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Chapter Text

Alphys and Undyne had been dating since the Underground, and they were the cutest couple Frisk had ever seen. Undyne’s smothering hugs and confidently flirtatious confessions were a staple in their shared household. Alphys’s fangirl-ing and rambling about whatever her girlfriend had done to catch her interests were also a regular occurrence.

Asgore and Toriel, although resigned from the romantic world, had laid their grievances to rest and had been attempting to bond (although not very successfully) for the sake of their little ambassador and their son-turned-soulless-flower.

Papyrus and Mettaton, a new item as far as Frisk knew, were also a welcome sight to behold. Exuberant shows of love and admiration, constant dates to the wildest of places (even if they weren’t strictly allowed in), their love for one another was almost comical.

Frisk themselves had not found anyone of interest, but they were very eagerly honing their romancing skills.

It had been a few days ago they had realized the Legendary Fartmaster himself had no romantic partner.

Their nose scrunched in distaste, this simply could not do! Everyone loved their Dunkle, he was easy-going, funny, sociable, and ‘fun-sized’ as he had once jokingly called himself. Maybe he wasn’t everybody’s ideal partner, but there had to be someone out there for him. Especially now that they had 8 billion more options now that they were free.

They asked their Mom why he was still single, and she simply replied her friend had never shown much Interest in anybody during the time she knew him. Smiling, she also warned against pressuring him into romance, as he had a tendency to disappear for a few days if anything became too complicated for him.

Frisk nodded along, constructing a masterful plan to (respectfully) introduce their Dunkle to the romance game.

—

“P-A-P, why is Sans single?”

Holding back a rather rude laugh, Papyrus found himself stunned by the human’s bold question.

“GREETINGS TO YOU TOO, HUMAN. AS TO THE ANSWER OF YOUR QUESTION I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, …DO NOT HAVE AN ANSWER BECAUSE I HAVEN’T THE FAINTEST IDEA AS TO THE AFFAIRS OF MY BROTHER’S ROMANTIC LIFE!”

“Oh, um… do you know if he’s ever shown any romantic attraction, like, a crush?”

“ERR, I VAGUELY RECALL HIM HAVING CRUSHES, YES…BUT THEY NEVER REALLY SEEMED SERIOUS. WHY DO YOU ASK?”

They explained their recent revelation regarding Sans, and how he must feel lonely without a partner.

“AH, A NOBLE CAUSE FOR CONCERN! YES, I SHALL DO WHATEVER I CAN TO ASSIST YOU TO CURE MY BROTHER OF HIS SINGLENESS! If he wants to find a partner of course…”

—

“uh, thanks for yer concern bro, but, uh….” Sans, taken aback, struggled through his words.

“…I’m not interested, like, at all in romance. or sex.”

“AH. THAT…MAKES SENSE IN HINDSIGHT!”

The air seemed to spontaneously gain density, causing sweat to roll down Frisk’s face as they realized their miscalculation.

“YOO PUNKS, WHATCHU GUYS UP TO????” Undyne bellowed from the second floor, precariously hanging from the railing.

“UNDYNE??? WHAT ARE YOU DOING??? THAT’S VERY DANGEROUS??????”

“ONLY IF YOU’RE A WUSS! YOU A LITTLE WUSS PAPS?!?!”

“NYEH, ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!!” Papyrus quickly joined Undyne’s hazardous (although not for them, considering they could pummel each other into the ground and still walk away with only a few scuff marks) endeavors.

Glad to have the attention off him, Sans leaned even further back into his corner of the couch, huffing out a laugh before closing his eyes.

Tugging on his sleeve, Frisk apologized for disturbing his nap with their personal questioning. He pat their head and told them to go make sure neither of the two hanging off the rails hurt each other too bad.

Smiling, Frisk (attempted) to do exactly that.

Chapter Text

In the quiet slums of Last Home, buttercups bloomed and finches sung for Frisk’s family.

Undyne and Papyrus had gone off to train for the upcoming charity marathon, Toriel was grading papers at the dinner table, Asgore was pruning out in their small backyard garden…and their Dunkle was watching that animated dog movie about a fast dog with Greater and Lesser Dog, Doggo, Dogamy and Dogaressa, and Endogeny melted in a puddle around them.

Dogamy and Dogaressa were absolutely enthralled by their shared ability to pet one another, their paws clumsily yet lovingly bonking each other while they giggled (at least, that’s what Frisk assumed the Dog Monsters were trying to do. It sounded more like panting but the AC was turned on so they weren’t hot…). Greater and Lesser were leaning forward precariously while barking in response to the more emotionally charged scenes. Doggo, normally quite paranoid of large crowds, was nodding off while Sans was flopped on his lap.

An easy smile on his face, their Dunkle mumbled dog and bone puns to their blind friend while he munched on dog treats, attempting not to choke with restrained laughter. Dogaressa side-eyed the two, winking when Doggo faced her direction after sensing BS afoot.

Noting Frisk’s lingering on the stairs, Toriel softly ambled over and whispered a polite question as to what they were doing. Frisk whispered back ‘they’re so cute ohmygod I just wanna-‘, followed by a squeezing motion. Huffing out a resigned yet happy laugh, Toriel asked their little matchmaker if they wanted some homemade apple sauce. They enthusiastically agreed.

Noticing their interaction, Sans quietly asked Doggo if he was willing to bet how long it would take for their friends to figure out they were dating. Doggo said over 3 months, and Sans, unfortunately forced by his secondary justice trait, fairly took the other end and betting under 3 months.

Doggo nuzzled Sans’s bald head before suffocating him with his dog breath, as Sans would have you believe.

Chapter Text

Dear Diary,

Um, hi. Uh, I guess it’s kinda dumb to talk to a diary-not that I’m calling YOU dumb or anything- but uhm y-yeah.

SO, my mom wanted me to write down my thoughts and stuff here, and…I don’t really know what to say. She has good in-intentions, but. Uh.

Oh, and she mentioned something about my Barbie collection (you know those pink girl dolls in the dump sometimes) and it’s NOT weird! It’s…VERY NORMAL!!! Uh. YEAH!

-

Dear Diary,

Day 2, uh, Bratty and Catty dragged me out to the mall today. They mostly j-just bought these REALLY pretty clothes for each other (omg they’re so sweet) and I thought they would y’know just ignore me. But, they (omg this is so cringey) actually cared? Like, they gave me this makeover and bought me this nice black dress with white spots and. I-I’m literally cryingg rn I love them so much. Platonically.

-

Dear Diary,

So…It’s been a while. I figured some stuff about myself. Im gay. Lmao, that sounds fucking hilarious. But yeah! We like girls, real men are just a bit ugh. But our depression and self-hatred is a little bit sparklier now. Oh, and Bratty and Catty apparently have known for like a while. I can’t believe they didn’t tell me, but Im so glad they think Im… good. A good person.

-

Dear Diary,

I’m the Royal Scientist now. And I think I’m in love with Undyne. Y’know, the CAPTAIN OF THE FUCKING ROYAL GUARD. Ohmygodimsoscreweddhoubvhe;odbfurbv;u.

Ahem, my ramen’s ready now. G-gonna go watch Mew Mew Kissy Cutie again.

Um, bye.

-

Dear Diary,

we’re dating.

Chapter Text

After dedicating his life to the survival of Monsterkind and getting shattered across spacetime, becoming his boyfriend’s hoodie was not what he expected to be doing on a Tuesday afternoon.

“think quieter, bud. i’m watching Mythbusters.”

Sorry.

…

Do I look good as a hoodie?

“cute as a button. makes me feel like a real boy, etc, etc.”

Bubbling, Gaster detached a small part of himself to look face to face with Sans.

“ur blocking Adam Savage, move.”

But you’re so pretty like this?

Sans raised an eyebrow at that comment, rising to a comical degree as Gaster refused to elaborate.

“pretty when I’m like what?” He finally relented.

You look so content, in your body…mind…everything really. It’s nice to see.

“my ass is probably ‘nice to see’ because you’ve been stuck in between realities for the last decade or so.” He retorted, shifting in his spot on the couch.

It is.

Unimpressed, Sans manipulated space-time to end up on the other side of the couch (now conveniently naked, Gaster’s libido supplied). Sticking out his summoned tongue, he fully flattened himself to the cushions while raising the volume of his program a few notches, evidently prickly at Gaster’s compliments.

Sighing to himself, he ‘sat’ and appreciated his charming bone friend as he picked at his nasal cavity with his pinky phalange.

Chapter Text

Magic-imbued gears the sizes of a fist to a semi truck’s tire circle in seemingly endless waves above W.D. Gaster. It was a rather odd place to invite his laid-back boyfriend to, especially for an occasion like this, but he wanted to make their little getaway all the more memorable.

Although he could do without the smoke.

Wiping away tears from his working eye with an auxiliary hand, he straightens his coat for the millionth time, turning over the black velvet box his its right pocket.

His empty palms were slightly saturated with excess magic as he waited for Sans to arrive. He’d always leaned towards the socially-repulsed side of the spectrum, especially when it comes to expressing his emotions, but tonight he was determined to push past his usual reservations.

A faint smell of ozone and disinfectant welcomes his nasal aperture as his assistant entered the CORE, and it almost felt as though his soul had fallen out of rhythm, beating far too fast for his liking. Sans blessed him with an easy smile, never failing to calm his nerves.

“sup, G. srry i’m late, tibia honest i got a bit of shut-eye in before gettin heckled by Paps to get my bony butt up off the couch, heh” Sans provided his smalltalk, soon after leaning in to give Gaster a quick kiss on the cheekbone.

"No worries," he replied, flushing a light shade of purple. "I'm just glad you're here."

They walked over towards the internal control of the CORE, settling into their seats and bringing the machine out of its passive stage. Gaster fidgeted with a few inputs, ever the perfectionist, while trying to find the right words to start off the conversation with. Finally, he took a deep breath and cleared his false throat.

“Sans, there's something I've been wanting to talk to you about," he begun, voice shaky.

Sans spun in his chair to face him, soft curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“ ‘k, what's on your mind?"

Taking another breath, the royal scientist steeled himself.

"Well, I am sure you are aware how much you mean to me, yes? You are... you are the missing piece of my life’s theory, the one I never knew I needed until you stepped into the admissions office and demanded to speak to me about an error you had found in one of my textbooks, hah…”

Sans chuckled, expression softening yet locked on Gaster’s.

"I know I am not fully proficient in personal expression, but... but I love you, Sans. More than anything," he continued, voice growing steadier with every uttered word. "And I want to spend the rest of my existence making you as content as you make me."

Sans’s eyelights guttered out for a brief, terrifying moment, but then a beautiful smile tugged at the corners of his permanent grin.

“y’ saying what I think you're saying?" He asked, .

Nervous to the point of rattling, he tentatively brought the ring’s box out and opened it. "Yes. Sans, will you marry me?"

His smile expanded into a radiant smile, and he reached across the moment of infinity to take Gaster’s trembling hand in his own.

“yes, Gaster,” He whispered, filled with emotion.

“a thousand times yes…” his voice cracked as the edges of his eye sockets became watery.

Tears of joy well up in his own eye as well, his fiancé pulling him into a tight embrace.

In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of his magnum opus and the gentle hum of the cooling system and turbines, all of his fears and insecurities disintegrated, vaporized into a trillions of minuscule shreds. He knew no matter what challenges lay ahead of them, as long as they were together they would survive anything.

Chapter Text

Yellow cushions laying on top of black steel chairs, a barebones cafe with unfinished walls was the background of a new café that had appeared a few stores down from Grillby’s.

Sans, swathed in a grey hoodie and actual sneakers this time, and his ever-formally-dressed fiancé, Gaster, sat facing each other, eagerly awaiting their friends’ arrivals as they felt their secret burning between them. Exchanging knowing glances, their souls beat with anticipation for tonight’s purpose…the day which would mark the moment they would unveil their hidden promise to the world.

Papyrus and and the Captain of the Royal Guard arrived first, the former groomed to perfection and eagerly embracing his brother and soon-to-be-in-law, although he did not know it yet. Undyne slapped the larger two skeletons on their backs while offering a fist bump to her former sentry.

As they took seats in a beanbag and another chair respectfully, Alphys and Mettaton made their ways into the gathering. Mettaton air kissed Gaster and pat the comedian on his bald head before confidently sitting on top of Papyrus. Papyrus had a surprisingly normal reaction, as if this were a common thing between them, while Alphys awkwardly waved and sat on the ground next to Undyne. Undyne promptly muscled her onto her lap.

Toriel, Asgore, Grillby, Frisk, and Flowey entered next, the goat monsters taking caution not to bonk their foreheads on the doorframe on the way in. Flowey was promptly deposited into the indoor terrarium being installed next to the ordering station. It was currently just soil, but Flowey seemed to prefer that. The adults politely shared hands with the others while Frisk immediately began punning with Sans, much to his delight.

Surrounded by their closest friends, the air buzzed with a fond warmth and smiles filled the room. Cups of orange juice, water, coffee, and tea clinked, voices intertwining in a symphony of joy.

Amidst the revelry, Sans and Gaster shared sly glances, their eyesockets shining with unspoken revelations.

As the evening unfolded, Gaster rose from his seat, soul pounding with false nerves. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of their friends, who turned to him with eager looks.

"Thank you all for being here tonight, I know integration to the Surface has been taxing on all of us, especially you two” he motioned to the Dreemurrs, voice ever so slightly shaky. “Sans and I have something special to share with all of you—a secret we've kept for perhaps a slightly longer time than anticipated."

After soft laughter died down, Gaster looked on as Sans’s gaze never wavered from him. Taking his auxiliary hand in his own, Sans entwined their phalanges and uttered reassurance meant only for them.

“Although pleasant, we have not invited you all for mere celebration," Gaster continued, his working eye glistening with tears of love. They seemed shocked to see the normally stoic man so emotional, but as he uttered his following words, “We're here to share the joy of a promise made and a love that knows no bounds…”, the more perceptive few gasped quietly.

Metacarpals trembling, Sans slipped the ring made of two swirling clusters of silver embedded with sapphires from his left hand, its glimmer capturing the attention of their friends. Astonishment and realization dawned, and grins and shouts spread like wildfire across the gathering.

“Y’guys can stop asking us if we’re engaged now. we were getting bone-tired of it, heh.” Sans drawled, his voice filled with his own brand of elation.

Congratulations burst fourth, hugs were exchanged, and the group enveloped the fiances in a whirlwind of celebration. Amidst the joviality, Sans and Gaster found themselves lost in each other's embrace, the burden of their hidden confession now revealed for all to see.

Much later, the evening later drew to a close as the two lingered in the glow of their friends' company, the souls resonating with the natural positivity for the love that surrounded them. For in that moment, accompanied by jokes and shared stories, the lovers knew their love was a beacon of HoPe, a testament to the determination of love.

Chapter Text

Muffet, although disappointed by no longer being permitted to monopolize an entire industry and sub-section of the economy, had set up a new gothic bakery on the same block as the new Grillby’s.

Ornate silver mirrors filled with illusion magic, chattering skulls helpfully provided by Monsterkind’s mascot, Papyrus, and violet spiderwebs in every corner; a common sight in her store. Yet as of now, it was replaced by holographic coatings on the furniture, titanium quartz candles and various decorations, and a progressive pride flag one of her aunts had found at one of those big human stores (so much room to be filled with spider folk… it was her dream to own property as spacious as that, although it would need significant redecorating…). The immense struggle gay humans have had to go through made almost made Muffet shed a tear, it was incredibly tragic and she hoped to make the next few generations of humans feel welcomed by their kind.

She had opened up her “Rainbow Dreams” selection just about a week ago, and the aroma of freshly baked pastries happily mingled with the sweet scent of love, every treat was baked with a sprinkle of pride and a dash of inclusivity, as the short blurb at the front of the counter stated.Pastries ranging from the common donuts, cupcakes and pies to the fancier ardechois, eclair, and flan, a grand selection of treats were available for the beautiful spectrum of human identity.

On a quiet morning, Muffet noticed a young human peering through the bakery window, a curiously hesitant expression wrinkling his fleshy face. With a fanged smile, Muffet waved a gloved hand or two to beckon the potential customer inside, where the air was filled with the tantalizing scent of vanilla and sugar rather than the gasoline and muck of the city. The human’s two eyes widened in surprise which soon melted into embarrassment as they walked in and a little chime rung above head.

He softly smiled as took in the colorful display of rainbows adorning the walls. Muffet again noted the hesitation in the boy’s demeanor and gently asked, “Hello Dearie~, is there something special you happen to be looking for?”

He flinched before whispering, "I... I'm not sure if I belong here."

Confused, she asked him why ever he wouldn’t belong at her establishment. Perhaps she had offended some unknown human custom?

He stuttered as he said it wasn’t anything to do with her or her wonderful establishment, that he was merely new to his romantic preferences. Muffet’s heart went out to the boy, and she knew exactly what to do.

Reaching behind the counter, she pulled out a tray of unfrosted cupcakes, ones she had already been planning to transform into a masterpiece.

“Y’know, if you aren’t busy I needed an extra 7th and 8th hand with these…could you be a sweetheart and help an old lady out?" She causally suggested, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

Accepting, Muffet lead the boy, Alex as she had learned, and set to work. She showed him the where the bags of frosting were stored and how to attach various piping nozzles to said bags. She then showed him some easier techniques to decorating them, and complimented him as he carefully decorated each cupcake with pride. With every swirl of frosting and sprinkle of glitter, Alex's confidence seemed to double, his hands steadying and a determined look setting in his warm eyes.

Working side by side, she shared stories of acceptance, reminding Alex that he were perfect just the way he was. By the time she would usually hand over customer duty to one of her cousins in the back, the cupcakes had came out to be as dazzling and as unique as the person who’d created them.

Alex watched the spider monster delicately place each beauty at the front, and felt a tentative joy spread through his heart. He knew that he’d found a place to belong, surrounded by non-judgmental and quite entertaining arachnid co-workers.

From that day forward, Alex became a regular visitor to Muffet’s bakery, year-round, and together, they continued to spread love and acceptance, one delicious treat at a time, the scent of freshly baked cupcakes wafted through the nearby air of their little corner of Ebott.

Chapter Text

Alphys, soul falling out of its stuttering rhythm, raked her blunt claws across the delicate lace of her wedding gown. Entirely hand-crafted, small details from cat ears to various polka dots to a robotic wrench arm were woven into the outermost layer of her dress. She let her trembling gaze fall upon the mirror she had been placed in front of, staring in awe while trying not to cry with this whirlwind of emotions she felt.

"Hey, relax sweetheart, I can hear you panicking from over here!” Undyne stage-whispered (about as quiet as she could get really) from behind the closed door of the dressing room.

“E-easy for y-you to say," the lizard monster replied with a nervous giggle. "You're not…not t-the one about to walk d-down the a-a-aisle in front of EVERYONE we know…”

Undyne swung open the door, blindfolded (when in the world h-had she done that?) and crossed the room in a few long strides, her teeth sharp and pretty and so tender as she took her soon-to-be wife’s hands in hers.

“Babe, listen to me. You're the most BEAUTIFUL person, the SMARTEST, and the COOLEST nerd I've ever known, inside and out. Nothing else matters today except YOU and ME.” She (relatively) softly spoke.

Alphys, still jittery, felt her nerves begin to ease at her fiancé’s words.

"I love you, y-you know t-that?" She tried to steady herself.

Undyne smooched her on her left cheek, "I DO. And I'm the LUCKIEST person in the world because of it."

Their moment was interrupted by an enthusiastic knock on the door, signaling that their ring bearer / best man / event planner was telling them it was time to begin. With one last reassuring pat on Alphys’s spiked head, Undyne took a deep breath and prepared to face the moment she had been dreaming of.

She immediately walked into a wall due to the blindfold, but she made her way out eventually.

A few minute later, after their footsteps went quiet and a rumble of applause reached her oiled scales… it was time for her to walk down the aisle.

With a glint in her eyes, one of the determination befitting of the last Royal Scientist, one who had found a way to cheat death, Alphys stared with a unique strength into her Undyne’s golden eye and white eyepatch. And when they finally stood together, facing each other beneath the arch of sweet peas, tulips, ranunculus, daffodils, clematis, and lilacs, it felt like the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them.

"I didn’t think I could ever have enough luck to find to marry the most beautiful woman in the world," Undyne whispered as they both became flustered.

Smiling through tears of joy, Alphys responded: "And I…I never knew I could love s-someone as fiercely as I love you."

With those words, they sealed their love with a kiss, surrounded by the cheers and applause of their loved ones. And as they danced together under the starlit sky, they knew that their love would prosper with their hopes and dreams of a better tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Down Main Street, Ebott City held its Pride Parade in the heart of the only city inhabited by monsters and humans alike.

Although not a particularly large festival, the princes of Monsterkind and the ambassador had waited eagerly to turn the parade into something truly unforgettable, their interpretations of memorable varying by person.

After permission had reluctantly been granted by their Mom, who was mildly concerned due to the number of people who would be in such a crowded place, was reassured by the promise of supervision by some younger school teachers Toriel had spoken to in passing.

Together they adventured forth, Chara, with her contagious laughter and rainbow-colored wig; Frisk, whose flamboyant sweater turned heads wherever they went, and Asriel, quiet yet fiercely supportive.

"Guys, this is going to be epic!" Chara yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the parade to begin.

“Yes, you got that right!" Frisk happily signed in agreement, adjusting their sequined sweater with a mildly-sweaty flourish.

"I've got my confetti locked and loaded, and you?” Chara questioned Asriel.

Mischeviously smiling, Asriel hefted up his cannon.

“Let's make sure we spread love everywhere we go!!!” he responded.

…

As the parade kicked off with a blast of music and cheers, the siblings found themselves swept up in the sea of revelry.

“Holy Crud it’s loud!" Asriel bleated over the music blasting so loud the lyrics were unintelligible, his black eyes wide with anticipation.

"I know, right????” Chara replied, his high voice joining the cheering chorus they were surrounded with.

"But you know what would make it even better???”

“What???” Frisk signed high above their short head, though it was unclear whether that was a response to Chara’s question or a mere expression of confusion.

“ CONFETTI!!!” Chara screamed regardless, pulling out a bag of shredded wrapping paper in various hues of the rainbow. With maniacal laughter, they fired with mercilessly on the unsuspecting crowd, eliciting laughter and cheers in short bursts from the now sparkly attendees near them.

"Not bad, Chara, not bad," Asriel said, nodding in approval. "But you know what this needs? More BUBBLES!”

Before anyone could protest, Asriel unleashed a translucent bombardment of glittering bubbles into the air, catching sunlight and turning into a dazzling spectacle that lit up the sky.

Quickly, Frisk and Chara joined forces to start a conga line in retaliation, weaving their way through the crowd with infectious positivity.

“COME ON YOU COWARDS! JOIN US!” Chara called out, waving their stubby arms in the air.

Endeared by the two, they were hastily joined by kind strangers who linked arms and danced alongside them, forming a spontaneous parade within the parade. Parade-ception… Parade-boros? They’d ask their Dunkle about the name later, but for now they had a Pride to Parade!!!

Chapter Text

A towering mammoth of a city, guarded by two immense steel gates and overlooked by the keep crowned with a massive glass eye, rolled into view as Lord Gaster’s host made its way back from a hunting outing.
Although relatively secluded due to its location above a great rocky mountain protected by snowmelt come summer and colossal ice walls in the winter, it was the frequently vacated for both trade and the endless game of politics. Amidst the coldest noble court lived Qarmic Sans, cunning, charming, young — yet talented in the war of diplomacy.

From a young age she had been taught the importance of her house, from its status as the true house of skeletons, conquerers of the Serif tyrants, its military prowess, its familiarity with the ragged mountains and valleys of the northern lands, … she had memorized it all. She would never inherit the lands unless a cataclysmic event occurred, and even if she did, her abysmal HP and undesirable stamina would ruin her. But she knew how to kiss the dusty hands of warlords, scarred hands of common folk, and powdered hands of nobles alike. She knew how to weave her way through the snake pit of the kingdom.

Yet despite her knowledge, her guarded soul harbored a secret she knew would shatter the fragile peace of her house, so newly accustomed to battles of wit opposed to rebellion. Oh yes, behind her elegant poise and sophisticated smile, she knew she was not who her parents claimed her to be.

…

Qarmic paced her cooling chambers washed in a sickening lightness from her opened window, mind ablaze with thoughts of the revelation she knew she had to come to terms to. She turned to her younger brother, Papyrus, heir to their homelands and a man who shone so brightly with honorable, naive care.

“papyrus, there's something i need to tell you," she started, her vocal frequencies barely above a low hum.

“WHAT IS IT, SISTER?” He asked, browbone furrowing in faked confusion. She knew he would learn to refine his facade soon enough, he was only a boy still.

“i am not the sister you think I am," she confessed, trembling soul beating hesitantly in her thin ribcage. “i’ve lived a lie, pretending to be someone I can no longer claim to be."

Papyrus regarded her with a mixture of shock and honest puzzlement. “IS THIS SOME JEST OF YOURS, QARMIC? YOU- You are my sister, are you not?” He softened his voice, mind likely consumed in a great storm of theorization, the queer boy he was.

She was embarrassingly overcome with an old stinging in her eye sockets. She knew her brother would not think of her any less, he had made that clear throughout his years of compassion and unwavering altruism, but her mind played no role in her gut-scraping fear.

“no, papyrus. i am not your sister.”

“i’m your brother… my name is Sans.”

His bright demeanor dimmed in disbelief, struggling to comprehend the truth of his sister's revelation. "But... BROTHER, WHY DID YOU NOT INFORM ME SOONER? YOU SURELY KNOW I COULD NOT POSSIBLY THINK OF YOU LESS FOR THE TITLE YOU WISH TO BEAR? YOUR ABHORRENT JAPES WOULD DRAG YOU DOWN A THOUSAND FOLD MORE THAN YOUR GENDER. I THINK GENDER IS RIDICULOUS ANYHOW-”

“i’m afraid, papyrus,” Sans admitted, rattling with emotion. “you know what will come of this. father would never accept it, less so the other nobles, the king… they’d see me a fool, or mad, or disinherit me. i’ll be locked away, humiliated, maybe even exiled. I cannot risk that, you must understand. I cannot-“

“YOU CANNOT LIVE A LIE, BROTHER,” Papyrus interjected. “YOU DO NOT HAVE TO ANNOUNCE THIS TO THE KINGDOM, EVEN I KNOW THERE WOULD BE UNFAVOURABLE CONSEQUENCES, BUT YOU CANNOT HIDE AWAY FOREVER. YOU WILL GO MAD WITH PARANOIA AND FEAR, I KNOW YOU WILL. TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS, NO MATTER HOW DESPERATE FOR SAFETY AND POWER, YOU SHOULD KNOW YOUR OWN SELF IS YOUR GREATEST ENEMY. DO NOT SUCCUMB, BROTHER. I WILL STILL LOVE YOU, FOREVER AND ALWAYS.”

…

The following evening, Sans gathered his courage and sat his lord father and lady mother down to share his truth. At his confession, they stared in stunned silence as their daughter revealed the secret he had kept hidden for so very long.

"I do not understand, Qarmic,” his father coldly stated, voice filled with quiet apprehension. “Is this some trick? How could you deceive us like this. It is certainly not amusing.”

“i do not lie here, Father," Sans replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging within him. “i cannot continue to live my life as a false woman. i am no maiden, nor will i ever be a wife, nor will i ever grow into a wisened old woman. i am sorry you have fallen for my body’s lie, but i must be honest with my lord and lady."

Lady Sans reached out to her son, kind eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Qarmic. Why did you not come to us sooner? We would have assisted you no matter what ailment befell you.”

Releasing some tension from his posture and taking his mother's hand in his own, he let his soul trill a whispered note of gratitude. “thank you, mother. thank you for understanding."

His father excused himself to his bed chambers, claiming the hunt had exhausted him. The look in his functional eye was dark and moody, and sent a chill up Sans’s spine.

---

In the days that followed, Sans was invited on numerous occasions to his father’s chambers. He questioned her, argued with her, until choosing better fights and formulating a plan to ensure unwanted others would not find out his child’s true identity, nor force him to marry another who would damage his image. Although reluctant, her father trusted his child would know who would be safe confidants and who were rats… he would teach him himself if he had to. As much as this kingdom was treacherous and filled with danger, his family came before his own comforts.

And so they looked to the future, hoping for their peace to continue for just another few decades.

Just until they were strong enough to seize the throne.

Chapter Text

The ex-queen of monsters and first monster teacher, Toriel, and Cinnamon, the one and only Snowdin shopkeep, sat on their rickety porch swing, dusk settling into their fur. Toriel sipped her sweet tea, while Cinnamon fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sundress. She looked at her wife and admired the way the sun made her eyes burn a warm hazel, just for her to see. Gaining confidence, Cinnamon started.

“Tor, there's somethin' I been wantin' to talk t’ya ‘bout," she began, her voice hesitant.

The goat monster turned to face her, a a gentle boop of the snoot tickling Cinnamon’s cheek.

"What is it, my dear? You know you may confide within me anything you desire."

She took a deep breath, placing her shaky hands on Tori’s. "Well, I've been thinkin' a lot lately about havin' a few kids. A few more I mean. It's somethin' I've always dreamed of, ever s’nce I held my baby brother in my hands, but...well, I'm worried ‘bout doin' it alone."

Toriel watched her for a queit moment, and gently squeezing Cinnamon’s hand, she replied. "You are not alone, my love. You have me. I vow I will be by your side to make this dream come into fruition."

Relieved tears welled up in Cinnamon’s eyes as she leaned into her love’s welcoming arms. In that moment, she knew that she really had found a kind spirit, a soulmate who’d walk by her side through every bump and pothole in the back of life’s wagon ride.

…

A few weeks later, when they each had a lull in their schedules, the couple sat across from a fertility specialist. Paws intertwined, they listened intently to Dr. Shrub’s words, told in the form of the rustling of his Druidic leaves. Toriel scribbled down small notes, while Cinnamon weathered away at her lower lip.

“I see IVF is likely the best option for you," the doctor explained, his voice calming yet respectable.

Cinnamon nodded, mind running in circles with questions and concerns. "What’re the chances of success? ‘nd what ‘bout potential risks? I-“

The doctor shushed her with a smile. “Success rate is high when couples like you are in good health. Risks… we will monitor your progress… to ensure the best possible outcome."

Cinnamon let out a rather adorable huff, feeling a glimmer of hope begin to blossom within her. “Alrighty then, let's do it."

Toriel squeezed her hand, eyes shining with Determination. We're in this together, no matter how strong the storm’s winds are.”

…

“It’s really happening…” Cinnamon muttered to herself as stood in the doorway of the nursery.

Toriel, having had the experience of multiple children beforehand, began to mentally calculate the logistics of furniture placement, and went downstairs to go grab a tape measure. Cinnamon’s creative spirit bubbled with ideas for décor and design. Fox, they’d have the cutest baby room.

"I say we place the crib over here, right by the door,” Toriel suggested, pointing to her left where a simple wall with stood.

Cinnamon nodded, eyes bright with enthusiasm. "And we c’n hang some fairy lights ‘bove it t’ add a touch o’ magic."

Toriel smiled, admiring her wife’s imaginative vision. “That sounds perfect, dear. Although we will have to secure it out of reach of the baby.” She replied.

After staring for a moment, she continued. “What are your opinions on a rocking chair? For late-night feedings.”

Cinnamon clapped her hands together, grin spread wide across her face. "Oh, we definitely need a cozy little rocker. An’ we can put it right ‘ere, by the crib.”

Together, they planned out where to place the dresser, toy box, and changing station so the furniture would most easily secured to the wall. Toriel had eventually finished noting down the dimensions of each section, and Cinnamon got to work finding safe wall paint for their little Soul.

Laughter filled the room, so full of potential, as they imagined the joy that would soon fill their home.

Chapter Text

In the cold heat of New Home’s underbelly, the Terrible Papyrus and his hound of a brother, Sans, were feared and respected in equal measure. Known as the unflinching enforcers of the Dreemurr crime family’s will, they were a duo whose ruthlessness was matched by none other than their loyalty to each other.

Their loyalty stemmed from a taboo crevice of their scarred souls, they were brother-husbands, after all. Their relationship had grown like Dustweed in Waterfall over their younger years, hidden behind barricaded doors and guarded glances. One evening, as they stood overlooking the city from the rooftop of an abandoned warehouse, Papyrus had broke the creeping silence that had grown to hung between them.

"You've been distant lately, runt,” Papyrus had started, his young voice low with conceited concern. “Is there something you are hiding from me?”

Sans had blown smoke from his eye sockets as he quietly surveyed out at the city lights below.

“aww, you askin’ me ‘bout my feelings? that’s sweet of ya Boss, but there ain’t a lyin’ bone in my body.” He provided his non-answer. They both knew what he wanted to ask, they were just too cowardly to speak it aloud.

Well, one of them was. Papyrus had grown weary of their childish dancing around their interest in each other, he would make Sans confess even if lost a few fingers or an eye over it.

He dug his gloved hand into the link of his brother’s collar, “Prove it to me, Sans. Tell me how you truly feel about me.” He murmured. “Or you will suffer the consequences of disobeying me.”

“hah, you ain’t got the nerve t’ do so, buddy. I might as well-“ And suddenly his face was shoved into the cracked concrete on the rooftop. Papyrus jammed his heel into his cervical vertebrae before repeating his order.

“shit, Boss…” he drawled, giving him his best ‘fuck-me’ look. Unlike his normal flustered retort, his brother’s eyes reddened with renewed fury, which made him want to curl into a ball like a little weasel and hope he wouldn’t be worth the effort of murder today.

They stared with a pressurized tension rising in each of their spines, both ready for another dirt fight. Instead, Sans huffed a low chuckle and uttered words Papyrus had never dared hope to hear.

“i love ya, Boss. like a fuckin’ alcoholic… i’m fuckin’ EXP-bait and you got the goddamn audacity to treat me like your bride. it’s sick and i can’t get enough. fuck you.”

Papyrus was silent for a moment, before responding.

“I’d like to see you try.”

…

And here they were again, on top of that very same warehouse, a few more scars, a few more LVs, and faced again with the deadly silence.

"It's getting…difficult, brother,” Papyrus admitted under his breath, in case they were being watched again. "Keeping us hidden, pretending we are just… partners in crime. I cannot continue much longer."

Sans would have punched him in his nasal aperture for talking to him like he cared, but he’d seen how a stray glance towards each other, just trying to see if the other was dust yet, almost made their nightmares a reality as bullets were hurled towards their backs.

Sans glared at him, hand gripping his brother’s arm. “i know, bro,” he murmured, using that endearment reserved only for private moments. “but we can't risk it. not until we’ve got somewhere better to run than the forests.”

Knowing he was referring to the Surface, that impossible dream dangled above all their heads, Papyrus turned to face him, frustration and longing etched into his greying skull.

"I'm tired of hiding, Sans. We deserve more than this, stolen moments in disgusting corners."

Sans, in turn, sighed heavily. “i know, believe me, i do. but you know what could happen if anyone finds out. we’ve already got a dozen targets on our asses, we don’t need anymore. we-”

The distant sound of approaching footsteps cut through the dusty air.

Instinctively, Papyrus summoned a sharp bone, ready to dust some over-confident fucker who’d wander too close. Sans mirrored him, decades of practice kicking in like second nature.

But it was Catty, their rat in Waterfall, who emerged from the shadows. She thumbed off her smudged lipstick as she approached them, expression neutral.

“Sir, Sans,” she began, voice scraggly as usual yet tense with urgency. "There are rumors circulating among the men. They're starting to talk of treason.”

Papyrus’s jaw clenched, his gaze hardening. “The swines always do, what changed, dear?”

Catty flicked her slitted eyes around the rooftop, ever the suspicious girl, then spoke in a hushed tone. “Undyne didn’t push their skulls in. Nor did the RGs. Nor did the Canines. They didn’t say shit, but it was pretty fuckin’ clear they weren’t gonna intervene.”

Darkness descended, a shroud over the rooftop, as the artificial lights lowered further in the night. The two skeletons exchanged a look fraught with unspoken understanding. They’d have to choose whether they’d face the wrath of their people or the tyrant they’d bled for.

"We need to deal with this," Papyrus said finally, resolute. "Before it becomes a…complication.”

Sans nodded, jaw set in a grim smirk. “yeah no shit.”

After thanking Catty with a few G, they laid low down in Snowdin, keeping their interactions with the king and his treasonous subjects ambiguous to their stance. They knew their people were waiting for the reassurance of the two brothers by their side as opposed to above their dusting souls, but violence was ready to boil over at the slightest shift in the wind.

One night, during a routine meeting with a loyalist faction, betrayal struck like a bolt from the blue. Bullets of every shade whistled past their auditory canals, the crack of their impact echoing in the dimly lit alley.

Papyrus surged forwards, utilizing blue magic to force the enemies to meet his blows while Sans circled the half dozen or so, blasters herding them closer to the center. Their movements were completely different from one another, yet synchronized as they faced down their attackers.

In the heat of battle, as they ducked behind overturned crates for cover, they exchanged a silent communication that spoke volumes—a vow to protect each other, no matter the cost.

When dust was all that remained of the fuckers and the smoke began to clear, they emerged frazzled but still breathing.

As they stood amidst the wreckage of their scuffle, they knew they faced a choice. They could retreat back into the shadows, burying their love once more beneath layers of secrecy and denial. Or they could keep their truth, letting the revolution wash over the Capitol and live quiet(er) lives back in the caverns of Waterfall or the forests of Snowdin, maybe the Ruins…

“let’s get the fuck outta here," Sans rumbled gruffly, breaking the tight air that hung heavy between them.

Placing his hand on his lover’s collar, they ‘ported away from the remnants of their past, forging a new, unmarked, unseen path. They left behind their duties they’d clawed tooth and claw through, finding solace in their hushed life in the shadows. Their love allowed to set tender roots in their souls.

And they disappeared into the artificial night, two blurry figures in silhouette against the soon-to-be decimated New Home skyline, only to be heard of through whispers and encrypted messages.

Chapter Text

King Fluffybuns: @funnybone Congratulations on coming out my friend! I do apologize for not being there, but I wish you the best of luck on your purely romantic adventures :)

funnybone: thankd afgoar

CoolSkeleton95: BROTHER! PLEASE TURN YOUR AUTOCORRECT ON!!!

funnybone: took me a whiel to figure out how tro freidnzone 8 billiosn peopel but i did it lol

TwoToriel: I suppose it may have taken a considerable amount of time to realize you were sans sexy time! ]:)

PurePascifist: [insert gru meme] “in terms of sexual attraction, we have none”

funnybone: hehe

CoolSkeleton95: YOU ARE ALL TERRIBLE INFLUENCES.