hair back in preparation to sweat your ass off at seven-plus hours of outdoor, unshaded sports…

…only to be absolutely surprised and delighted by what the Monsters had set up. The entire green, the only place they were allowed to sit, had turned into something between a tailgate and a colorful bazaar, with Monster food stands and open-fronted sitting areas that were magically cooled and ten times bigger on the inside than they were on the outside. Papyrus settled in with Alphys and Undyne, along with a few important guardsfolk who spent much of the game in deep discussion with their captain- you and Alphys watched the game along with your partner, ignoring the conspiratorial murmurs behind you. The two women had opted to bring a little pavilion full of pillows and cushions, perfect for lounging and snacking on Monster delicacies, and after a few hours of relaxation and fun, your anxiety had faded to the back of your mind.

Then, disruptively, you realized you needed to pee. It was the start of the fifth inning, and the crowds around the top of the stadium were starting to die down again as people went back to their seats…what better time to go? A human federal officer, a woman with sensible eyes and a friendly smile, nodded to you as you stepped out into the misty, humid heat of the evening. “Their Majesties asked me to accompany you if you leave the area.”

Papyrus smiled at you when you glanced back, giving you a thumbs up. “IT'S OKAY! QUEEN TORIEL LIKES HER VERY MUCH, PLUS, THE RAIN IS A SUPER SNEAKY SPELL TOO. SOMEONE IS WATCHING EVERYTHING THROUGH IT. YOU’LL BE FINE.”

Odd, but what did you know of magic? The walk over was uneventful but crowded. Even with the very light rain falling, it seems like the entire city had turned out for the last game of the season. The line for the bathroom alone was ridiculous- trying your best not to distract the woman beside you as she turned back and forth with sharp, attentive eyes, you scrolled through your phone until you reached the doorway. 

“I'll stay out here unless I hear something happen,” she murmured, stepping to the side to lean against the wall comfortably.

It might have been weird to say, but you really didn't care- the atmosphere in the bathroom gave you hope for the future between both peoples. All of the women there, humans and Monsters alike, passed each other in comfortable quiet or chatted, depending on their natures. When the announcer called that Ebott scored a double, loading the bases, everyone gave a little cheer, grinning at each other. 

Still smiling, you walked out of the bathroom. Then, out of nowhere, someone took your arm in theirs, pulling you close as they towed you away. You jumped, tugging playfully as you turned, half-expecting Papyrus…and felt your heart stop in your chest. 

It was the arsonist.

It had to be him- he'd gotten a haircut and shaved his beard, but it was him- the similarity to his mugshots was unmistakable, and you'd looked at those pictures over and over, trying to figure out what kind of person would do what he was. Tall, slender, and sharp-featured, the hateful man was dressed in a simple black button up, slacks, and very nice leather shoes. He had the same dark hair and deeply set brown eyes as you'd seen in those crisp photos. The same protruding adam's apple and sharp chin. The same deathly pale skin, and dry, severely cracked to the point of bloodied lips. 

A whisper in your ear- “Scream, and I'll kill ten people. Ten lives ended, because of your mistake.”

He'd dragged your hand up over his bicep and was holding it there with an iron grip in mockery of leaning on his arm, forcing you to match his longer step as he strolled along the gravel patch, standing upright again after bending so you could hear his threat. “I'm glad I finally get to meet you.” Even his voice was wrong, somehow- too high for a man so tall, almost girlish. Like a twisted mockery of your partner's pure tenor. “I've been waiting for the chance, ever since we saw each other at the ‘dance’. I'm rather excited, you know.” 

Panic churned in your belly; he knew you, god help you he did remember. The crown’s security forces had worried he would somehow recognize you from so far away, and now that worry had come true. You looked around frantically, but the officer who'd subtly accompanied you was lying at the midst of a small commotion some twenty feet away, groaning on the ground and clutching her stomach as people bent over her with concern. It was obvious the man had done something to her, though you didn't know what, and it made the perfect little distraction. No one even looked your way as you were led off into the crowd.

He glanced down at you, smiling almost playfully, overly-familiar- as if the two of you were old friends who'd run into each other. You saw he was missing a tooth in front, an incisor, but his others were too-white, obviously veneers. Why leave one that way, if he could afford expensive veneers for the rest? “What? Cat got your tongue?” 

Your stomach twisted, your hands and face numb and cold. You tried to say something, to open your mouth; his too-fast pace made you trip on the loose gravel, but he kept his hold on you with inhuman grace, nearly dragging you across the stones by your arm for a few steps until you regained your feet. The shock of it shook your voice loose- not knowing his intentions, you tried for neutral politeness. “Please slow down- you're hurting me. I can't walk as fast-”

“No.” He grinned at you as he said it, but the words were flat and cruel; the constant discord between his expression and his tone sent goosebumps rippling up your arms. “I don't feel like it. I want to talk to you.” He said it like that explained his rough treatment. The very slight mist of rain that had been falling since the morning before increased a little bit - it reminded you of your partner's earlier words. ‘ The rain meant that someone was watching.’ Maybe, then, someone knew the arsonist had you. In that case, it was logically your job to keep him calm and try to avoid walking anywhere alone with him. You were doing your best to slow down, but the man's grip on your hand was like steel, bordering on painful; his strength was immense. The oddness of his gait attracted more than a few eyes too; people were confused to see a man rushing in a wide stride, quite literally dragging a woman along beside him.

“Sir, you're hurting me. Please let go of my hand. I won't try to get away from you if you do.” Calm, quiet, polite. Keep him happy, keep him assured of your obedience. You didn't know much more than that; the security team was actually supposed to start teaching you how to react in situations like this starting on Monday. How useful.

“Oh, but I want to hurt you!” The giggle under his voice could have been about receiving a new video game or computer for christmas, it was so cheerful and genuine. He stepped around a concrete fence post, the kind that would sometimes hold a decorative chain to mark out a waiting line for one of the food court stalls, and banged your hip into it by pulling you suddenly sideways. The sharp pain made your eyes water, especially since you couldn't even reach down to press a hand to it- he had a hold on one, and you were using the other to brace against his arm, trying to slow him down and keep your balance. “I mean…obviously, I want to hurt you, right? You hurt me! The big white one burned me, didn't you know that? The male gagged me like an animal, it cut into my tongue! And then he dragged me all the way back to that castle!” As if to make his point, he sped his steps just a little more. Doing the same to you, you realized- dragging you to where he wanted to, copying Asgore’s arrest. Then another sensation cut through your instinctive horror at the man's behavior; the hand holding yours down to his arm was beginning to get hot. 

He'd led the two of you halfway around the top of the stadium by then, past the last row of food and drink vendors and nearly opposite from the large green where the Monsters were. Next would be the wide outdoor patio seating for the beer garden, and then the path dead ended as a large concrete balcony hanging over the parking four stories below, giving drinkers a place to congregate and chat, or extra room for tables. “Really, this is the silliest of indulgences on my part-” 

‘He's well spoken’, you noted, trying despite your fear to note anything of use about him. ‘Educated, or at least successfully pretending to be.’ 

“-it's not what I came for at all- the vermin being so nicely in one spot. But when I saw you, I just couldn't-help-myself!” He yanked you sideways a bit on each of those last words, making you stumble and wrenching your shoulder in its socket. It was a bully’s behavior, nastiness for the sake of being nasty. His touch on you had gotten hot enough now that you instinctively wanted to yank away, like a hot burner or a fire. You tried to fight the urge, not wanting to anger him, but your body did it once without your permission; he rewarded you with a hard kick to the side of your ankle, knocking you sideways off your feet without letting go of you. “Don't be disrespectful!”

You couldn't help it- you cried out in pain just as thunder rumbled in the sky. The clouds were getting darker fast, and some distant, logical part of you hoped that there'd be a downpour. If the man got so angry with you that he tried to set you on fire, maybe the rain would help. 

“Shhhhh,” he said, switching in another manic flash from rage to gentle soothing, squeezing your hand gently- it made the burning heat so much worse. “It's okay, don't be upset. I just wanted to understand you. To understand what would make a lovely woman- graduating with honors, an engineering degree- be willing to fornicate with an animal. Beastiality is a sin, you know. Of course, sins can be forgiven, but…well, what is purgatory but a cleansing fire?”

‘Talk, talk- keep him talking, make him happy. Ignore the pain, save your own life! Talk, damnit!’ “S-so are you the cleansing fire? And don’t you n-need a license to buy a…oh god, a-a ticket?” God it hurt, it hurt so badly- tears you couldn't control were starting to drip down your face. It was so hot that it was beginning to feel cold in a sharp, excruciating way. You could see your skin was starting to turn an ugly purplish red around where his fingertips dug into your flesh, and didn't dare to look too closely lest you vomit.

He nodded wisely, patting your hand, making the fine hairs there shrivel and turn black with each touch. “I know this stadium very well. Very, very well. Quite a bit of history there, if you'd believe it! Such a family friendly place." Even as he bared his teeth on the words 'family friendly', he smiled down at the field below where the players continued the game, they and their onlookers alike completely unaware of what was happening to you. "Oh my dear, it is just so sad that you've chosen to waste your talents on charity. So intelligent, so gifted…yet spending your days designing houses for tramps and imbeciles, fighting to bring disgusting back-alley drug dens ‘up to code’ so to speak...and building warrens for mountain rats to move into.” His dark eyes, oddly, showed the whites the whole way around as he looked back down at you again. “Does it satisfy you, somehow? Bringing society low by helping the trash survive? Lying beside a corpse at night, in your sweet little home- it's not too far from here, right?” He jerked you out of the way of an approaching group of children as they ran by. “Does he fuck you, somehow? I really do want to understand. It can't possibly be better than a real person, and you're certainly pretty enough in your own way. There are certainly enough- oh what do they call them -ah, yes, ‘chubby chasers’ in the world…one has to be able to satisfy you.”

Revulsion twisted in your stomach- he knew where you lived. Of course it wasn't impossible to learn, but god you'd hoped, you'd hoped. The mockery in his tone was cruel. He was trying to hit insecurities, it was obvious.

As the two of you neared the large balcony, the friendliness left his face again as quickly as it had appeared- he stopped for a moment to face you, staring at you with those wide, manic eyes. “Answer me, whore. Do you let him touch you? What is the red light around their rat mountain that repels me? And why can't I get near your house-”

Movement cut him off. Three humans in normal clothing stood from their tables at the beer garden after the two of you passed as if they'd been waiting there, pulling guns and training them on him. Over the balcony railing, two lithely armored royal guards swung up, landing silently on the concrete. These were Queensguards, you realized with knee-wobbling relief. The silver filigree on their armor crackled with tiny yellow sparks of magical energy, and each one held a spear made of a strange, dull metal that almost shimmered in the air, like a heat mirage- both were set with a large, faceted, glowing gem at the base of their blades that was the color of blood. Their helms were down, their hands steady as they leveled the weapons at the madman. 

“Release her!” The guard’s voice rang out in the sudden silence, as the ‘normal’ people all around you, startled into freezing for a moment, began to shout and flee the area. “Release her now!”

Chapter Text

“Release her!” The guard’s voice rang out in the sudden silence, as the ‘normal’ people all around you, startled into freezing for a moment, began to shout and flee the area. “Release her now!”

The mage growled- not an 'ooooh so sexy' action movie star's rumbling noise in his chest, but an actual growl. It was an absolutely not human sound in a throat with an anatomy that you instantly knew, in that moment, didn't match yours. He tried to pull you in closer as the rain picked up, when suddenly a burst of offense, of indignation and injustice filled you; for just a moment, the edges of your vision flashed a brilliant golden-yellow. The shock of color cut through the cold panic, the constant fight or flight that had wrapped you up and left you barely able to respond to the threat of his presence. With a cry of disgust and pain, you wrenched your hand away from the man as hard as you could, the cry ratcheting into a scream as he yanked back and something in your shoulder *popped* wetly…but it threw him off balance just enough to put a foot or two of space between you. As he did, you saw something small and fluttering and orange appear from the man's chest, floating before him and moving as he did.

The guards didn't hesitate- they leapt forward, one slamming her spear’s butt into his stomach, folding him over as breath and spittle went flying from his mouth, and the other cracking him over the back of the head so hard that the noise of the impact rang out like a gunshot. It was a blow that would have killed a human or knocked a tree down- damn him, the great mage only stumbled, finally letting go of your hand as he moaned in pain. The sudden release of pressure made you careen backwards; one of the human police caught you, dragging you swiftly backwards. He kicked over one of the tables they'd been sitting at- a heavy, stainless steel piece of outdoor furniture, and dropped you behind it, crouching over you with his gun trained over the top. “You're good, deep breaths.” His voice was calm and steady. “You handled that perfectly, did exactly what you should have. Now stay down out of his sight. He might have other people here.”

Noise came from behind the table- the guards growling and snarling in effort, combined with the Mage’s sudden, roaring fury. Beside your ear, on the officer's hip, a small radio crackled; commands and directions being called out by other law enforcement.

“HOW DID YOU KNOW?! HOW DID YOU SEE-” The arsonist was screaming at the two guards; you could see the reflection of the fight in another table leg next to you. Something about the spears repelled the man, it was obvious; he grabbed one in a white-hot glowing hand, then roared in pain and let go, jerking back- the other guardswoman took advantage of his distraction to strike for his eyes, missing by a breath when he moved supernaturally quickly, and cutting a four inch slice across his face that sprayed blood. It was obvious what their orders were- maim, and if necessary, kill.

Feeling your heart racing so fast that your vision was pulsing with it, you looked around wildly; people were running screaming the other direction, away from the seven of you. Then, distant movement made you jerk your head up; someone on the roof resettled themselves. ‘A sniper…’ you realized, feeling suddenly very strange and distant from yourself. It made sense that they were there, but still…it was so strange, so chilling, to see that far away sparkle of a glass lens focused right on where you were. To be involved in a situation where one would even be present- this was something that happened on TV, in stories! Not in cold, painful, terrifying real life. Then you flinched as something searingly hot, hot like a furnace being opened right in front of your face, flared over the top of the table; you squinted, ducking lower as you cradled your wounded hand to your chest, and watched in the reflection as the man unhinged his jaw like a serpent and spat molten fire toward the two guards and one of the officers. One deflected it somehow, her armor flashing as she protected the human man beside her as well. The other screamed, jumping backwards and struggling to pry off an arm guard as it began to melt. 

Once the two women were clear, a barrage of gunshots began to ring out- the officer's weapon above you was barely a foot from your head, the others a scant few yards across the balcony, and the sheer wall of noise made you cry out, half-falling, half-crawling away. It was excruciatingly loud; so much worse than any movie or TV show had ever shown, worse than going with your dad and his hunting rifle to a firing range as a kid. You truly hadn't known that a firefight would be so loud, so overpoweringly brutally deafening as the noise reflected back from the steel stadium wall beside you. Instantly your ears rang, muffling everything, as the heat of the arsonist’s fire magic begin to fade as briefly as it had flared. Everything had really happened in seconds, but time seemed to stretch as the fight continued, the man taking injury after injury and shrugging them off- you curled up, hiding from the barrage of sound and bursts of heat, terrified for your life.

Then, a sudden movement and sharp clatter next to your head- when had you fallen over onto your side?! -made you wrench away from the source of both, slamming your injured shoulder into a sharp edge on the underside of the heavy table. The pain sharpened you somehow, ripping you out of the daze that the gunshots had put you in; for the first time in your life, you understood what adrenaline was really for. The agony of your shoulder hanging limp vanished; the pain in your hand went as cold as winter water. All you could see was the half-melted blade of a metal spear that had flown over the table and bounced to a stop beside you. It had plainly been heated to the point of failure, then broken or sheared off somehow, with six inches of metal or so between the razor sharp blade and the molten end- the mage bellowed in pain, cursing hysterically. It had cost him severely, it seemed, to touch the weapon long enough to damage it- his voice sounded like it was thousand feet away, barely audible over the squeal in your ears.

The officer above you yelled something; a moment later he was thrown sideways, gripped by a glowing orange hand that bodily tossed him by the kevlar vest under his shirt. The arsonist stepped up, gripping the edge of the overturned table right in front of you, his palm warping the metal with alien strength. His face was furious, his teeth bared, a mask of red blood dripping down over one eye, his black shirt and slacks riddled with holes…he roared something at you with his teeth bared, but you couldn't tell what, and reached further down with an orange glowing hand to grip the lower lip on the underside of the table, the metal bending under his fingers like clay. He was holding his other hand tucked against his chest- it looked oddly gray and lifeless, almost blue in coloration -and so had to do it one-handed, bracing the steel against his arm and plainly planning to either throw the whole thing aside or smash it into you like a baseball bat. As you stared up at him, unable to breathe, you saw an orange glow so bright that it shined through his shirt rising in his chest, up through the cartiledge of his throat, highlighting his ribs...his collar bones...his hyoid...

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With a stadium-piercing scream of abject fear and outrage that came from a place within you that you didn't recognize, unsure what else to do but knowing- truly knowing, in that moment- that if you didn't do something you were absolutely going to die to fire, and ruin, and hell...

...you gripped the magically poisonous spearhead beside you in your wounded hand, spun on your knees, and slammed the entire thing with truly all of your strength and weight through his uninjured wrist. 

The unfamiliar magical metal of it cut through flesh and stainless steel alike like butter, not stopping until the cross-guard was lodged flush against his skin, pinning his limb to the table itself in a horrific injury that instantly began to pour blood. It was the smoothest, most effortless-feeling action you'd ever taken in your life; that same cold tunnel vision made you throw yourself backwards, reacting before you knew what you were reacting to, crabwalking awkwardly on one elbow and both feet as the arsonist moaned in agony and spat a spray of molten magic at where you'd been not a moment before. But the fire magic was without any real focus or finesse; seemingly, the pain was too extreme. He tried to pull the weapon free, but his other hand didn't seem to want to work right; black lines crawled up his arm spreading from the spearhead itself like poisonous veins, racing faster and faster as that hand too faded to a dull gray-

One loud !crack ! echoed from a far away rooftop…and you watched with sudden, vicious shock and satisfaction as a tiny bloom of red appeared on the man's forehead, practically throwing him backwards with the impact. His eyes went glazed- his whole body jerked, spasming against the blade keeping him pinned down toward you...and then he began to fall forward over the table, his arms and legs scrambling in a disorganized, jerking dance like a pinned beetle.

“-him! Before he can go back, before he can respawn, kill him now!!! Please, fuck! Do it-” Who was that screaming, who was yelling for someone to kill the demon before he could activate his fail-safe, his horrible magical gift? You could see the other three officers- two were still standing, frantically reloading their weapons, and the third, thrown one that was being guarded by the wounded Queensguard…where was the other…?

In a brilliant flash of orange light, the man's body disappeared…and a spear held by two gauntleted hands impacted where his head would have been not even a split second later, the other Queensguard screaming in battlefury that he'd escaped as her powerful blow cut the thick, solid steel table cleanly in half. She landed in a crouch, ripped off her helmet- beneath, a black Jaguar woman screamed again in rage, sweat pouring down her feline features.

“-NO!” Oh. That strange, distant part of your mind realized it was you who'd been yelling, yelling for someone to kill the piece of shit before he escaped. “NO! NO!” You scrambled to your feet, dragging yourself upright on a nearby table. Your hearing was beginning to recover some- you could hear the sound of a panicking crowd, of more shouting voices getting closer. “He was RIGHT HERE, RIGHT HERE!”  Tears, not of fear or anguish, but of fury began to fall down your cheeks; tears that you saw mirrored on the other woman's face as she pulled her spear free and rammed it down again into the cement a second time, then a third, her lips peeled back to show her brilliantly white teeth as huge flurries of magical sparks flew from the metal's impacts. Despite the roar of noise all around the stadium, the six of you stood then in a pocket of silent stillness for a minute or two. Your voice had given out on a sob of outrage, and the others said nothing. Just stared at the ground as you did. 

Two blue arms came into your view; before you could so much as fight her, Undyne wrapped one arm around you, one arm around your shoulder, and yanked upwards. The noise that left your throat as your shoulder popped back into place was inhuman, but the relief that followed bloomed through you. She held you at arms length for a second, staring at you with an unreadable look in her eye, then said something-

“What?!” You couldn't make out her words, it was still like you were listening from underwater. She tried again, then gave up…and then the woman did the oddest thing. Reaching up, she gripped you by the back of the head for a moment and crashed her forehead into yours, pressing there as she stared into your eyes. The pain felt good, grounding. It gave you something else to feel besides the cold numbness that was beginning to trickle out of your hands and feet, and the horrible muffled squeal in your ears as your hearing began to come back. After a few seconds like that she released you, and you watched dully as she walked over to the other two guards, doing the same to them both after she pulled the one woman- a Leopard, you could see that now since she’d also ripped her helm off -then the Jaguar, to their feet. They'd both knelt down to examine the bisected table ten feet from you, sprinkling vials of a glimmering red powder over the spot where the arsonist had vanished, the Jaguar still snarling with every breath. 

One of the officers walked up to you, gesturing at his own ears. Guessing at what he was asking, you nodded, and he made a contrite, frustrated face. A shrug between the two of you acted as an apology and an acceptance in one -he couldn't help that you'd been so close as his partner had fired, and you didn't blame any of them for trying to kill the man with the tools they'd had on hand. You just prayed your hearing would recover. Frantic movement made all of you turn- more guards and officers alike approached, led at the run by King Asgore and Prince Asriel. Asriel exchanged brief words with Undyne, who pointed at you. He turned, and gestured to his ears- you nodded, feeling increasingly unsteady on your feet. The young royal walked you backwards some twenty-odd feet, until the backs of your knees hit a padded bench that was outside of the beer garden’s bar shack. Once you sat down, your teeth began to chatter- he put gentle paws on either side of your head, and a feeling like warm, trickling water filled your ears.

The wall of sound that hit you all of a sudden was deafening, though it was a relief beyond words that the horrible, muffled whine stopped. He kept his paws there, letting you adjust to the sound of the tragedy’s aftermath for a moment…then glanced down and hissed, baring his fangs at what he saw. You started to look to see what he did, but then pure, radiant relief filled your heart, distracting you- Papyrus came into view, dodging people and doing more than a little shoving as he scanned for you with a panicked expression. The love in his eyes when he finally spotted you and Asriel nearly made you tear up again, so palpable and real was it…but when he tried to come close, Undyne cut him off, shaking her head when he fought her and towing him over to look at something near the table. Something that glittered blood-red there. 

“You do me a favor and keep looking right up at them,” Asriel murmured. “Do not look down at what I'm doing. Keep your eyes up.” 

Of course, every instinct in you yearned to immediately look down- you fought it, wincing as pain suddenly shot through your injured hand. “Yeah, I know. But that's a good thing, it means the nerves are growing back. Bear with me here, I have to work in layers. Vicious little bitch, I bet the fucker didn't expect that at all from you.” The prince sounded wildly proud. “You did such a good job, I hope to god someone caught that on camera.”

You frowned, blinking- there was so much happening all around you, it felt like a flood of people had arrived on the scene. “W-what?” 

“You scared him.” Asriel looked up into your eye for a moment, and his red irises were as cold and old as death- a ghost's eyes, in the body of a young man. You swore, seeing them that close, that the scarlet red coloration was lobed slightly, not perfectly round like an iris should be. Lobed like…like a flower. “You scared the fuck out of him. I could smell it, even from halfway to that hotdog place there, running all out.” He jerked his head to indicate the last food stand under the stadium roof, some two hundred feet away from where the two of you were. “He tried all of that to intimidate you and what did you do, right as he had you cornered? You put a coldiron blade through him- and I don't even know what'll happen to him now thanks to that. I doubt respawn can just fix a wound like that in a magical creature. If you were scared, you didn't show it. And that scared him.” 

“I'm angry.” You were surprised that your voice was so steady, with so many conflicting emotions warring within you. “He destroyed my mall. He tried to get into my house. He's burning things and trying to kill people I care about, and I want him dead. Of course I was scared, your hig-” 

“Just Asriel.”  

“...Asriel. Of course I was fucking scared.” You clenched your other fist. “But I'm angry now. I’ve been angry. I can't do anything to stop him, and he's destroying everything, and…and…” 

“Oh, we have to get you into combat training.” Asriel sounded cruelly amused. “Get a weapon in those pretty little hands, and next time you can paint his brains all over the pavement before he has time to run away again.” One last sudden, sharp flash of pain made you jump- you looked down despite his prior warning. The back of your hand was scarred, the flesh pink, shiny and twisted, newly grown. “Had to put the skin over it fast,” he murmured, grimacing as you gasped at the sight. “Or else infection can set in, and you’d lose it- I don't think surgery would have saved it after he…well. It's done now. It'll look better with time, and there's creams and patches that can help smooth it out…I'm sorry. He…he really got you there. There's exercises to keep it from getting tight, I'll make sure you get those.” 

One scarred hand- ugly, yes, but seemingly functional as you flexed your fingers - in exchange for surviving an encounter with a magically-gifted madman? Not a bad trade. You'd be upset about it later, you decided- weariness was starting to catch up to you, making you sag backwards against the building. Asriel forced a bottle of water out of the cowering man within before he fled, then helped you take a drink. “Here.”

The cluster of people was only growing, as more and more human law enforcement arrived on the scene. Undyne and Asgore were arguing with some of the humans…but you noticed that Papyrus wasn't talking to anyone there at all, for all that they seemed to keep trying to pull him into their discussion. He was staring at the overturned, bisected table, where a nine inch spearhead had been sunk into the thick metal tabletop and was still dripping with red blood…and then, blinking, he looked up at you. 

In the center of your chest, in the place you'd started to think of as Papyrus's, hot, vicious pride bloomed as he held your eye with his own . Pride, yes, and pure admiration…and then, a flare of unexpected desire. It felt so good, despite everything that had happened, that your man was proud of you. That he approved of what you'd done…and, seemingly, was more than a little hot and bothered about it. Was that perverse of the two of you? Maybe, but you didn't care. You'd survived a magic gun fight for fucks sake, you were allowed to like that your boyfriend thought your moment of screaming violence was hot. 

Someone called Asriel- he squeezed your newly reset shoulder, soothing any lingering ache there, then turned and walked toward the crowd…but the moment Papyrus started toward you, two police officers got in his way. He glared at both of them so sharply that you wondered if your man would shove past the two fuckers, but he gathered himself again and waited, hanging back, his fists clenched at his sides.

They took your statement, asking over and over for the same information…after the third iteration, for which they'd been joined by a Monster guard asking the same questions, you snarled at all of them in annoyance and exhaustion. “ENOUGH! Either you have it or you don't at this point, enough! Go away! I'm hurt, and I'm absolutely freaked the fuck out, and I don't want to keep going over it! I told you everything that I remember him saying, now leave me alone!” 

Another burst of pride, flaring behind your sternum- he watched you with sharp attentiveness, the lights of his eyes laser-sharp pin pricks . The Monster investigator, a being made seemingly out of yarn and buttons, lingered for a moment as the two others sulkily gave up and faded back into the crowd of other law enforcement.

“Are you alright?” Their voice was soft, oddly gentle for what must have been an unhappy career- it drew your attention. “You did well.” 

“Not well enough.” You grit the world out through your clenched teeth, far past the point of caring about politeness. "Not fucking well enough.” 

They grimaced. “I guess it would be…foolish, then, to ask if you’re hurt, if you feel-”

A polite, skeletal hand took them by the shoulder, steering them gently back a bit. “I'M SURE SHE'S FELT BETTER.” Your man had a fake, polite smile plastered across his features. “SO…IF YOU DON'T MIND?”

The other Monster- Cybil, the badge on their shirt said, hesitated…then nodded. He stepped back awkwardly, and you lost track of where he went as your lovers warm arms came around you. Stupidly, the second Papyrus pulled you against his chest, bending low to bundle you in, you began to cry your fucking eyes out. He stayed still, one large hand wrapped around the back of your head, one warmly between your shoulders, as you sobbed into his bright, floral sweatshirt. “I d-dont want you to think I'm, like, upset by the dying and all, because I'm really not! Papyrus I'm so angry, we were so close, I…I…”

He shook his head, his chin moving back and forth on top of your head. “YOU…YOU WERE PERFECT. IT’S OKAY TO FREAK OUT AFTER THE EMERGENCY IS OVER WITH. THE BAD THING IS WHEN PEOPLE FREAK OUT DURING ONE. NO ONE WOULD BE SURPRISED THAT YOU'RE ANGRY, BUNNY. NO ONE.” 

“We were so close.” You whispered it through your clenched teeth into his shoulder, fighting the tremble in your chin, your voice cracking on angry,  overwhelmed tears. “So close. He knows where we live baby, he tried to get to our house, he…”

“I HEARD.” He'd been listening closely as the investigators questioned you. “I KNOW. HE TRIED SOMETHING THE OTHER NIGHT, TOO. SOMETHING FROM A DISTANCE. REMEMBER THE CHARM?” 

Nodding, you leaned back a little so you could look up at him. “Is that why he said he couldn't…couldn’t get close?”

“AH…NO.” He let go of you with one hand to scratch the back of his neck, suddenly looking a bit…embarrassed, oddly. “I…DID A THING. IT'S HARD TO EXPLAIN. WE NEED TO GET A PERMANENT SPELLNET FOR THE HOUSE IF HE'S STARTING TO LEARN HOW TO THROW CURSES FROM A DISTANCE, A STRONG ONE. MAYBE FRISK CAN MAKE IT, NOW THAT THEY HAVE HELP…” His voice petered off as he stared over you for a moment, thinking. 

Everything slowed to a crawl then, just as you'd started to learn- through miserable experience- happened during every crisis. Papyrus went and got stadium food from one of the stands, vaulting easily over the counter and making things for you since no employees were still there to help. He came back at the trot with a chicken salad sandwich and a bag of chips, sitting beside you on the bench with a protective arm over your shoulders. As you ate, you noticed for the first time that the rain had reverted to the same, light mist that had fallen since Thursday night. You were shielded under the little roof around the beer garden's shack, but still…it was interesting. 

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, flicking a few crumbs from your fingertips and wincing at the tenderness in your newly-healed hand (god, how bad had it been? ), you glanced over at your man. “Py? Dumb question. Is the rain like, magic?”

He nodded, scanning the crowd closely, his voice quiet. “YUP. THERE'S…WELL, IT'S NOT MY PLACE TO SAY MUCH YET. BASICALLY, FRISK GOT SOME HELP.”

It took a moment for the implication to hit you. “Oh…oh shit, other…other mages?” 

“SHHHHH. IT'S A SECRET.” He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring the building behind the two of you was empty. The man inside had long since ran away, and you saw your partner scan for cameras too. “BUT YES. THEY'RE HELPING WITH EVERYTHING, QUIETLY. THAT’S ONE OF THE THINGS THEY'RE DOING. IT’S LIKE…A SURVEILLANCE SPELL. KINDA COOL ACTUALLY, HEH…” Then he leaned over, his lips an inch away from your ear. “YOU LOOKED VERY COOL AND HOT, BY THE WAY. I WAS SO SCARED FOR YOU, AND THEN YOU GOT UP AND STABBED HIM. I'M VERY PROUD.”

In the distance, someone was shouting hoarsely, their voice rising as they argued with the people around them. You glanced around, then winced- Frisk had shown up and was furious , smacking their fist down into their palm as they wheeled in place, berating the two Queensguards who'd been involved in the fight. 

“-her so she could do this! I worked so hard to make it so she'd be exactly where she needed to be, so she'd pin him down, and you STILL MISSED HIM!” They whirled, shaking one of the guards as she knelt to the mage, shame on her face. “Do you know what this COST me to do?! Do you know what it took to-” Their voice broke, making them cough harshly. Asriel was at their side in an instant, a hand on their back.

Blinking at their words for a moment, you looked at Papyrus, then down at your wrist…where Frisk's woven ruby bracelet still rested against your skin. And you'd swear, on your Soul, that a last, tiny bit of red glow within it disappeared. 

(Maybe, you realized with an odd feeling of sudden entrapment, the bracelets did more than the young Great Mage said they did.)

Undyne shoved Frisk back from the guard they were berating; she wasn't as intimidated by them as most of the other Monster citizens were. “Knock it off! She did her best! You can't ask for more-”

“I will ask for more.” The mages voice was a hiss of outrage. “If your best isn't good enough, then be better. Get better. Do you know how hard this was to buy us? How many pieces had to come together for this to work? I don't see another opportunity, one doesn't happen. I've gone months ahead Undyne, we-”

She clapped a hand over their mouth, her eyes blazing. “Not. another. word . here. Get control of yourself, remember where you are. ”

Papyrus hummed deep in his throat, glancing around- you looked too, but thankfully no one else nearby seemingly had heard the short outburst. An outburst with implications that, tiredly, you thought you just couldn't deal with in that moment. The crowd of human law enforcement had moved away with Asgore, leaving Asriel, Frisk, Undyne, and the two guards in an empty space. Still, despite yourself, you swore under your breath, hearing yet struggling to comprehend what Frisk had just said. 

And then Sans arrived. 

Usually, the man liked to blink into existence somewhere hidden, then wander out as if he’d been behind a building or around a corner all along. Not this time. He burst into reality barely five feet away from Frisk, his eyes haggard, his clothing mussed…and all fucking hell broke loose. 

“the fuck is wrong with you?! we had a deal! you’d tell me if-”

“-that I didn't have time ! I warned you when I could- it's not my fault you don't remember every-”

“i thought i was going insane, do you know what it fucking feels like to have that happen over and over again? just like before? i thought we had these stupid bracelets for a reason, why did we even both-”

“-’m sorry that I can't always make shit comfortable for you, I didn't even have time to activate them! And you know, it's not my fault he didn't finish the job! He’s the one that left you half-baked, but no, it's my fault for trying to do what I can to fix-”

Papyrus stood, just as Undyne roared, “ENOUGH!”, shoving both of them back from each other. You'd been watching the two, your heart pounding as Frisk and Sans screamed in each other's faces- your man put a gentle hand on your shoulder, distracting you as you raced to put the pieces together in your mind. “COME ON, WE’RE LEAVING. LET THEM ARGUE BY THEMSELVES.” 

Trembling, you leaned on him as he stood up, expecting to have to make the long walk out the front door of the stadium, through the mass of people…Papyrus led you to the edge of the balcony next to a railing there, then murmured, “CLOSE YOUR EYES. IT'LL BE SPOOKY OTHERWISE.”

Confused, you did as he asked… and squeaked as he pulled you up into his arms, then seemingly stepped up onto something…before stepping down something. It felt bizarrely like he was carrying you down a staircase, yet when he set you back down again on solid ground, telling you to open your eyes, there was of course nothing like that around you. The two of you now stood below the stadium, right on the edge of the huge parking lot outside. Hanging at least four stories of empty air above you, the concrete balcony rested over the black painted struts of the stadium supports.

Oddly, the screaming argument between Sans and Frisk, despite Undyne's repeated admonishments, had gone silent the moment Papyrus had started doing…whatever he'd done, as if everyone was surprised to see it.

“Papyrus…what the heck?” 

“CAR FIRST. WEIRD MAGIC LATER. ARE YOU OKAY TO WALK?” 

“I think so, at least a little bit.” You stared down at the damp concrete for a moment. “I'm scared, Py, not of the man exactly…but you mentioned curses, I…”

“I'VE GOT IT.” He led you to his car, tucking you in and closing the door, then standing outside on the phone for a few minutes. For your part, you reached back and dragged one of his other sweatshirts off the back seat, using it like a blanket and hiding your face inside. 

When he got in beside you, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead through the sweatshirt. “FRISK IS BEING STUPID, BUT UNDYNE SAYS SHE'LL ASK JAMES AND ASRIEL. JAMES IS VERY NICE.” 

Embarrassingly, since you'd been pretty damn capable and attentive up until that point, you either dozed off an exhaustion or simply zoned out worse than you ever had in your life before. You knew Papyrus stopped at a side parking lot where the royals had parked, getting out and talking to somebody there for a while. The other man's voice was still hard to make out despite the healing the prince had done on you, but he had a nice accent at least.

Your partner woke you gently some time later, helping you out of the car and into your house- he went back out for an hour or so though, walking from your front yard to your little backyard again and again, running his hand along the brickwork as he stared into the distance. You swore you felt something hum in your Soul, reacting to whatever he was doing- he’d stopped on the way home too, seemingly, for a near constant confetti of small paper squares trailed from his other hand, each painted with a tiny symbol. When he came back in, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and Cheese’s as the two of you huddled on the couch, then went to the refrigerator and wolfed a six quart bowl of potato salad like his life depended on it. You watched, exhausted but bemused, as he moved on to an entire half of a lasagna pan cold, then two bowls of cereal, talking on the phone all the while. It was obvious that whatever he'd been doing outside, it had cost him serious magic…but you were so damn tired and frustrated with the whole stupid, hateful situation that you couldn’t find the energy to care, just then.

Finally, he came back out to you, sighing. “JAMES DOESN’T KNOW THE SPELLNET RITE, BUT ASRIEL CAN WALK HIM THROUGH IT. THEY SHALL TRY TO FINISH IT BY TOMORROW. HER MAJESTY SENT FRISK AND SANS TO THEIR ROOMS, SO NEITHER OF THEM WILL BE ANY USE AT ALL UNTIL THEY'RE DONE SULKING. I DID SOME…MAGIC, TO THE HOUSE. YOU SHOULD BE SAFE TONIGHT FROM NEARLY ANYTHING.”

You bit your lip, trying to decide if this was truly something you wanted to know…but it wasn't in your nature to willingly stay in the dark. “Sans has weird magic with time too, doesn't he? Just like Frisk?”

He see-sawed his hand in the air, collapsing into the armchair across from you. “OUR BROTHER HAD WEIRD MAGIC WITH TIME AND SPACE, DIMENSIONAL MAGIC. SANS…INHERITED A LITTLE OF THAT, THE TIME SIDE. BUT IT DIDN'T FINISH.” Papyrus sighed gustily. “HE KNOWS SOMETHING IS WRONG- HE KNOWS SOMETHING IS HAPPENING AND REPEATING- BUT ONLY REMEMBERS FLASHES OF IT. IT STILL MAKES HIM VERY ESOTERIC AND DANGEROUS AND SPOOKY. BUT…PEOPLE ONLY SEE THE DANGEROUS AND SPOOKY, AND DON'T STOP TO WONDER JUST HOW BAD IT WOULD BE TO HAVE THAT HALF…KNOWING.”

It was…an unimaginable burden. And it proved something else, too. “...god above, Frisk wasn't lying. They went forward in time, well…no, I guess they let time pass normally for them, then rewound it, probably more than once from how he reacted and what they said. No…no, that isn't right either…they reverted back to a SAVE point…”

You looked up at him, inwardly proud of how impressed he looked at your deduction. “...something terrible must have happened to me, all those other times. They didn't revert because they were trying to save me, though I'm grateful that they did. They reverted until they found a world where I attacked him back, taking him off guard…buying a chance for everyone else to…to kill him…oh god.” Almost subconsciously, you raised a hand and pressed it to your heart- were you imagining that strange, distant chill? Were you just inventing the sensation of dying again and again, averted as a miracle worker fished for the one chance of success in a thousand scenarios? “Jesus christ, we’re living in a fucking video game Papyrus, and I’m just a normal village person. What’s…going to happen to me next time? What if Frisk isn’t able to…to…”

Your partner didn't answer you for a moment, but just stared down at the carpet. When he did at last, his voice was soft, strained. “I…I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT. I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT HOW MANY WORLDS THERE ARE WHERE I LOST YOU…WHERE I'M ALONE AGAIN.” Then he winced. “UGH, I’M SORRY, THAT SOUNDS SO SELFISH, I-”

You stood up, depositing Cheese gently on the couch, then went over and used your knee to push his legs together before settling down into his slim lap, straddling your partner's thighs and curling in against his chest as you interrupted him. The misting rain made the evening outside the windows dim and gray.

“...have I ever told you how nice and easy it is to do this with you? I don't feel like I have to do a split every time.”

He smiled at that, letting his head fall to rest against the soft side of the chair while he reached down and popped the lever that raised the leg rest. “PROBABLY EVERY TIME, YES. BUT I'M VERY GOOD AT ACCEPTING COMPLIMENTS, SO PLEASE DON'T FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULDN'T REPEAT IT.” It was fifty-fifty whether he used his magic to pad his body for you so you weren't essentially kneeling over him without support, or if he just used a pillow- he opted for a pillow that time, summoning it over with a spectral orange hand and settling it under your rump once you rose up a few inches. “I REALLY… REALLY …AM PROUD OF YOU. EVEN IF FRISK WAS DOING FRISK THINGS TO GIVE YOU THE OPPORTUNITY, IT DOESN’T MATTER. YOU CHOSE TO DEFEND YOURSELF, AND THAT'S VERY BADASS AND COOL.” He ran a hand down your back. “I THINK SOMETIMES PEOPLE FORGET THAT. THEY GIVE FRISK ALL THE CREDIT, BUT THEY STILL HAD TO DO THE THING. FRISK JUST…MAKES AN OPPORTUNITY WHERE MAYBE THERE WASN'T ONE BEFORE.”

You touched a finger to the oddly-heavy bracelets you both wore, it's raw ruby stone glistening almost wetly. “You know…maybe if I was younger, I'd have gotten all offended about free will and whatever. But now? I'm just grateful that they could help. I'll take all the help I can get.”

“PROBABLY THE BEST WAY TO HANDLE IT.” As he always did the second it was within reach, Papyrus began playing with your hair- a source of endless fascination for Skeletons, apparently- and checked his phone again with his other hand. “OH GOOD. ASRIEL JUST HAS TO BUY YARN SOMEWHERE AND FIND HIS BIG CROCHET HOOK, AND HE’LL START MAKING THE NET. FRISK UH…WENT SOMEWHERE ELSE FOR A LITTLE WHILE.”

“Sans?”

“STILL AT HOME SULKING I’D ASSUME, WHERE THE QUEEN SENT HIM.”

You nodded, snuggling into his chest…and then what he said made you grin, sitting back up slightly. “Wait….Prince Asriel's crochet hook?” 

Papyrus smirked. “WELL, IF QUEEN TORIEL ISN'T HOME TO MAKE IT, SOMEONE HAS TO.” He squirmed a little, chuckling, as you nosed into his collarbone. “STOP THAT, I'M TRYING TO BE VERY APPROPRIATE AND POLITE AND DECENT TO MY POOR, TRAUMATIZED GIRLFRIEND.”

“I just survived a gunfight and stabbed a wannabe murderer in his fucking arm.” You caught his eye, remembering how he'd reacted earlier, that inner burst of want after seeing the proof that you'd fought back. “Shut up and kiss me.”

He murmured your name, crushed you to himself with his arms around you, and kissed you like his life depended on it. 

Late that night…

Papyrus, like a big old dummy, like the biggest of dummies- the kind he would thoroughly lecture on not taking responsibility for other people's actions - blamed himself as he walked to his car.

He should have gotten up with you.

He should have watched where you and the human woman went. 

He should have known (somehow) that something bad was going to happen.

...

Stars in the sky, but the way you'd screamed when the demon-man had stood over you, the way the sound had carried like a siren...

...

The moment the gunfire started, Papyrus had crossed the green in seconds, clearing ten rows of stadium seats in each huge leap, jumping off of arm rests and screaming, panicking humans, searching frantically for you in the huge place once he crested the top. The crowd had pressed him, an animal made of a thousands of panicking bodies- your panic, your fear, had somehow broken through his very Soul, covering the large distance between the two of you and nearly blinding him with terror for your life as he tried to find you and could not.

And then, from across the great, wide angle that made up the two longest sides of the stadium, he'd watched you fight back, standing on top of a random table to get a better view over the sea of screaming, fleeing humans. Had seen you far in the distance, heard that terrible scream, felt it wrench him inside, trying to call on him, trying to plead for help, for anything.

God the pride. The terror, but the pride.

But...

You shouldn't have had to fight in the first place.

There was a great mage on the loose, a great mage that had hunted Papyrus’s woman like a fucking predator in the field, and he hadn’t done jack shit about it. It went against his very nature, allowing an untrusted mage to be so close to a person he loved. And didn’t that add another layer to it all? The frustration. The unspoken expectation that he had for himself. The big rotten secret, that he and his brother didn't talk about, because some stuff just didn’t need discussed…and because it had brought their oldest brother more grief than anyone could possibly imagine. Yes yes, the fancy-shmancy secret that wasn't really a secret. He and Sans were underbaked Boss Monsters. Whoopee.

Big whup.

It had never in his life really mattered to Papyrus until now.

He pulled that little book out again, leafing through it until he found the section his brother had read aloud before. There was some comfort in hearing their brother's inflection in the words…but even more in what he'd written.

“...in matters of the elevated saffron mage, there is only one logical conclusion that I can draw. Of the seven great commands that legends claim were gifted to the enlightened human bloodlines, the most fitting is ‘respawn’. Much as a saffron Perpetual preserves the lives of those around them by enlightening locations, granting sentience and awareness to the spirits of the physical domain in order to safeguard those under their roof…”

He'd done it already- twice, in fact. Following something that was one percent barely remembered lessons at Gaster's side and ninety-nine percent instinct, he'd done something to your house that could, per the arsonist himself, repel the malevolent intent of a true great mage. Papyrus hadn't allowed himself to feel proud or excited about it yet- there'd be time for that, when the man who'd laid his hands on his partner was imprisoned or…or stopped. 

But it wasn't enough. No one was doing enough.

...

An idea had struck him as he'd laid beside you in bed, sleepless and berating himself. Now, he sat the little book in the passengers side of his car, and started the engine.

He went home, first. Sans was sitting in the living room, staring at the dark TV with no expression at all. After a few minutes though, he did raise a hand to return Papyrus’s limp high five. 

"...she okay on her own?"

'THREE HUNDRED SPELL CHARMS IN A CIRCLE AROUND THE HOUSE. HE AND HIS PEOPLE CAN'T GET CLOSE, EITHER...AND IT SHOULD TAKE SOME TIME FOR HIM TO WAKE BACK UP, RIGHT? I HAVE SOMETHING I NEED TO DO."

"...good thinking, paps." Sans fell silent again.

“...EVERYTHING IS BAD RIGHT NOW.”

His brother nodded, looking so weary that he could hardly keep his head up.

“BUT IT WON'T BE FOREVER.” He leaned down and hugged him hard, ignoring Sans’ half-hearted, bitching groan. “NO ONE BLAMES YOU FOR BEING UPSET. OR AT LEAST THEY SHOULDN'T. BUT YOU CAN'T BLAME FRISK, EITHER. THEY LOVE YOU, AND THEY’RE DOING THEIR BEST. THEY’RE PROBABLY VERY SCARED.”

“...i know that.” 

“THEY CAN ONLY USE THE TOOLS THEY WERE GIVEN.”

“i know that.”

Papyrus waited…

Sans growled in his throat, reaching over and snatching his phone off the cushion beside him. A phone, Papyrus had noticed, that had a half-typed message sitting unsent to a certain young mage. “fucks sake, fine. so, what are you doing here? it's three in the morning, what can ya possibly need to do?” He started typing out the rest of the message.

“PICKING SOMETHING UP…THEN GOING FOR A DRIVE AROUND TOWN.” Papyrus said it with extreme nonchalance…which drew Sans like a shark to blood. 

“...want some company?” 

Chapter Text

The two brothers sat in silence as Papyrus drove through the light rain, listening to whatever human nonsense Sans had playing on the radio. He was texting someone- Frisk, judging by the speed of the replies (the kid was a speed demon with their thumbs). Meanwhile, Papyrus stared out at Ebott, looking through James’ raindrops that slowly condensed there as he headed out of the city. The person he was looking for…she didn't even open for business until midnight. By waiting until near four in the morning to leave from their house, he hoped they'd be her only customers present.

The police, the Feds, hell, even the Royal Guards…they were all targeting known crime areas. Hanging out in unmarked cars and vans on problematic roads and the crappier parts of town, catching mice in nets made for rats and using their usual informants. The drug scene in Ebott might not recover for years, but they weren't catching anyone that really mattered. Not for the arsonist case, anyway.

Rather predictably, Papyrus thought to himself, human magic made for the emboldening and organization of troops also apparently lent itself quite well to controlling those troops, at least to the point that they seemed to get away with all sorts of shit in town without so much as a peep from the locals- graffiti, small building fires, robberies. And he didn't know how tight the arsonist’s grip was on his followers either, metaphysically. But it was obviously enough to keep them out of trouble, when Asgore had always taught that usually the type of personality drawn to terrorism would be unable to resist causing a ruckus in one way or another. It was how several domestic and foreign human terrorists had been caught over the years- their lackeys got up to ‘fun’ that they shouldn't have, and the powers that be were able to follow the trail of that fun right back to the nest. He had a sourceless suspicion that things wouldn't go that way, not this time. Not with an orange great mage as a leader. 

So instead, Papyrus was going to a better set of eyes. Ones that saw almost everything. 

Sans swore softly under his breath beside him, reading something Frisk had just sent. “HM?” 

“the guard lady who’d been with your girl? dead. internal injuries, they took her straight to a human hospital instead of one of ours. same with two humans working at a delivery gate on the side of the stadium, they just found them. the fucker dropped their bodies in bushes, some cleaning staff found them…‘cause street dogs wouldn't leave the spot alone. ” 

Sighing, Papyrus bit back the clutching grip of sadness that squeezed his Soul at those words- there'd be time for that later. He didn't know what to say…so instead, he sped up. The warehouse he pulled up to some half an hour later was nondescript, identical to the twelve or so equally large buildings on either side. Sans shot him an odd look but didn't say anything, following his brother as Papyrus got out, locking his car and walking up to the dark, rusted door. It was unlocked, as it always was.

He'd only ever accompanied Asriel twice to this particular place over the past few years, and the prince had told him, on the phone earlier, that the person within had absolutely refused to help with the situation within the city, that he'd visited three times trying in the last two weeks. 

That was going to change.

With a hand on the doorknob, he turned to his brother. Sans stood easily, his hands in his pockets.

“WE CAN'T BE GOOD PEOPLE IN HERE.” 

He cocked a brow. 

“THIS HUMAN…HAS WAYS OF LEARNING ALMOST ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN THIS ENTIRE CITY. SHE KNOWS WHERE PEOPLE WILL BE, WHAT THEY’RE DOING, BEFORE ANYONE ELSE. BUT SHE REFUSED TO HELP WITH THE ARSONIST. COMPLETELY. SAID SHE WOULDN'T TOUCH THE PROBLEM, EVEN WHEN ASRIEL OFFERED HER ANYTHING SHE WANTED. A FORTUNE. A PALACE. A NEW LIFE FREAKING ANYWHERE. HE ASKED AS ‘NICELY’ AS HE COULD.” 

Realization came into Sans’ eyes. “but we're not here to ask nicely.” It wasn't a question, though the man had about a hundred for his brother, seeing how familiar he was with the place. It also answered a few more questions that had quietly circulated through Sans’ mind for years, too, or at least gave him a big piece of the puzzle. He'd never quite been sure what Papyrus had gone and spent his nights on the surface doing, but what he'd suspected would take a level of organization and visibility in the city that most common street dipshits couldn't manage. Here was, perhaps, an explanation.

“NO. I'M AFRAID WE CAN'T BE NICE AT ALL. SHE HAS ARMED GUARDS, BY THE WAY.” Papyrus pushed open the door, the hinges of which were completely silent despite looking like the entire thing was made out of rust, and Sans had to bite back a little grin as he followed him. When the barrier had broken, and those who'd known him had started to remember bits and pieces of their older brother, everyone had sort of…defaulted to believing that Sans would take Gaster’s place in the world, scientifically and in reputation. 

The chill in Papyrus’s eyes told him that, at least for the later half, they were all dead wrong. The younger man had just never found something worth protecting before. 

The cavernous interior of the warehouse was packed floor to ceiling in building materials and electrical supplies, all of it wrapped in cling wrap on the floor or sitting in precarious piles on palettes loaded onto massive, forty-foot shelving units made of rusted steel beams. It was a dark maze, crowded to the point of almost being untraversable…but few things were too dark for the magical sight of Skeletons. The dim fairy lights of their eyes illuminated thick dust floating in the air, casting creepy, barely-visible shadows off of huge reels of cable and stacks of plywood. Sans followed his brother as he navigated a barely-visible path through the hoard, occasionally simply waiting, then flickering ahead a few dozen feet rather than step over dangerous piles of this and that. 

Finally they reached the back wall, where a series of broken windows and damaged doors must have once led to offices. If the door out front had looked half-abandoned, then the one Papyrus stopped in front of was positively derelict- the wire-enforced frosted glass window was cracked, the paint having completely peeled off of the steel. The handle hung broken, and the entire thing was at an angle in the frame, as if inoperable. 

But…Sans noticed, with a tiny hum of interest, there was a barely visible red glow high in rafters above the door, the tell-tale ring of an infrared camera. In fact, as he darkened his eye-lights so whoever was watching through those cameras couldn't see where he looked, there were dozens of them. He could see them now, ringing the building as far back as he could see without turning to make it obvious. The distance, and the slight, dirty light coming in from a few high, filthy windows on the far wall, would make them absolutely impossible for a human to see. 

Interesting.

Papyrus stepped up to the door, raised a hand, and knocked in a specific pattern. For at least a good twenty minutes, nothing happened…but his brother didn't react, so Sans didn't either. He just relaxed back against a pile of some garbage or another, and waited. 

After a long, long time, a single, tiny sliding door opened in the wall twenty feet to their right- the mail slot for the factory that had once been in the place, perhaps. Papyrus walked down and slid a stack of human currency from his pocket, thick enough to make Sans whistle near-silently. He pushed it into the slot, which snapped closed again. 

A minute or so later, the entire doorway, frame and all, slid to the left into the wall, showing that it had been backed by a solid wall of very much not rusted steel. 

“COME ON.” Papyrus walked in, and, in lieu of a greeting, casually flicked his fingers. The human inside, a large man with a rifle held easily in his hands, was slammed sideways into the wall of the hallway within by a wave of bones before he could do more than take a breath, bones that broke up through the floor and smeared the poor fucker against the concrete. He slumped…but a quick glance confirmed he was still breathing. Papyrus reached down, took the rifle, and bent the barrel halfway down. Then took the mechanism in both hands and squeezed it like he was cracking a walnut. The metal screeched as it crumpled like wet cardboard; Sans, for his part, glanced up and watched as three additional cameras on the ceiling above turned to track the movement. 

Two more humans came into view, turning a corner down the long hall and yelling in anger- they fired immediately, but their bullets splintered against the blue bone barrier that faded into view at Sans’ silent command. The projectiles had been moving far too quickly to be able to pass through the magic- the faster a thing moved, the more easily it was destroyed by a blue spell. The two men were lucky that the shrapnel didn't bounce straight back into them…but Sans would openly admit that he was, at heart, a bit of a softy. He'd curved the barrier for them, sending the metal straight into the walls on either side of the two instead. The bright orange bones that bounced down from the ceiling and clocked them both on the heads were much less gentle, though still measured. Papyrus gave the same treatment to their weapons as he had to the other, listening for a moment as the first man he'd knocked out started to come back to groaning wakefulness. Once he began swearing weakly, the taller Skeleton nodded to himself and moved on. Around a corner at the end of the hall were a few comfortable chairs, a side room with a refrigerator and a TV, and another door. This one had no window, and no handle. 

Sound came softly and clearly through some hidden speaker. “This isn't nearly as polite as the last time you visited, my dear boy.” The person was undeniably female, and elderly. Her voice was a rough chicken-scratch against gravel, with more than a little wariness. “Do you know how expensive those gentlemen are? They're going to whine and complain, and I'll have to apologize to their bank accounts.”

Papyrus flashed something from his sweatshirt pocket to the camera above that blank doorway, then leaned a hand on it. The metal creaked. “OPEN UP, PLEASE. OR I'LL HAVE TO LET MYSELF IN.”

“...you young men are always so pushy.” 

Sans called an invisible blue barrier up again, just inside the door, in preparation. A moment later, it opened inward. No bullets or human fighters greeted them, though. Just a warmly lit, homey room full of potted plants under grow lights, a small kitchenette, and an enormous circular desk that was absolutely buried in electronics, computer parts, and quite literally thirty or forty monitors, most of them stacked three high.

And dogs. 

Dozens of dogs, each of them perking up as the door opened. Huge, dark brown or black dogs, the kinds humans kept for police work or personal security. They didn't bark or approach, but they watched with laser-like focus as he and Papyrus walked in. Behind the desk, an older human woman with snow-white frizzy hair and heavy glasses pushed herself back, comfortable in a low-backed desk chair and glaring at the two of them. “You made your damn point, coming in here the way you did. But I know what you want, and my answer is still no. Doesn't matter what you or that prince of yours-” 

An orange-glowing bone speared through the desk, crashing right down through the wood and metal, splintering a keyboard into plastic shrapnel and flinging a mouse into the air. The noise was deafening- every dog began barking hysterically, standing as the woman flinched backwards. The moment she caught her breath and gave a sharp whistle through her lips, though, each one fell silent again. 

“I'M NOT ASKING WHO OR WHERE HE IS. I KNOW YOU PROBABLY DON'T KNOW.” Papyrus said it quietly, not raising his voice at all. “ALL I WANT IS TWO OR THREE OF HIS PEOPLE. HIS REAL PEOPLE, NOT SOME INTERNET RANDOS THAT THINK HE’S COOL. REAL FOLLOWERS, SETTING LITTLE FIRES IN TOWN AND PUTTING GRAFFITI UP TO SUPPORT HIM.” He sat another stack of bills on the table, then, beside it, a pouch that jingled. “FOUR POUNDS OF MONSTER GOLD. A HUMAN COULD DO A LOT WITH THAT, IF A VERY SMART LADY KNEW SOMEONE THAT COULD MELT IT DOWN AND TAKE THE SPELLS OFF OF IT.”

She stared at him, then glanced back at Sans, who gave her a lazy wave. A half-slide through reality flickered him across the room and back, looking, to her eyes at least, like there'd been dozens of him for a moment. “...he'll kill me. You don't know what he's done- they'll be uncovering things for years. I'm already leaving the city- shit!”  

Sans appeared right beside her, leaning in close and spinning her chair with his knee so his empty eyes were an inch away from hers. It was hard to find sympathy for the woman, no matter how scared she was- if she could help with the tragedy at all, then perhaps no one else would have to die. If she’d helped before, maybe no one would have died. “he attacked our royalty. he’s killin’ our folks and yours. you think i give a shit about your life?” Chuckling, he used one hand to turn her chair again, facing her toward her desk and the long magical bone that still pierced it; the woman had frozen, her eyes huge. “you should be more worried about protectin’ it right now, not what-if’s for the future. cause that's how desperate we are. you know what desperate people do?” The enormous, glowing entity that had appeared over his shoulder, hovering in midair and whining softly in its incorporeal throat as it began to gather energy, floated forward until the freezing tip of its snout touched the back of her head.

“I'll never help any of you again,” she whispered, terrified now. “No more fancy cars, no more cleared out cops and scouted roads. No more traffic lights turned right when you need them to be. F-fuck you, threatening me, I-” 

“YOU SAID IT YOURSELF- YOU'RE ALREADY LEAVING TOWN.” Papyrus sounded coldly amused. Sans didn't know if he'd ever heard his brother's voice like that. Distantly, he wondered how much of it was an act, and how much was desperation after what had happened earlier. “EBOTT WILL FIND ANOTHER OPTOMETRIST. THIS IS WHAT YOU DO, RIGHT? PEOPLE PAY FOR YOUR EYES. SO NAMES, LOCATIONS. RIGHT NOW, PLEASE.” He sat a second stack of money down, making his older brother blow out a quiet breath, impressed. Sans had no idea how many tens of thousands of human dollars, perhaps even more, that his brother had spent on this visit, but judging by the thickness and the ‘one hundred' printed on the top, it was an excruciating amount. They weren't suffering for money by any means, but still. “I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT. YOU'RE THE BEST IN THE STATE.” 

A few minutes later, the two of them watched silently as the bank of screens in front of her turned on, loading code and programs that neither could even begun to recognize. It took Sans a moment to figure out what he was looking at…and once he did, he couldn't help but be impressed. Home security cameras, apartment ring cameras, traffic control cameras, business cameras- the city was painted before them in an ever-changing portrait of hacked technology, the woman moving expertly between districts and city blocks, checking inside and outside of countless buildings. Here in her cozy little warehouse, this human had given herself ten-thousand sets of eyes. Eyes that could watch all of Ebott without anyone ever knowing 

“...I'll be out by tomorrow morning,” she muttered, occasionally shooting nervous glances back at the two silent men. “Then you two can enjoy his attention all to yourselves.” 

“already are, sweetheart.” Sans gave her a mirthless smile. “have been for months.” He'd noticed that the woman had seemed to zero in on a particular section of the city, almost circling it from her bizarre, patchwork perspective. It was obvious that she was familiar with the arsonist and his crowd from what she'd already said, and even more obvious, the longer Sans watched now, that she knew where to find them. Her target was on the west side of Ebott, a dozen or so blocks of row homes, bodegas, broken sidewalks, and stacks of garbage- a nest of slum landlords and the poor fuckers forced to live under their purveyance. It was the perfect place for a magically-gifted shit starter to sponsor a crime spree based on racial tension, since it encouraged the denizens to turn against an outside threat rather than each other like they usually did.

Nothing was more unifying, for humanity, than the promise of violence. 

One particular camera view that she kept switching back to was higher and noticeably clearer than the others. Papyrus asked her about it, and she shot him a glare that withered when Sans narrowed his eyes. After a moment's tension, she turned sulkily back to her screens. “...cop cam station, flashes lights if people are speeding and takes photos of their license plates. Records the area too. They put ‘em in places that need the extra attention…ah. Here.” She tapped one of a half-dozen monitors with a pen, the one displaying the ‘cop cam’ footage. Its wide, panoramic capture of the street included a dozen or more townhouses- the door on one was opening. A man and a woman stepped out, their deeply-tanned faces full of the same grim hunger that the two Skeletons had come to recognize in certain types of humans. It was an expression that cared not for race, creed, or belief…except that of hatred. 

“These two would be good for answers, if you can get them. He's recruited almost everyone on this street, everyone in that strip of houses at least…” She hesitated a moment, plainly knowing something more and wondering if she should say it- Papyrus didn't even have to move so much as a single finger- the floor rumbled as magic rolled through it, ready to burst forth as whatever its master demanded. It shook the entire building, making dust fall in little rivulets from the high beams of the ceiling.

The threat worked; she paled, raising a hand. Perhaps the woman would have been braver, had her human guards or her canine ones been at her side. She didn't seem like a front-line type to Sans. But with the men out of commission, and the dogs cowering and terrified of the strange magic the two brothers could bring to bear, she was left to face them by herself…and was bending under that weight. “Th-they meet, you know. Groups of them, in each other's houses. Huddling around computers and laptops, reading what he writes, watching videos he sends them. Live streams once a week, at dawn- there'll be one today. And once someone gets brought in, he meets with them in person once. Gives some fuckin’ hand shake, a whole kiss on the cheek and all. He-” she pointed at the man who was getting into a car parked near the cam station “-brought her-” she tapped the woman with the same pen “-into it the other week.”

“I HOPE YOU'RE NOT LYING TO US, DOCTOR.” Papyrus stepped closer. “TELLING US TO FOLLOW TWO RANDOM PEOPLE TO MAKE US LEAVE. WE HAVE NO PROOF THAT YOU'RE BEING HONEST. HONESTY IS IMPORTANT, AFTER ALL.”

It was astonishing how a simple change in his tone of voice could take Papyrus's usual, exuberant declarations from endearing and idealistic, to threatening. She shook her head wildly; Sans could see she was trembling. “No! No, I swear!”

“IF THE PRACTICE MANAGER FOUND OUT YOU'D TAKEN CASH FOR BAD INFORMATION…” Letting the words hang in the air, Papyrus put a hand on the back of her chair again. “WELL, THAT WOULD JUST BE TERRIBLE BUSINESS!” 

Whoever it was that his baby brother had mentioned, it was enough to send the woman into borderline hysterics. Tears rose in her eyes. “No! I swear to god, I swear, it's true! I've been watching them all for months, they've been bad for business already!” She continued in that vein, her voice rising, and Papyrus glanced at his brother with a question in his eyes. 

One of Sans’ more… unique abilities was an almost indescribable sense of a person's, for lack of better terms, morals. A metaphysical scale that he could measure them against, deciding what capacity for cruelty or harm they had in them. He'd done so the moment he'd first laid eyes on the woman, and did so again now, weighing her soul against a potential lie, or misdirection into a trap, versus how he'd known it to be those few short minutes ago. It wasn't foolproof, it wasn't a genuine truth-telling spell like some monsters could cast. But he was fairly certain, in that moment, that she was being honest. He nodded, and Papyrus let go of the chair. “OKAY. THANK YOU VERY MUCH. PLEASE FOLLOW ALONG WITH THEM, SO WE CAN SEE WHERE THEY'RE GOING, AND THEN WE'LL LEAVE.”

She sniffed wetly, her eyes wide, and watched in silence as she followed the car along a dizzying path of video feeds. After a few minutes, Sans murmured, “it's a waste, you know. cause this is brilliant- all your design?” He didn't wait for an answer. “truly freakin’ brilliant. wish i coulda brought you into my team. this kind of thinkin’...we need more of it.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms to hug herself and jerking her head toward Papyrus. “Your team? What, more car nonsense like him?”

“alternate dimensions. traveling between the threads of time.” he shrugged when she shot him an incredulous look. “monster shit. you know, magic.”

“You expect me to believe that?” She swapped a few of the screens over to new viewpoints. “Time travel? That's movies and fairy tales.”

“good thing we're the fairies, then.” He smiled. “but don't feel too left out. i don't hire murderers. what…three people? all a long time ago…but it just sticks with ya, doesn't it? like dirt that you can't quite wash off.”

She went as pale as paper, and turned back to her desk, her hands clenched on the dark wood so hard that her knuckles were white. 

The two brothers stood together in silence for another few minutes then, watching while she flicked her viewpoint along the south side of Ebott, before the car parked outside of another house, this one on a street in even worse shape than the last. “Here.” Her voice was flat now, empty of any emotion at all after Sans had spoken. “She lives here, alone. No kids, no husband. They've started shacking up, he leaves his sons at home overnight with their oldest sister so he can go fuck her in peace, leaves once they’re all in bed.”

“HOW OLD IS THE SISTER?” Papyrus was typing the street name and house number into his phone. The old woman shrugged, staring at her lap. “I don't know. Probably around eleven.” 

Sans winced.

And then there was nothing else to say. He took his brother's hand when he was ready, and teleported the two of them to the roof of the building. The woman had seemed like the type to depend on information, not violence, for her safety. But they still spent a couple minutes waiting to see if anyone was watching their car, before he teleported the two of them down into it.

They drove away, while Papyrus called Undyne.

The two humans, with the freedom of time that came with unemployment and garbage parenting, were snuggled up next to each other after a pre-dawn romp in the sheets. A cheap laptop rested at the bottom of the bed, plugged in and waiting for sunrise, when he would make his weekly announcement. News had traveled through the city as swiftly as gossip always does, and now they waited in trepidation to see if their role model and revolutionary leader would truly complete his miracle a second time. 

If he would rise from the dead. 

Six-fifty in the morning…

the first light of a late fall dawn shining through her filthy curtains…

two faces crowded close in eagerness…

…A set of silencing spells cast on the room, as a powerful woman threw down the tiny puffs of dust that activated the magic, and immediately grabbed both of them in an inescapable grip, the scales on the backs of her hands scuffing their skin. Four more silent figures teleporting on either side of the bed, some shoving the aspiring-murderers down and cuffing, then gagging them. And then, to their silent, screaming horror, a pair of glowing green eyes that appeared from the darkness. 

Jia Liu smiled darkly, running her hands back across the long, sweeping feathers on the traditional hat she wore. The ravages of her own country's political and social turmoil over so many centuries had robbed them of so much folklore, so much magical history. So much historical and fantastical knowledge, purposely destroyed in the name of forced ‘progress’. But the Monster archives had contained at least some references to older times, and now she shook her head for a moment, enjoying how the jade beads that dangled down onto her forehead danced. The headdress, based on drawings of old shamanic practices from her grandmother's ancestral home in Yunnan, had been a gratitude gift from Queen Toriel- Jia loved it. The feathers felt as though they uplifted her Soul, calling her to the bird spirits of the air. The jade cooled her in turn, binding her to the ancient strength and longevity of the powerful stone. And around it all, the scarlet and black velvet that formed the tall, wearable part, marked with careful lines of embroidery in lucky gold and green.

The two humans had been pulled away from the bed, settled carefully under heavy guard as two Dogs gripped them firmly by the back of the necks, practically scruffing them like errant puppies. Undyne’s face was hard in the darkness as she resurfaced from the woman's walk-in closet, sitting one huge jug after another of some light-red liquid on the floor outside- the four five-gallon containers had originally held water before being filled with whatever was in them and sealed with duct tape. Next to them, a laundry basket of wiring and electrical parts. Finally, nine huge, black contractor bags. She opened one to show them all its contents- tightly-packed styrofoam beads. 

Jia shuddered. If the jugs held kerosene…that was a dangerous amount of napalm that could be made. Combined with the electronics?

Grimly, Undyne carried out one last thing, carefully holding it with her fingertips. The younger woman frowned, squinting in the dim light that filtered around the curtains- it looked like a small, black-wrapped packet, shaped like…like a lumpy brick?

…oh.  

The short Skeleton man gave her a polite thumbs up as she dragged her attention back to the room at large, trying to ignore the horror implied by what the Captain had found. She liked him- he was jovial and comforting, and his powerful teleportation magic had allowed them to pull off this raid without so much as a peep. She liked his brother too, though by all accounts, he was usually much more light-hearted than the quiet, pensive version she knew. His partner had been attacked on three different occasions now, and the tall man was twisting himself into knots over it on the inside. Jia could feel his emotions like tangled roots, like a plant that didn't realize it was free from its tight pot and continued to wrap around itself tighter and tighter- her gift of Connection made her yearn to talk to him, to help him…but she hadn't had the time. They'd only arrived a few days ago, after all. 

She’d change that soon, she promised herself. He needed her. Frisk said he was important; that some great Crossroads of this situation rode on his shoulders, but they couldn't tell what. Jia would help uplift him in preparation for whatever that cost would be.

But for the moment…

Undyne flicked her fingers, and the silence spell disappeared. In a voice far too soft to carry to the row homes on either side of this one, she murmured, “Sans?” and gestured to the two humans.

He pointed to each of them in turn. “her? a lot of bad, but no murders. him? two, recent. really recent. his soul hasn't even adjusted to the lv yet.”

Jia saw the victorious look on Papyrus’s face at that, and inwardly made a guess. On their way to this place, the two Skeletons had explained to her and Undyne where they'd gotten their information. Perhaps the woman that they called the ‘optometrist’ had felt guilty, seeing so much bad done in the city and refusing to help until now. She wasn't positive of course, but she'd bet money that this man had killed the two security officers found dumped in the bushes outside of the stadium on behalf of his leader, and the optometrist had given them over to the Monsters as a morbid apology.

Sound crackled from the laptop - on a website that was only a black background, a live stream had started. 

She cracked her knuckles- it was time. Sans and Undyne were busy teleporting the two humans away, but one of the guards remained at her side constantly- he handed over her book bag. In less than a minute, she had her laptop set up and connected to the woman's wifi. Then, taking a deep breath, she sank her left hand into the shitty laptop, and her right hand into her own. 

A minute…

Two…

Five…

“Hello, dear and faithful friends…” The arsonist's voice came clearly, though the room he was recording in was too dark to see his face.

Jia smiled grimly, racing like an undetectable virus through a million-million connections until she found her goal. A treasure, buried just for her- a server bank… a hard drive…and most importantly…

A connection.

“Hello, asshole,” she whispered in reply, knowing he couldn't hear her. The evil man went on blathering, crowing and preening over his miraculous rejuvenation. “Now I have you.” 

One of the guards glanced at her, their eyes wide as they read something on their phone. She cocked a brow, half her mind on solidifying the path to the arsonist's system so she could find it at any time, and half on the Dog. “What?”

“DNA results finally came back. Partial match successful- Captain says they were blocked by court order, sealed decades ago.” The big Rottweiler’s voice was very soft as he showed her a message from Undyne. 

“Just got a name- Edward Riker. And would you believe it?

Owns the fucking stadium.” 

Chapter Text

Papyrus leaned next to you, an arm protectively around your shoulders as you stood with your lips pursed and your arms crossed, staring at the older human man sitting sulkily behind a one-way window. Your man had come home around ten that morning full of vicious happiness- seemingly, whatever information he'd gone the night before to find had resulted in not only an excellent clue, but the prevention of an enormous act of arson AND two more firebugs to interrogate. Driving the two of you into the castle, he'd explained his and Undyne's efforts that morning- efforts that they hoped skirted along the edge of human legality…but if not, the Crown could worry about that later. 

Then, best of all, the FBI investigators had finally found something useful in their DNA search. A name, an identity…and an address.

As he'd led you down to the eastern palace person cells, you'd been immensely excited- finally, finally, the arsonist had been caught! Finally he'd been found…

…only to see an absolute stranger sulking in the cell. Not the man who'd attacked you the day before. 

“A BLOOD RELATION, MAYBE. BUT HE WON'T TALK. THE FBI IS GOING TO WORK ON HIM.” Your man glared at the human with real anger. “RECOGNIZE HIM?”

You shook your head.

“EDWARD STINKIN’ RIKARD. OWNS THE STADIUM.”

Ahhhhh. You clicked your tongue against your teeth in distaste. “Figures.” You gestured to him, taking in his dark hair, dark eyes, and same deeply-set features. “Uncle? Father?”

“NO ONE KNOWS. APPARENTLY THE FEDERAL POLICE HAD TO ESCALATE THIS TO SOME FANCY STATE COURT FOR THE DNA MATCH TO EVEN BE RELEASED! SO THEY GOT THE INFO, BUT THE LEGAL WHATCHAMAWHOOSIT THAT IT CAME FROM IS STILL SEALED. WE DON'T KNOW WHY THIS GUY HAD TO DO A DNA TEST FOR SOMETHING LEGAL. APPARENTLY COULD BE SO MANY THINGS, IT'S VERY FRUSTRATING.”

Undyne snorted, speaking up from where she'd claimed one chair and kicked her feet up on another. It was fascinating to see her in her full armor, gleaming and so heavily magically bespelled that you could see the tiny lines of green runes tracing down over it again and again like ‘matrix’ text. “Most likely? It's cause he did an ancestry test, the cops said. Apparently human companies buy those results and sell them to the law.” She crossed her legs comfortably. “Or it could be something fucknasty, ya know. Rape, crime scene, felony theft that he got sealed- there's a ton of reasons. But the ancestry thing is pretty likely, since humans with enough money can sue to get their results sort of permanently re-sealed again legally…unless they're being implicated in felony terrorism and arson, the little cunt.”

“Well with him being such a nice fucking guy, who'd be surprised…” you muttered, staring at the deceptively normal looking man who'd participated in years of nasty shittiness toward the Monsters who just wanted to go see a fucking baseball game, of all things. “Wait…hmmmm. I just remembered something. Might be nothing, but…” Papyrus glanced at you in interest. “My manager Katrine told me months ago that he owns a ton of property around the city too, but not directly. She thought that he owned two of the rental management companies, Sherry Whittlings and Block Inc…it was just casual conversation then, when we were all bitching about the stupid stadium shit…but...” When Undyne groaned, you nodded. “Yeah…how much you wanna bet there's a crossover between his places, and places that the arsonist is recruiting? You said he's targeting specific areas in the rougher parts of the city, right Py?”

Caught mid-yawn, Papyrus nodded, while Undyne scowled. “Who are you to all of this, Riker?” She muttered, scooting forward in a metallic clatter to straddle her second chair and glare in at the man through the enchanted one-way glass. “Why are you so connected? Who’s that fucking arsonist to you?”

Monsters were, as a whole, not the best at interrogation. Most of their own species, caught in the usual petty crimes or thievery, would confess after a few minutes of stern words. By the set of the man's jaw and the stormy anger on his face, you doubted he'd say anything to them- hate was a powerful defense, even in the face of magical threats. Perhaps he knew that they wouldn't go further than threats. 

That made you smile grimly. Things would be a different story, once the feds arrived. Humans weren't nearly so gentle, and the arsonist was quite literally causing an international emergency- the world's powers and countries valued Monster gold and Monster magic, even if they didn't value Monster lives necessarily. The States were under heavy scrutiny by the rest of the world, waiting to see how they'd treat these sovereign people in their midst…and waiting to see if they could catch the world’s first powerfully magical criminal. 

Edward Riker would talk. One way or another. 

The three of you left after a few more minutes of staring at the man- Undyne to change into normal clothing, you and Papyrus to get lunch before your exhausted man went home for some well-deserved rest. She wandered down a side hall with an absent-minded wave, leaving the two of you to head out the main way…

…where you came across a very interesting sight. 

Jia, the wonderfully bubbly, sweet green Mage from Hong Kong that Papyrus had told you about, was standing in front of another cell with her arms crossed, a disgusted expression on her face. The one-way window/door before her was closed just like the one holding Riker had been. But the human inside, a dark haired, deeply-tanned female recruit that had been captured that morning, wasn't alone.

The other Mage, James, was in with her, leaning forward in his wheelchair and staring her in her eye intently.

Papyrus put a hand out, stopping you. No one had noticed the two of you coming around the corner, so you both stayed silent and watched, shivering when you realized what was happening. 

The magical glass was more than one-way for visibility; you could hear him as clearly as if the door was open. James had a hand under the woman's chin, her eyes glowing yellow just as his did. “You know it's wrong,” he murmured. “You know you'll kill people. Dozens of people, maybe even more. Innocent people. Do you think it's okay for him to make it feel good?” 

Tears began to leak from the woman's eyes, though her expression remained neutral.

“Is someone else going to set off the bomb that you had the ingredients for? Surely you weren't the only one in on the plan. Surely there were backups, right? Contingencies?” 

Like she was caught in a dream, she nodded slowly. You noticed her hands were gripping the thinly padded edge of the seat so hard that she'd popped her thumb nail through the foam in one spot. “....yes….w-we had…other people. Th…three groups of…of us, I…won't tell you more! Let me go, make it stop!”

“You could stop it. You could do the right thing.” He gripped her face more tightly. “Tell me where they planned to use all of that kerosene. The C4. Tell me where you meant to build a bomb.”

A tiny noise left her throat- pain? Or was it sadness? “You're hurting me…”

“For god's sake, no I’m not. The only thing you're feeling is your own guilt, your horror at your own actions.” He almost sounded disgusted. “All I've done is lift his control off of you. You let his power numb you, make you feel good. You're letting him take all of your bad feelings… because it feels good. All I'm doing is giving them back.”

“P…please…no more…” A sob hitched in her throat. 

“No more?” James scoffed quietly. “For God's sake, ‘no more’?! These are your feelings, Maria. Your guilt, your fear at being caught. You've only been under his influence for a month , and you're already so used to being numb from him?” He shook his head in horror. “You should feel sad that your man killed two people. You should feel horrible that you left your elderly mother to die in her apartment alone for weeks, all so you could give your time and efforts to a criminal- yes, we know you have a warrant out for that! Thank God her neighbors noticed something was wrong and called an ambulance before it was too late! You should feel guilty that you were building a bomb, you-”

Jia made a noise in her throat, and James took a deep breath, cutting himself off. “...tell me where you were supposed to build it, Maria. Tell me who else was going to be there…and I'll let his magic cover you again. You can have it back.”

The very implications of what you were hearing shook you to your core. The man was a drug, he was Soul heroin- that's how he was controlling people, manipulating them. Anyone who felt guilty for something in their life could go to him and have the guilt lifted away, replaced by comfortable warmth and numbness. Taking a few silent steps back, you pulled your man toward the hallway that Undyne had gone down, not wanting to be near that horrible woman for another second. Poor James… you didn't know him, hadn't even met him yet, but the thought of having to use some intrinsic part of yourself to reach into another person only to find that type of emptiness, that kind of numb comfort after such a horrible act as leaving their elderly mother to starve and die alone…it was unimaginable.

Papyrus shook his head beside you. “I WANT ALL OF THIS TO BE OVER,” he said softly, directing you through the more winding access tunnels and up a few flights of stairs. “I DON'T LIKE ANY OF IT AT ALL! IT'S VERY MORBID AND GROSS AND SPOOKY…JEEZ LOUISE. I GUESS WE KNOW HOW HE RECRUITS SO MANY PEOPLE NOW.”

“Magical soma,” you murmured, a shiver going up your spine. “He's giving them all a magical soma vacation- oh, it's from a human book.” He had glanced at you with curiosity. “They control the population in it with a combination of a numbing pleasure drug called soma, and these manufactured moments of rage against invisible enemies.”

“OH…LOVELY. AT LEAST YOU STINKY THINGS KNOW YOURSELVES.” Reaching the top of the final landing, he offered you his hand- you didn't have the advantage of effortless exercise like he did, and seven flights of stairs would put anyone a bit out of breath. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO GET LUNCH WITH ME? AND THEN PERHAPS I WILL GO HOME AND TAKE A CHEESE-FLAVORED NAP; HE IS A MOST EXCELLENT NAPPING BUDDY.”

“Sounds like a plan, honey.” Blowing a strand of hair out of your eyes as you caught your breath, you pointed across the large back hall the two of you had surfaced in- at the end, Frisk rounded the corner at a jog, glancing over their shoulder with a hand up like they were fending something off. “What the heck-”

They got closer, and you could hear their whisper-shriek. “NO! It's gross, absolutely not!”

And then came the Prince, grinning like the devil as he gestured beseechingly at his partner. “Come onnnn, they're so fun! Tasty and chewy and squeaky and salty!”

Frisk ducked behind you…and for a moment, you weren't sure what to make of it. The young mage looked so different from how they had the day before- an immortal deity, screaming with anger with eyes like cut rubies. Now they looked like the eighteen year old they were, using you as a home base while Asriel stuffed his hands in his pockets and offered you and Papyrus a friendly, “Yo.”

“Tell him he shouldn't eat my contacts!” Frisk whispered urgently into your ear. “Theyre not good for him, no matter how much he likes the feeling…and it's freaking gross anyway!”

Being supremely grossed out overrode your hesitation toward them, at least in that moment- you made a face at Asriel. “Now I've heard of microplastics, but I don't think macro plastics are any better. That's nasty, man.”

He sniffed, putting his delicate white snout in the air and wafting his hand toward you. “You wouldn't understand the appeal. And I can eat lots of things- aluminum cans, glass bottles, cloth napkins…”

“Yeah but the napkins make you sick as hell,” Frisk muttered from behind you. 

“All the more reason to build my tolerance up.” The young boss Monster held out a glasses case in one hand. ”But here, your royal occultishness. One pair of glasses, with no promise of delectable contacts in return. You're both a pair of fun-suckers.”

Frisk, smirking, came out from behind you…and as they did, you felt their fingertips brush the large, raw gem on the tied-on bracelet they'd given you what seemed like years, but was really only a week or so, before. 

Your reaction was instinctual- you yanked your hand away, taking a step sideways to avoid them. Frisk blinked at you, and you shook your head. “No more, for a few days.” You weren't even fully sure of what you were asking for, but you knew that you had to. “No more of that….of any of it. Please.” 

The mage cocked a brow. “...you're alive because of…because of ‘it’.” Their fingertips sparkled with a red shimmer as they said ‘it’ dryly. “I don't see what you have to complain about. It saved your life.” Something clicked into place in your mind, something that you had noticed about Frisk before subconsciously, but had never been able to put into words until that very moment.

They didn't talk like a teenager. At least, not all the time, no; only when it served them to. When it helped them to be seen as young, then they sounded young- used slang, acted sarcastic. 

But right in that moment, they suddenly weren't trying to be seen as an eighteen year old- the tone they took with you was nearly one of parental disappointment. You mulled that all over for a moment, then clicked your tongue against your teeth for a moment. “It did. Thanks for that…but did I even have to be there?” When they blinked but didn't answer right away, you sighed, feeling so damn tired despite a good night's sleep. Your hand still ached and itched, your mind raced with a thousand thoughts of what had happened at the baseball game…and you just didn't have the strength to deal with any more esoteric crap. 

“I came up with the idea for the game, yeah. But things have been crazy, I was pretty damn surprised that the Crown or whatever had still decided to have their special field day so soon after a major attack within their own capital. Now I understand you had reinforcements- the other Mages and everything, sure.” The more you said out loud, the more you realized…and the more you started to feel a low sense of frustration in your stomach. “But you said so yourself- you went months ahead, figuring out the best way to do things. And the best way to do things was…was to have me there, and die a few times, until I bought that failed chance for the guards to kill him?”

“But did you die?” Their voice was very soft- they pushed Asriel away as he tried to step forward and whisper something to them. “Was any of that real for you? I don't think so. You don't know what happened, because it didn't. Nothing bad ever happened to you.”

The past few weeks had been too much, too damn much. Everyone kept saying how well you were taking things, how they expected you to be scared or traumatized, despite you telling them over and over that you were angry. And with that anger, the question that all of this had led up to came spilling from your lips before you could even reconsider it-. “Frisk…do you even see other people as people?” 

For a moment, they only stared at you. Then, reaching up, they pulled the contact first out of one eye and then the other, and dropped them into the prince’s surprised paw. “I'm letting you remember this, aren't I? Would you let a fake person remember things that don't help you?” You realized then that the contacts they wore had to be magically enchanted, for their bare eyes were truly a glowing, shining red as they gazed up at you- the first time you'd ever seen that unearthly color. “Wouldn't you save-scum a video game if you could?”

Before you could think of an answer to that insane, impossible, yet apparently incredibly pertinent question, they were walking away down the hall. The Prince, after a moment's hesitation, tossed the two contacts into his muzzle like pieces of bubble gum, and disappeared after Frisk. 

“LUNCH,” came your partner's uncharacteristically quiet voice from beside you. “LUNCH, AND SLEEP. AND THEN WE WILL DEAL WITH CRAZY THINGS.”

“...yeah.” You tore your eyes away from where the two Royals had disappeared around a bend in the hall. “Lunch and a long nap sounds good to me.”

The two of you were almost at the exit when a quiet, polite throat clearing caught your attention- you nearly growled in your throat at another interruption, but stopped yourself at the last moment. The yellow mage, James, was wheeling himself out of the elevator across the hall, a bundle on his lap.

“Oh here you be, just as I was comin’ to look for you both.” He offered you a friendly smile, then held up the package in his lap. “One spell-catching net, courtesy of yours truly. Well, and Prince Asriel- he knitted it.” He winked at you, his eyes a beautiful bright blue interlaced with gold like that Japanese style of pottery repair that you'd always admired. “Ah, well, and he painted the special oils on it and all; what does he need me for? Oh, just a battery. Make it rain, James. Help power the fishbowl over our mountain, James. Spit on this macrame and give it to the pretty human girl, James- nevermind that it seems a damn rude thing to do to a gift, I swear by all the-”

You couldn't help it- despite the seriousness of the past couple days, you were smiling by the end of his little tirade. His accent was cute, and the sour expression on his face made his words all the funnier. 

Beside you, Papyrus was grinning too. “YES, WE CAN TELL YOU'VE SUFFERED TERRIBLY. LIVING IN A PALACE AND EATING ENDLESS BRISKET, IN EXCHANGE FOR A SPELL OR TWO HERE AND THERE.”

James thrust the paper wrapped thing in his lap at the taller man. “No sympathy at all for a poor damaged fuck like me, eh? You go and try to find something that even resembles States barbecue within a hundred miles of Glastonbury- go on, I'll wait.”

“Come over sometime, and I'll make you ribs that practically melt off the bone.” you gestured up at your man. “And he makes a mean potato salad…the German kind. Bacon fat and all.”

James laughed, running his hands back through his stark red hair. “Hey, well the palace has been nice and all, but…” 

After a few more moments of gentle ribbing back and forth between him and Papyrus, the Great Mage gestured to the package in your partner's hands. “All right, I didn't mean to hold you up. Hang that over your bed, or over your couch. Preferably not in the direct view of any windows, just in case. If he tries to sling nasties at either of you, you'll see them stuck in it like little crawly glowy things. Smash ‘em with your shoe like a spider, I’m not kidding. A good, hard whack.”

He caught your incredulous look and shrugged. “What can I say? The Prince told me to imagine what I thought bad spells would look like, and I hate bugs. So what's the best way to kill a bug? A sandal.”

Bizarrely, it did kind of make sense.

The two of you left shortly after that, going through a drive-thru as Papyrus started yawning so hard that they shook him. After getting home, he barely got a spring roll down before he passed out on the couch. Smiling at how sweet he looked when he was asleep, you went and quietly hammered a few hooks into the wall above your bed, hanging the softly shimmering golden net there like some kind of beautiful art piece. That done, you were just stepping back down off the mattress when two strong, bony arms wrapped around your legs and yanked you down to the bed beside their owner, who had apparently snuck in without you noticing before bouncing up beside you. Comfy at last, your man fell deeply asleep… and after a few moments of struggling around his arms to peel your bra and leggings off, you joined him.

The arsonist, crazy terrorists in the city, and Frisk be damned. Life was still good. And when you felt ready, you had your own plans to offer your partner- plans that had nothing to do with human magic.

No…quite the opposite, in fact.

-

Two weeks passed in glorious, peaceful quiet, as the warm October passed into a chilly, brisk November. Jia discovered some good news in her spying, which filtered down to Papyrus through the usual palace channels- your desperate, terrified effort at the stadium had not been in vain. The hand that had been damaged by him clutching one of the Queen's guards special spears, his right hand, looked raw and pustulant. But his left hand, the one you had stabbed clean through? He wore a black leather glove on it now, and didn't seem to be able to use it anymore.

You didn't want to be happy about permanently injuring someone…but you were, a little. You'd had nightmares the past few nights of your loved ones burning, of friends and family being tormented by the insane arsonist. So it was good to know that your efforts had led to at least something permanent… and better still to know that the power he held, the one that Papyrus and Sans called ‘RESPAWN,’ wasn't completely foolproof. From a normal injury, sure. But those spears were relics of ancient times, reclaimed from the Royal Museum and reworked by the best magical craftsmen that the Monster kingdom had. Made of a deadly, enchanted material known as Coldiron, the rare weapons were capable of inflicting incredible harm to magical beings. No one had known just how incredible that harm could be until your attack with merely the broken end of one had left a Great Mage with a permanent wound.

Oddly your life had, suddenly and almost paradoxically, gotten incredibly easier in many ways after the crisis at the stadium. The county had put your entire department on administrative leave, and the Crown had assigned you a spending account for your bills and utilities just the day before- the amount in it, and what it converted to in dollars, was enough to make your eyes water. You had virtually unfettered access to the palaces of the Monster kingdom, a partner who was at least a good acquaintance of, if not good friends with, some of the most powerful people of that country, and a family that was being guarded by 24/7 physical and technological protections. 

If not for it all coming at the cost of a powerfully gifted, near miraculous madman putting a target on your back due to his outrage at your escape, it could have been a downright pleasant time.

So what did you do during it all? You spent your ample free time doing that secret, private research, learning more and more about the nebulous idea that had started to form in the back of your mind thanks to the archive Gemsoul’s guidance. After nine days or so, you finally felt that you had enough information, and enough proof, to talk to Papyrus about it all. You were positive what his knee-jerk reaction would be, what any modern Monster’s knee-jerk reaction would be…

… but you had to try. Damn and bless that silly Mauschen movie that you'd accidentally turned on sometime ago. It had given you an earworm that had led you to a miracle.

Now all you had to do was convince him.

For his own peace of mind and sanity, Papyrus had started working at the bookstore again. He wasn't even drawing a paycheck anymore, though the owner often insisted on handing him rolls of cash at random times, usually saying for him to, ‘buy his girl something nice with it,’ apparently. You were happy to see him doing something he loved, and happier still that it got him out of the house for at least a few hours every day- you didn't want to have to keep hiding your notebooks and folders from him when you got home from the archive and he was there.

When he got home late that Sunday, happy after a successful book signing by a local author (he’d managed to convince the woman to go forward with the event despite the recent dangers in Ebbot, and had guarded her like a hawk the entire time), you greeted him with his favorite dinner- spaghetti and meatballs- and enough wine to float a Papyrus away. Once he was sufficiently stuffed, relaxed, and pleasantly tipsy, absent-mindedly spinning himself in circles on your desk chair, you went over to him, smiling at his immediate hug.

“OH BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY, WHATEVER HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO ON THIS CHILLY FALL DAY?” He nuzzled into your chest, naughtily nosing for your nipples as you shoved his head away. “Perv! And well-” You took a breath; this was the moment. “-see, I've been working on something. Something secret.”

Nothing was more tempting to Papyruses. “OHHHHH? AND WHAT MIGHT THIS SECRET THINGY BE? YOU HAVE BEEN SPENDING AN AWFUL LOT OF TIME AT THE PALACE, LATELY. *GASP* ARE YOU PERHAPS COMMITTING A SECRET AND YEARNING TRYST?” He slid his hands up the bare back of your thighs as he said it, squeezing at the pillowy flesh there that he loved so much. 

It was one of the universe's rare constants. Light illuminated, darkness concealed, and your sweet, adorable man had a thing for your butt.

Grinning for a moment, you shook your head. “Unfortunately, nary a single tryst to be had. No, um…so…I've been researching something at the castle archive. Actually, it's been helping me research it!” He watched with interest as you grabbed a notebook off your desk and came back into his hold with it- it was the most important one, for it held a carefully condensed summary of everything that you'd learned over the past weeks of research. “I think, to a modern Monster,  the stuff in this is gonna seem very impossible and dangerous and heretical. But…honey, remember when you said that most Monsters don't have the power to, like, ‘stand up’ to a Great Mage? That you don't?” He nodded, a bit of sadness coming into his expression. You opened the notebook and held it out to him, opened to the beginning of your multi-page summary of everything you'd learned. “I…actually think they can. That there's a way that you could.”

You stepped back and sat on the back of the sofa, waiting. To his credit, your man carefully read everything you'd written over the next few minutes…took a deep breath and opened his mouth to doubtlessly refute it as he turned to you with an absolutely gobsmacked look….then went back and read it all a second time. Then he stared out your window for a solid minute and a half, tapping his sharp, unshielded fingertips on the wood to the rhythm of the Toreador March as he thought, before standing abruptly and walking over to the couch behind you, collapsing down onto it.

Finally, he turned to you, his ‘brow’ furrowed as he gestured toward your notes on the cushion beside him. 

“SO…I WANT TO MAKE SURE THAT MY WONDERFULLY QUICK AND IRONCLAD BRAIN IS UNDERSTANDING THIS CORRECTLY.”

You nodded.

“THE CASTLE ARCHIVE HELPED YOU DO THIS RESEARCH?”

Another nod, as you went over to him. 

“THE ARCHIVE HELPED YOU FIND UNTRANSLATED, OLD AS HECK WRITINGS ABOUT…ABOUT THIS. WHICH YOU THEN TRANSLATED YOURSELF.”

“Mmhm.”

“AND NO ONE ELSE KNOWS YOU DID ALL OF THAT BUT ME? NO ONE ELSE KNOWS WHAT YOU FOUND THERE?”

You shook your head. “Not yet, no. I wanted you to see first, but then the stupid game happened, and then I was gonna ask you that night when everything was happy, but then everything WASN'T happy…ugh.”

He held up a hand to cut you off, the oddest expression on his face. “BUNNY…YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU WERE READING, RIGHT? WHAT YOU'RE SUGGESTING?”

A deep breath. Now, it was time to start convincing, lest all your work be in vain. “That Monsters can take the Soul from a living human and use it without killing the human? That instead of the semi-permanent elevation that a dead human Soul gives, two people- a Monster and a human- who trust each other enough…can do that over and over again, and live?” You pointed to an excerpt from ‘Warpaires’. “I figured it out by inference, basically- absolutely no documentation points it out directly. They use religious or artistic language related to it…but it had to be at least somewhat safe. Cause if it killed the human husband or wife every time their Monster spouse did it during combat…I mean, first of all, how many couples would be that fanatically loyal to a leader? But secondly, if it had, then they wouldn't have needed ongoing supply runs for human things, medicines and such. They wouldn't have brought their families with them, planning for long war campaigns. It was safe. They survived it, over and over.” Leaning forward, you cupped his cheek, holding his eye with your own. “Which means we could, too.”

As you'd expected, Papyrus immediately shook his head. He'd been willing to believe you, right up to the point that it was your life, your Soul, that the two of you would be experimenting with. “NO WAY. THERE'S NO WAY. FIRST, THERE’S NO WAY TO TEST IT WITHOUT PULLING YOUR DANG SOUL OUT AND USING IT. SECOND, I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW!” He scooted back from you a little. “NOPE. PASS IT TO HER MAJESTY OR UNDYNE, I'M SURE SOME OF THE BATTLE-TRAINED GUARDS GET UP TO SOME HUMAN CANOODLING. LET THEM EXPERIMENT ON THE PEOPLE THEY LOVE.”

“But you and Sans are different,” you said quietly, saying these thoughts aloud to him for the first time, despite thinking about them for months. “You don't just work magic and it comes out white. You have color in it, sometimes- like human magic, kind of. You can do different things, more fantastical things, than almost any other Monsters can. And don't just try to tell me it's practice, Py-” He sat back a little with his lips sucked over his teeth, plainly having taken a breath to do just that “-cause I know it ain't.” Going to him, you took his hands in your own, stepping between his thighs as he gazed up at you with a terribly unsure look. “And hey, if it's something private between you and Sans and your brother, I get it. But…I know Mister Gaster was like…listed, I guess, as a special kind of Monster. I saw it in one of the really, really old genealogy things I looked at to see if humans did survive to have more kids after having their Souls used like this- they did, by the way. So…yeah. He was listed the same as Their Majesties. Which means you’d…maybe kind of be the same too, right? A…a Boss Monster?”

Papyrus shook his head, looking a bit frail all of a sudden. “NOT…NOT LIKE WE SHOULD BE. NOT ENOUGH.” He gazed up at you with those fairy-light eyes that occasionally turned into little hearts when he looked your way. “AND I…DON'T HAVE FIGHTING EXPERIENCE BUNNY, NOT REALLY. JUST LITTLE THINGS, AGAINST PETTY POOPHEADS AND HOODLUMS. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'D DO AGAINST SOMEONE LIKE THE ARSONIST, I REALLY DON'T. EVEN IF I WAS SUDDENLY…YOU KNOW, GRAND AND POWERFUL AND SUPER COOL…I WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT I COULD DO. OR SHOULD DO.”

Poor, kind man, who'd been stopped from having to commit violence all those years ago by a best friend who knew he shouldn't have to. Who blamed himself for being too good of a person. 

“Then we practice.” There, finally. You were finally able to get to the crux of this whole thing, the biggest, first piece of your plan. “Cause no one would have experience doing this honeybones, you'd be no different than anyone else. I don't know if normal training or fighting experience would necessarily carry over anyway; the people in these books, they described it as like…a divine experience. Like something religious.” You leaned down and kissed his forehead. “So we practice- it would be stupid to just run out and face him down without a whole lot of practice together anyway, right? And not just us, either. I'd have to be nearby, yet I’d have to be kept safe. This couldn't be a secret- Undyne, her guards, heck probably even the fancy Mages, they'd all have to know. It wouldn't… couldn't be just us.” From a folder on the desk beside his elbow, you pulled sketches that you'd painstakingly traced with carbon paper. “These were from a stack of drawings made during some big conflict three thousand years ago, and look- they had whole freaking platoons of soldiers to back these pairs up. They were like…the heavy artillery, with tons of support and coverage around them. The Monster partner is kind of described as being in almost like a trance or something, it's never said directly, with the human partner kind of giving commands? But not exactly? It's not clear.”

He said nothing for a long time, just slid his hands up and down your wrists and stared at the floor…then took a deep breath. 

“...SO…THEORETICALLY…WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?”

You grimaced. “Well…that's the hard part. I have no idea. There's literally no Monster left alive who's done it, for like thousands of years. This stuff was pre-Toriel and Asgore, so over two-thousand years ago. No one left a written guide, at least not in the castle archives. We'd be reinventing the wheel.”

“OH…RATS, WHELP I GUESS IF THERE'S NOTHING WE CAN DO, WE'D BETTER JUST NOT BOTHER WITH-”

“Papyrus.” 

He buried his face in your belly, hiding there and wrapping his arms around you. “I…JEEZ LOUISE, DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE ASKING ME TO DO? ONE MISTAKE, AND YOU'RE GONE. I…I CAN'T DO THAT. I CAN'T.”

“Aren't you the one who told me Souls are all about intention?” Taking his hand again, you raised it until his palm was pressed over your Soul, between your breasts. “Why would mine be any different from yours that way? You know…you've already called it out, like honestly quite a few times-” Despite him trying to hide it, your words made him blush tangerine from his cheekies to his collarbones. “-so this is just like…the next step of that, kinda. Just less horny.” 

“OH NO, I THINK IT WILL STILL BE VERY MUCH HORNY, ACTUALLY.” His knee was bouncing, you noticed with interest. “IT'S ALREADY SO…SO CLOSE. SO, UM, INTIMATE. AND…I…I…”

You'd never heard him so kerfuffled. “Come on. Think about it. I…I can't keep you safe from him, honey. I got so lucky last time, so lucky, and that was with a literal reality bending magician giving me my best possible chance. This is the only way I can help you. By giving you something, for a little while, that makes you... grander… than what you are now.” A few illustrations that the archive had allowed you to take temporarily fluttered out of the notebook as he picked it up to move it off the couch. He caught them all carefully, setting them down on the coffee table…and then one caught his eye. He stared down at the page in his hand. A sketch was there at the center of the ancient parchment, the only thing on the page- a six pointed, almost star-shaped diagram, with four of the points lobed. From it, the ancient artist had used what must have been precious pigments to draw radiating lines of rainbows, as if the thing depicted there was giving off light in every color imaginable.

It was a human Soul and a Monster Soul, overlaid.

You walked back over to your desk and tapped your finger on top of more pages of your own notes, all of them handwritten. “These are letters between a husband and wife from before and after a war. Human husband, Monster wife. Documented as an enlightened pair, and seemingly just as in love and alive after the war as they were before it.” Another stack. “These are the bookkeeping records for a small fiefdom owned by a married couple, a human woman and a Monster woman. Nothing in it directly says that both of them came home alive, but the food and textile receipts don't change significantly after they both returned from some territorial skirmish- again, an enlightened pair. If the human woman had just died from her wife using her Soul, there would have been no reason for the house steward to continue making notes about serving her same favorite meals on certain holidays or on her birthday, and certainly no reason to continue buying her favorite fabrics, breeds of sheep for wool, or teas.” 

He was wavering now, you could see it. “Come on honey! I'm willing to try if you are.” Going back to him, you reached down and took his face gently in your hands. “You're the gentlest, most careful man I know- the gentlest, most careful person I know. If anyone could do this safely, it's you. Someone had to figure it out first and survive it, right?” Then, blushing a little, you added, “...and the Queen seems to think there's something special about the two of us. That our connection is special, that our Souls are special with each other. That has to be worth something for this.”

He took a deep breath, then finally met your eye. “PROMISE ME THAT THE SECOND SOMETHING STARTED TO HURT, OR FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE, OR EVEN JUST WEIRD OR ICKY, YOU'D SAY SOMETHING. PROMISE IT.”

“I promise. I don't wanna die, honeybones. If something feels even the tiniest bit unkosher, I'll speak up.”

“I…OKAY. I…NEED TO THINK ABOUT THIS.”

You nodded, feeling weak with relief- you'd been terrified that he'd just end up flat out rejecting the idea entirely. “Sure, of course! It's a lot for you to consider- I just kind of have to sit there, from everything I read. Or just be around. You're the one that has to do all the crazy stuff with it.” And then, almost a little embarrassingly, your knees went a little weak for a second as he thoughtlessly spanned your waist with his long-fingered hands. His obvious, blatant concern for you was sparking affection and warm heat low in your belly- you tried to ignore it. Of course, he unknowingly made it worse by pulling you down onto his lap, his favorite way to hold you. You'd only been wearing a t-shirt and underwear when he'd gotten home, and the position was doing funny things to your lady bits.

“I…SHEESH. I GUESS I'M JUST A BIT, UM…HEH…FLATTERED?! KINDA?! IS THAT BAD OF ME?” He searched your face, completely unaware of the increasingly filthy thoughts in your mind, squeezing at your hips with no more dirty intentions than if he was squeezing a particularly soft and cuddly toy. “I MEAN, THAT'S JUST SO CRAZY OF A THING TO, YOU KNOW, BE WILLING TO EVEN LET ME TRY, THAT YOU’D EVEN CONSIDER…HM?” 

God dammit- you grinned, more at yourself than anything. He'd used that ridiculous, nonsensical Monster strength of his to resettle you more comfortably on his lap, and the sensation of being easily, physically lifted in such an awkward position had rippled through you like liquid heat for some reason. Your nipples were so hard that they poked through your shirt like they were trying to escape, and you were sure you'd made some little noise in your throat.

Papyrus cocked his head, his eyes lingering as they slid down your body and back up to your face again, and you saw his brow quirk up the tiniest bit. “...OH, WHAT'S THIS?”

And…perhaps, in some rare moments of solitude over the past three or four weeks, as nebulous ideas had become more concrete plans of miraculous magical gifts between the two of you, you'd had a few horny imaginings. How could you not?! Sometimes it felt like you were breathing with his lungs when he was root-deep inside of you and reflecting off of your Soul- like your body was his, and you were driving him into wonderful, amazing floods of sensation. And that was with your Souls mostly separate, just bouncing off of each other in some apparently rare and unique way amongst Monster couples! What would this feel like? What would it be like to direct a being who wielded your Soul like a god-weapon, performing miracles at your command?

It made you bite your lip for a moment when he raised his hands just a bit, locking his thumbs in the groove of your thighs and the rest of his fingers around your hips. “AHHHH…SEE I TOLD YOU, BUNNY. IT IS A KINDA HOT IDEA…AT LEAST JUST TO THINK ABOUT.” You could feel him half-hard beneath you, slowly swelling in size and magic. 

Everything had felt so desperate lately, so rife. Even the moments the two of you came together like this had felt changed with the darkness of recent events. But now, as your man glowed with a bit of unintended flattery, titillated by the crazy idea you'd come up with yet so incredibly careful with you that he didn't dare to explore it further yet, you wanted nothing more than to be close to him just for the happiness of his happiness.

His touch was feather-light as he traced the fingertips of one hand, now as carefully padded with magic as he could possibly make them, down to where the line of your underwear sat in the join of your thigh and mound. “...DO YOU REMEMBER THIS? THE FIRST TIME YOU CAME OVER?” 

You knew you were blushing; that's how memorable that night had been for you. “...how could I forget?” Leaning forward a bit, you draped your arms over his shoulders. “Hot new guy, a Monster no less…and he does that for me?”

He scoffed at your words, tickling along the gusset of your panties. “I DIDN'T KNOW ANYTHING THEN. UGH. I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU SAW IN ME.” 

“Yet who made me come twice, hm?” You practically purred the words into his jaw, your hips moving in subconscious, helpless little circles as you tried to make his touch firmer against where you really wanted it. “Who blew my mind like nothing ever had before?”

He was blushing tangerine. “I…IN MY PANTS, FOR HEAVENS SAKE, LIKE SOME DUMB KID-”

“I know… such a waste that it wasn't in me. ” You reached down, bullying his hand away and pulling your underwear to the side enough to make room… while he pushed his waistband down enough for his magic to bounce free. Tilting your hips the tiniest bit, you caught the head of his now rock-hard length in your entrance. “What would you have done, huh? If the big, bossy human girl had just gotten on top and taken it?”

Desire started to overrule anything else- your man let his head fall back against the cushion behind him, spreading his legs a little and thrusting up into you in tiny, shallow motions. “YOU WENT HOME THE NEXT MORNING, AND I MUST HAVE J-JERKED OFF TEN TIMES THAT DAY BY MYSELF IMAGINING THAT. I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING, IT WAS RIDICULOUS. ALL I HAD TO DO WAS THINK ABOUT YOU…”

Shivering with how good it felt, you let yourself slide down his length until he bottomed out inside of you, your body flush with his. “Oh god…” It was such a rich, satisfying sensation, feeling him fully within you. 

He closed his eyes, stilling you for a moment with an iron grip on your waist. “HOLD ON, FOR A SECOND. JUST LET ME FEEL THIS.”

You bit your lip, relaxing as best as you could and feeling his weight and warmth inside you. Feeling how a part of you that was usually so protected, so tucked away and secure, was now so wonderfully stretched wide, that his length inside you made you aware of your own depth. Slowly, luxuriously, he used that same grip on your waist to lift you, then sink you back down again…and again…and again. So slow that you couldn't help but moan each time that you felt him split you open in the sweetest way. 

You broke- “Oh god honey please , don't tease right now I…I…”

He smiled, his eyes still closed, and let go of your hips. “ALRIGHT THEN…GO AHEAD.” Sliding one hand up his own shirt, he began tracing his fingertips down his sternum. “HAVE FUN.”

“Nasty, dirty Skeleton…” You leaned forward, bracing yourself on his shoulders and trapping his hand between your bodies. “Perverted…” Humming with pleasure, you slowly found a bouncing, shivering rhythm atop of him. Over and over, ever since being with him that very first time, you'd wondered silently at how easy it was to be with the man- emotionally, yes, of course, but also physically. He was so slim that your legs barely had to be spread to be atop him- your thighs never burned or got tired. His belly, being completely concave, meant you could drape yourself forward and prop your hands on his shoulders without smushing him at all. It was almost vulgar- in a sweet way -how easy it was to make love with him. As if he'd been made for it somehow. 

After a few building moments, you dropped your forehead to his shoulder, your breath beginning to catch, and started to grind down on him back and forth. “I'm sorry,” you murmured, your voice cracking. “I know the other way feels better for you, b-but…oh, Py, oh-”

“WHAT FEELS GOOD IS FEELING YOU LIKE THIS AROUND ME…KNOWING THAT I DID IT.” God you loved it when his voice got a little rougher- not a human’s throatiness, but a literal crackling, breaking undertone, as if he was having trouble focusing on the magic he used to speak. “I NEVER, NEVER THOUGHT…THAT SOMEONE LIKE YOU WOULD BE LIKE THIS BECAUSE OF ME.” He put a hand on your lower back, under your shirt. “IT'S CRAZY BUNNY, JUST ABSOLUTELY BONKERS, AND…AH, F-”

He cut himself off, and you felt your own lips split in a huge, astonished grin even as your toes curled with sensation; he'd started to gently thrust his hips up into you as you rocked back and forth, grinding your clit against the base of his cock while its thickness inside you made you moan. “Oh my goodness, did you almost just swear honey? My good, innocent Skeleton man, saying a dirty word?” 

The way his hand dropped to grip your ass hard, speeding your movement as the other fondled your breasts, was the complete opposite of innocent- his soft, hot laugh a cherry on top. “WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEANT…I…OH BUN, I’M CLOSE, YOU FEEL SO GOOD…”

“Then cum inside me,” you whispered, sucking a blushed little bruise into the bare side of his neck. “Go ahead, it's so hot when you do, I love it.”

“AH…” He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling for a second. Feeling terribly in love and terribly turned on, you slid a hand up his shirt and tangled your fingers in his ribs- something that would have seemed so morbid, once, but was now a motion full of such affection and desire that it felt as natural as breathing. His Soul sparked that rare, precious connection between the two of you as it settled gossamer-soft against your skin, nestling right between your fingers, and you had to hide a smile in his shoulder at his reaction. Papyrus's back arched as he felt himself inside you- he groaned, shivery and clutching at your skin, the groan cracking into a whine as you started riding him in earnest to seek your own pleasure. 

“You never thought…you'd find something like this?” God, he felt so good; it was incredible every time this happened. The phantom sensation of his magic spearing you open, wet and hot and tight and gripping… the sweet torture of pulling back again, knowing that was the only way to get the thick, heady enjoyment of another thrust forward…you loved this connection between the two of you, loved feeling what he could feel, loved him. “Love, all you had to do was find me.” 

Something about your words, or the feel of your body, thrilled him- he cried out, his voice tight in his throat, and grabbed you to kiss you messily, gracelessly, while he started to come. It was beautiful- he had to tear himself away to gasp in quick breaths, yet couldn't stand to be away from your lips, and the desperation of the motion (and the reflected pleasure of his completion) was making you close…oh god, so close…

He gripped your ass with both hands, moaning through his teeth in overwhelm, and used your soft flesh to bounce you harder and faster than you could yourself, and it was so delicious that you felt tears rise in the corners of your eyes for a second. “Yes…yes, oh god, Py…!”

Your thighs shook so hard that they rattled the couch, while you buried your teeth in the soft cotton covering his shoulder, and he soothed you through it with his gentle hands on your back. Your sweet, kind man- always so gentle, always so good, making you feel amazing. The orgasm rushed through you, from your toes to your fingertips and back again, and you trusted him to hold you together while you fell apart.

A few minutes later the two of you stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed giggling and breathless next to each other, the soft golden shine of the net above you highlighting his handsome face as he pulled you in close, whispering nonsense and love into your hair.

Things were bad, yes. But they were also so, so good.