Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/11009793. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: F/M, M/M, Multi, Other Fandom: Undertale_(Video_Game) Relationship: Papyrus/Sans_(Undertale), Papyrus_&_Sans_(Undertale), Frisk/Papyrus_ (Undertale), Chara/Papyrus_(Undertale), Papyrus/Undyne_(Undertale), Alphys/Papyrus_(Undertale), Papyrus_(Undertale)/Everyone Character: Papyrus_(Undertale), Chara_(Undertale), Frisk_(Undertale), Sans_ (Undertale), Undyne_(Undertale), Alphys_(Undertale), Mettaton_ (Undertale), Asgore_(Undertale), Toriel_(Undertale) Additional Tags: Big_Brother_Sans, Younger_Brother_Papyrus, I'm_Going_to_Hell, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional_Hurt, Hurt_No_Comfort, Guro, Death, Near_Death Experiences, Suicide, Suicide_Attempt, Implied/Referenced_Suicide, Murder-Suicide, Yandere, Yandere_Papyrus, Yandere_Tropes/Characters, Jealous_Papyrus, Papyrus_Has_Issues, Papyrus_Isn't_Innocent, Gurophilia, Cannibalism, Cannibalism_Play, Poor_Everyone, Mental_Illnesses, undiagnosed_mental_illness, Untreated_Mental_Illness, Alternate_Universe -_Human, Humanoid_Sans, Humanoid_Papyrus, Human_Sans, Human_Papyrus, Oh look_more_BITTW, I_really_should_be_working_on_BICGT, Not_this_bullshit, Incest, Sibling_Incest, One-Sided_Relationship, One-Sided_Attraction, Brother/Brother_Incest, Rape, Rape/Non-con_Elements, Child_Abuse, Mental Health_Issues, Mental_Instability, Torture, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Psychological_Torture, Psychological_Horror, Psychological Warfare, Mental_Breakdown, Everyone_Needs_A_Hug, Papyrus_Remembers Resets, Sans_Remembers_Resets, nonbinary_chara, Nonbinary_Frisk, Agender Chara, Agender_Frisk, Nonbinary_Chara_and_Frisk, Chara_and_Frisk_Share_a Body, Chara_Possessing_Frisk, Gore, Blood_and_Gore, Sexual_Violence, Blood_and_Violence, Non-Consensual_Violence, Knifeplay, Gaster_Doesn't Exist, Pedophilia, Underage_Sex, Necrophilia, Hallucinations, woops_i'm projecting_onto_the_''''protag'''', Drugs, Self-Hatred, Asexual_Papyrus, Animal_Abuse, Drinking_Things_That_Shouldn't_Be_Fucking_Drank, Frisk_goes by_many_names Series: Part 5 of Blood_Is_Thicker_Than_Water Stats: Published: 2017-05-26 Updated: 2017-09-25 Chapters: 13/? Words: 7938 ****** Of Blood and Bones ****** by CryingKitten Summary OBaB is the newest installment of BITTW! In alternative universes, similar things have happened. After all, with each decision comes a new world - and in each world, there is a new decision. Somehow, I'm going to find a way to make this world the worst one of them all. ***** Chapter 0 ***** He turned his head from side to side, hands twitching and grabbing at the snow beneath him.   It's not real, it's not real, it's not real.   He would tell himself thisevery damn day and it had never worked.   Of course it isn't real. It's because he's crazy.   Of course it is real. It's because he's suffering.   No theory or answer hadever been able to have given him closure.   He was breathing heavily, fingers digging deeper and deeper into the icy expanse below.    His hands were going numb, then being covered in the familiar cold burn of ice.   The screams were so loud today. So, so loud.   He opened his eyes, orange, floating circles like pure amber in his empty eyes flicking around.   The screams grew louder, and his breathing grew shallower.   The trees were burnt, the snow covered in gore and blood.    Entrails hung on to the charred, bare branches, sizzling a bit under the heat that had once been there.   He stands at last, a bloody hand reaching out to one tree in particular.   The large intestine, he recognized, was curled and tied into a perfect circle.   He stepped onto the stump below him, in the perfect spot to be a stool, yet he doesn't recognize the crunch of snow below him as his foot sinks further into the stump.   It's tied so intricately, so he steps forward, puts his head through the noose, and drops.   The hallucination is broken as he lands on his feet in the snow, the 'stump' (AKA snow lump, moreso being a snump) crushed behind him.   He breaks down, crying. His tears land in the snow, and his vision turns the softer dots of water intolarge splatters of blood, staining the snow crimson.   As he sobs, body supported on his forearms, he reaches out.   Despite how his upper brain is screaming not to, he sits there, devouring the bloodied snow, handful by handful.   It doesn't satisfy him. ***** Chapter 1 ***** He was smiling brightly the entire way home, eyes crinkled shut.   He knew the path, it's not like he needed to open his eyes for it!   Besides, that only made the visions worse if he acknowledged them.   He laughed happily, chirping out a boisterous 'Hello!' to each person that spoke it first, waving his hand excitedly, as if he were a child.   The smell was rich and deep in his nose as he opened the door, finally opening his eyes.   His stomach churned at both the sight and smell.   The corpses were much less... monster-y this time, but reminded him of himself. The dark, long hair dripping like blood water between the rotting bones of the corpse, dark skin falling apart like a doll's broken stitches, it really upset him.    Well, it used to. By now the stench of blood, gore, and rot was much more dull, and he sounds and sights became less jarring the more he got used to them.   He continued to hum, hiding his anxiety rather well as he made his way to the kitchen.   The dog lay there, in a puddle of its own blood on the stove, fur charred and burnt as flesh dripped off like melting wax.   Despite knowing his mind was messing with him, he still pressed even harder against the switch, double-checking if it was off,though the fire still burned.   He tapped at the counter, reaching to the highest shelf and digging through the objects.   Cans, spices, dead rats, rusting hypodermic needles, broken bones, bloody vomit, intestines-   He broke away from that train of thought, pulling down the box he was looking for.   He quickly glanced around, tensing up momentarily, before pouring the innards of the box out, his hands feeling wet even through the glove as the hard object jangled.   He set the cardboard box down and to the side, on the bloodstained counter, before looking at what he stole.   He counted it out, before opening the small, white bottle, and pouring some of the needles into his hand.    He recounted it, adding a few more. Monsters are different, and he's different, so this must be safe. If he does it right.   He quickly re-sealed the bottle, stuffed it into the small box, then placed it back on the shelf before returning to his position in front of the sink.   He was forced to look up at it, soon just deciding to climb on the counter like he usually did.   It's not like he had any other choice, really.   With his footing secure, he threw his head back and tossed the pills directly into his mouth, before leaning under the tap to help wash them down.   It's a new experience for one and all, considering the fact he's never taken them before, he's never stole something like that before, Alphys hasn't had anyone steal from her before, and Sans had never thought of this before.   He was hoping they'd work soon, not noticing the scratched up label stating how old they were. ***** Chapter 2 ***** Today just so happened to be worse than the others.   He sighed deeply, a hand strewn across his stomach as he watched the ceiling.It dripped down onto him, plaster covering his face and burning like wax.   No matter how many times he wiped at it, it kept falling.   He soon stood, flinching at the way the puppets' heads shot away, acting like they hadn't been watching him. He never gets used to that.   As he walked towards the door, he froze, glancing back and towards his closet.   He bit his lip, remembering what he had hidden deep inside, mouth watering... yet he stopped himself, instead heading towards the bathroom.   The toilet was always unused - monsters are made of magic, after all - but the shower, sink, and other things were almost always in use.   He stood in front of the sink, taking in his visage in the mirror.   Dark brown hair, nearly black, was flowing down his face like waves, soft as clouds from his over-cleanliness.   His skin was dark, yet his eyes were a pure opposite.   Black sclera, yes, but despite seeming empty, if you pressed a finger into his sockets, you'd feel the liquid-y magic surround you like tar. Orange irises floated in the middle, seeming to spin slowly, each tiny yellow fleck changing position by the hour like a clock. Black pupils made the orange stick out even moreso.   He let out a soft sigh, tightly gripping the porcelain. It hurt so much... to be here, to live, to exist, but he knew he couldn't just 'quit'.   Oh, it's not his DETERMINATION, monsters don't have much of that (excluding Undyne), but the fact he's tried.   Timeline after timeline, he's experimented. In secret, that is. He knows who remembers and who doesn't - and even those who don't see it as clearly still wake up from dreams and nightmares or feel as though this isn't the first time they've seen this.   He doesn't realize how hard he's scratching at his skin again, the fingerless red gloves showing off black-painted nails, skin collecting under them the harder he scrapes at his face. He keeps trying to get rid of the itching, the pain - but no relief appears.   He finally stops as he hears the familiar burst of magic as his brother teleports home, and he pants, skin red and irritated, white marks fading slowly.   His hand turns on the shower before he can stop himself, the room slowly filling with steam.   He'll deal with it later. Sans, he means. It's not like anything's been working for the sounds.   As he strips, a hand lands on his stomach. Solid, toned, well-built, other synonyms for his musculature.   Then, his chest. Just as well-toned. The multi-layered bones protected his SOUL rather well, three pairs of ribs. The outermost one was 'reversed', just the bones sticking around like a cage, large and solid, while below that another ribcage, sternum and all, fused into his chest as if dipped in mud. Under that one yet was another pair, smaller, right over his SOUL. You couldn't fit anything inside, not even the smallest of hands to reach the upside-down, white, cartoony heart.   Above, at his neck, a deep scar covering it from side to side when his head had fallen off. Each reset makes it feel deeper, though it never changes.   He hums softly in brief relief as he steps into the shower, rolling his shoulders and letting them crack and pop.   The water felt like pure pleasure as it ran down his exposed spine, the bones pristine white as they melded with his flesh, all the way to his stubby tail- bone-tail.    He wasn't a fan of his body, nor was he an enemy, but there was always one thing he hated the most about it.   He was scrubbing solidly, wiping off the filth of his sins from his impure body, not letting a single spot go unclean for any longer.   He growled to himself, reaching between his legs.   It's to be clean, it's to be healthy. It's to be clean, it's to be healthy. It's to be clean, it's to be healthy. It's to be clean -   He spent the rest of the shower washing his hands thoroughly afterwards. It only made him feel filthy over clean.   Disgusting.   Once he was out, he toweled himself off, yet again repeating the mantra when the time came, then washed his hands yet again, under the boiling hot water of the sink.   His brother wasn't making any noise from the living room, so he deemed it safe to return to his own bedroom.   Changing in front of those disgusting puppets made him feel even worse.   He stood for a while longer, eyes shut as he tried, yet again that day, to tune outthe sounds. The screams. The tearing of flesh. The absolute destruction.   Until he remembered. ***** Chapter 3 ***** Well, it starts as a joke, Like a stick in the spokes, Or removing a bolt from the brakes.   He looked down at the bowl, the soft, fluffy batter being mixed in with the rest of the food.   It smelled heavenly.   He fought the urge to dig in already, but he knew he couldn't. They're not ready, yet.   It was still hard to stop himself, however.   Then the bicycle flips, Crushing ribs, smashing hips, And he broke every bone in his face.   He fought the urge to drool over it. It was the first food that looked even remotely edible he's seen in such a long time.   When he was just a kid, otherwise known as a 'babybones' by his brother, he always felt sick when eating things like what everyone else ate.   The blood and guts made his stomach churn, yet he ate anyways because it made them happy. It made Sans happy.   And Sans should be happy.   Then you're out of control, And you can't fill the hole, That was left by the thrill of the chase.   Then there was the time he first felt full, where he didn't throw up when no one was looking.   He remembers it clearly, the tiny, deformed beast crawling towards him. He grabbed it.   Its bones snapped under his grip, and it faded from a walking piece of hell to something... delicious.   As the rotting flesh faded the more he crushed it, it faded into wads of candy, liquid sugar leaking out and fizzing like soda pop.   You're a right piece of work, Cornflakes go berserk, Have you forgotten how good they taste?   He drank it just like that, panting happily with the euphoria he felt. The taste... the taste was amazing.   Thecandy crunched loudly, and hurt his teeth a bit, as if he were biting into rocks, but once it crushed, it was filled with even more sweetie goodness.   The liquid was just as good, though it tasted a little... metallic. The taste quickly faded the more he drank, but when he ran out, he felt like crying.   And he did.   You're my kind of guy, 'Cause I like your style, And you sound as horrible as me.   Sans was in shock and scolded him. He looked at him like he was a demon of some sort.   He learned to never do that again.   Unless he was careful.    He never got caught the next few times he did it.   And I don't mind, If you're unkind, You're reminding me of me.   Once he put the batter in the oven, he was glad Sans always had so many jobs.   It'd take about as long to cook as it would for Frisk to reset again, so he had a while to eat.   The cake looked amazing, and he quickly dug in, making up for all that time without food.   To outsiders, it was just like the squirrel incident from when he was young... but with a bigger, more... human-y meal. ***** Chapter 4 ***** He was breathing heavily, eyes slowly growing wide.   No.   NononononononoNO-   His hands were shaking as he pulled away, glancing around. All that he was met with was the fog, mist, and snow of the miniature, blinding blizzard.   He stood, arms instinctively wrapping around himself, as it to shield him from eyes that weren't there. He was hyperventilating. He didn't do this, hedidn't do this, he couldn't've done this, it wasn't him-   He glanced down at them once again, their neck black and blue, bruises fading in in the exact shape of his hands. It stood out like a sore thumb against their golden skin.   He kneeled over them again, straddling their lap as his right hand met their neck once more. He frantically searched for a pulse, and, after a while, he found one.   He grabbed the edge of his scarf, putting one part of it in between his teeth, and tearing, before placing the ripped piece over their mouth and shielding it from the wind.   Their breath tousled the thin fabric, but he didn't feel the relief he wanted to. Not the grin or laugh he wished he could have let show.   He felt... angry. Angry, deep deep down inside of himself. Angry for what - he did not know.   He just knew that he was angry.   He scooped them up, time slowing down around him as he ran. He ran as fast as he could.   His brother never seen much of it, nor had anyone else, but this was his most often used power. It's like everything around him had stopped while he ran, and while he might get winded if he runs too far, he was nothing but a blur to the outer eye.   With time moving at such a crawl, his gaze caught with something familiar, that nearly made him stop in his tracks. That flash of blue.   He put on a grin, stopping in front of his house and shoving the door open.   "I did it, Sans! I stopped the human!" he cheerfully called out, holding their limp body in his arms, like they were a trophy.   Sans perked up from the couch, smiling lazily. But his brother could tell. He could see that wary look in his eyes, and the slighttwitch of his grin.   "Oh really? Sounds great. Uh... what happened to them, though?" he had stood, walking over to the duo. The knocked out human and humanoid, that is.   Right as Sans's mitten covered hand reached for the human, Papyrus jerked back as if lit on fire.   "You were right about one thing, Sans. They did try and attack me, so I had to subdue them, like Undyne taught me!" he lit up again, grinning widely, "Their SOUL wasn't shattered yet, so I thought that this would be good! We can keep them locked up until they learn to be better!"   But he was lying. Luckily, his brother only examined him for a second before seeming to believe him.   "You had me really worried for a second there, bro. Like you did it on purpose, or somethin'. You're not that cruel, are you?"   Papyrus's smile twitched downwards. "Could you repeat yourself, please?"   Sans frowned, brow furrowed, "Yeah... I was just calling you out. You doin' okay? You look a little, uh... guilty."   He just grinned again, even wider. "I'll be fine! I must've been a bit shaken from the human's attack earlier! I'll take them to the capture area, then I'll take a look at their wounds. We need them alive before we take them to Asgore, after all!"   Before the other could protest in the slightest, he was gone.   In the 'capture area', he was hyperventilating again.   He shook out of it quickly, grabbing the first aid off the wall and dusting the kit off. Just some help would do, yes yes yes...   He found his hands twitching towards the bottle, and he frowned. That'snot what he wants. That's not what he needs right now.   He tried to calm down and relax again, but the images of before kept flickering through his head. Again, and again, and again, yet.   * CHARA is sparing you! ***** Chapter 5 ***** His throat burned, and eyes stung with tears.   He didn't do this, did he? No. It wasn't him.   It couldn't've been him.   He lets out a soft breath, licking his lips as he saw their neck. The bruises went from blue and purple at the harshest spots, to a golden brown near the edges, where their skin started and injuries ended.   His nails urged to be torn away from his gloves, to be dug into their throat again, for him to feel their pulse slow down, to a stop, for him to reach down and lick up the delicious drink from their skin like a starving man after so many years -   But he couldn't. He didn't do it before, he wasn't going to do it now.   He wasn't.   He wasn't.   He wasn't.   He had to stop himself, yanking his body away from the tiny scissors he had been using to cut open their shirt. He grimaced at his own actions, disgust washing over him.   No longer focused on their health, he grabbed the small bottle from before, hands shaking.   He didn't bother to wait, popping it open and taking a swig. It was terrible, smelling far too decayed and rotten, and tasting horrible.   He felt more tears reach his eyes, vision blurring. He dropped the bottle, blood spilling everywhere.   He didn't care about the labels he remembered from the other bottle he took from this morning - the drugs - at all. At least, not now.   He had other things to do.   As he washed up their neck, sutured their shirt back up, and tidied them up in general, he tried to ignore the continuous feeling of dread climbing up his back.   He let out a sigh, feeling light-headed and relaxed. The dread was useless. He didn't need to worry, did he?   ...No...   No, of course not.   A smile reached his lips, genuine yet weak, as he opened his eyes again.   He was so happy. So joyous, so gleeful, so amazingly amused -    But something was hidden deep under all of it, something only a third force could notice.    Yet the force ignored it.   He stepped over the blood puddle, giggling softly and reaching down towards them.   They looked so pretty. The delicious drink was pouring from their chest, right where he had sewn their clothes into their body. He was so thirsty, too.   He couldn't help himself, leaning down and suckling at the thin sweater's fabric like a newborn kitten.   He felt so good.    He felt so good.   He felt so good.   He felt so - ***** Chapter 6 ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes He was enjoying himself. Oh, he truly, genuinely, definitely was. He didn't like it in the least bit, but he was enjoying it. His body felt fantastic while his mind ran wild.   He hated the soft intake of breath with each thrust of his hips, digging in deeper into their body. His hands were at their throat, and their eyes were wide. Each time he felt the world slipping out from under him, he squeezed again, breaking their concentration for the RESET.   He imagined it like a small line of text at the top of their vision, of their 'screen', slowly being broken away with each time they tried.   QUITTING   He tensed up.   QUITTING.   He was drooling over their body.   QUITTING..   He was crying.   QUITTING...   He squeezed their throat again, imagining the words suddenly disappearing.   His mouth hitched up into a smirk, and he drooled more, deliberately letting his spit fall onto their face.    "You have no idea how much I've wanted this."   No. He didn't want this.   "You have no idea how long I've been waiting to fuck your little brains out-"   He wasn't waiting, because he didn't want to.   "-How long I've dreamt of you, touching myself and imagining you between my legs."   Stop using his mouth to say these things! It's all lies, disgusting, horrible lies!   "...And now, I've finally got you here, CHARA. Right where I want you to be..." he leaned down, licking at their bruised neck, letting go with one hand just to be able to do that. The hand was now placed on their hip, and he felt their will breaking under him, each thrust into their core ruining what they wanted.   "You've needed me, too, huh, you freak? You wanted me to do this for oh so long... right? Why else did you say the things you did?"   His mind flashed over each memory from the prior timelines as his thrusts grew more uneven, more needy and rough. Through every name, and every single timeline.   * CHARA says that you're giving them a BONE-r.   * TRIP gives you a saucy wink.   * FRICK mentions that your battle body shows a lot of skin.   * BLOOKY asks you out on a date later.   No matter their alias, depending on which path they took only meant one thing. They either killed him, or tried to get in bed with him.   He remembers blushing brightly and looking away, clearing his throat and mentioning how they will 'DATE LATER!!'. He remembers the disgust crawling up from tail to skull, the urge to vomit clear in his mind.   He was crying, just like them, as he held them down, strength no longer gaining his control as he snapped their neck, right as he came.   They, no doubt, felt liquid warmth in their body, even as the first human broke their SOUL so he couldn't absorb it, and even as Asgore gave them words of advice.       He woke up in a cold sweat. This wasn't a RESET, and he knew it.   His head throbbed as he looked back through his memories, thinking desperately what had caused the disgusting premonition, but only one thing came to mind.   Time slowed to a stop, and he didn't even hear the door getting broken as he ran by it. He didn't even notice the hinges being torn from the wall, even as he slammed into the door to the shed.   Time sped up again as he skid to a stop, tearing open the first aid kit and grabbing the same bottle as before.   He quickly read over it, ignoring the worried sound of his brother teleporting to the shed to meet him.   "Pap? What's wrong?" was only a far away echo as he read.   All he could think of was how it burnt down his throat when he swallowed it. He wanted to throw up. Everything hurt. He just wanted to numb the pain. He just wanted to feel how he imagines humans must feel. He just wanted it all to end. Chapter End Notes What can be found in first aid or medical supplies, is commonly used for suicide, and has a name oddly enticing? ***** Chapter 7 ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes He found it hard to gain his focus again, his brother shouting nervously at him before grabbing his phone and dialing for help. He didn't react to the shouts from Sans.   Nor did he react to the shouts from Undyne.   Nor did he react when lifted and raced to Hotlands.   Nor did he react when Alphys asked what was wrong.   But he never dropped the bottle, breaking the plastic and making it creak loudly. This got the reptile's attention, and she tried to grab it from him.   He didn't budge.   Not even Undyne could get him to let go, his gaze far away and cold. As soon as Alphys decided to read it through his hand, her eyes went wide, even wider behind her bottle-cap glasses. She was racing to her desk, ignoring the cries from Sans just like Papyrus had.   She had grabbed her equipment, quickly grabbing to use her scissors and cut open his shirt, though he simply grabbed her wrist in a death-grip.   "P-Papyrus, I-I-I have to do this!"   "Do what?! What are you doing to my brother?!"   "Sans, calm down, she knows what she's doing, s-she's gotta."   "Papyrus-"   He clenched tightly, snapping her wrist and making her scream out. Undyne shot to attention, grabbing at his wrist, while Sans was shocked into silence and paralysis.   He only had so long, feeling bile rising up in his throat, world no longer as clear as before.   As his eyes faded to darkness, he imagined what CHARA might be seeing right now.   QUITTING   QUITTING.   QUITTING..   QUITTING... Chapter End Notes The answer was pretty simple. B = A A = Z JTPQSPQZM BMDPIPM ***** Chapter 8 ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes Papyrus.   Papyrus.   Papyrus.   Papyrus?   Papyrus.   He didn't want to wake up from this RESET, just trying to remember his façade as usual.   Chipper and sweet and cute and happy!   Thaaaaat's Papyrus!   But something felt... off to him. Something he didn't enjoy, even with closed eyes and a blanket to cover himself.   Something was wrong, and he didn't know what. He didn't like what he didn't know. So he rubbed at his eyes, not feeling in the mood to watch thepuppets and melting ceiling today.   He remembered the layout of his house perfectly, but as he walked out to the hallway with his eyes shut, he didn't find the railing. He usually reaches out to find it so he doesn't bump into it and fall, to get a feeling for it, but... it wasn't there.   He gently moved his feet forward, trying to feel for where it was, or at least a hole or edge of the loft. He eventually found it, feeling... padding?   No, that can't be right.   His eyes flickered open, empty, glistening balls of blackness burying deeper into his sockets.   ...   He can't see.   He began to panic, turning on his heel where he remembered the bathroom to be, slamming into the door before wrenching it open.   He grabbed for wherever the sink was, finding it on the opposite side he remembered it to be, and splashed water onto his face.   He began to calm down, moving his head up. The mirror is right above the sink. He opened his eyes again to see his face.   ...   It wasn't there.   Nothing but darkness.   In his rage and terror, he slammed his fist against what he hoped was the mirror. Instead of the flat surface it was before, it was a cabinet-mirror, and he heard bottles and other toiletries clatter against the sink.   His hands were raw and pained, but he was wearing full-fingered gloves, a thick cotton that softened the... wait. They... no.   These weren't even his gloves, just soft, puffy mittens.   He screamed, not liking the change, and grabbed at his hair.   Short.   "Papyrus? Papyrus! What are you doing?!" his brother called out, and he felt himself beginning to sob, falling to his knees.   "I-I can't-I can't..." he struggled, crying more, and flinched when he felt two calloused, worked-to-death hands try to comfort him.   "What's wrong, Papyrus?" Sans mumbled, much quieter now.   "...I can't see..." he choked, knowing that he was tearing up.   "...Pap..." Sans muttered softly, wiping away his now falling tears with bare hands, "Pap." he repeated, as if reminding him of his own name, "You can't see. You never could." he muttered again, hugging his younger-yet-taller brother close and speaking into his short hair. Chapter End Notes Haha ya'll thought that this would be Undyne's unlucky number didn't ya you fucking idiots I love you But yeah Nine still hates Dyne so beware motherfuckers ***** Chapter 9 ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes It was so subtle this time around, so they took it slow.   Even Flowey was different. He actually looked shocked that Frisk was there, as if they were the first human in such a long time. He stumbled over a few words, before just striking out of nowhere to fight them.   Toriel had sharper horns, too, and sharper claws, which made them worried for a moment. But she didn't act much different.   Emphasis on much.   She seemed less tolerant of mistakes, tomfoolery, and listening to them, as if someone else had been pouring their problems onto her, yet she still tried to remain patient. She never once grew violent, but she still huffed and made petty remarks if they tried to press the wrong button or said the wrong thing during her phone calls.   The RUINs seemed more cluttered with garbage over useful items, wilted flowers and stems found breaking through the stone floor. The items they usually found, such as the TOY KNIFE and RIBBON, were missing from their usual spots.   Heck, Napstablook wasn't even there! This made the human (lovingly named PAPYRU after what they last experienced in the other timeline, which they still worried about somewhat) curious. Something was new, they had done something new.   Toriel never asked their preferences, just dropped a plate of semi-burnt snail pie in front of them with annoyance. Not at them, rather at the pie. She must've gotten angry at one of the appliances.   By the time the fight came up, they noticed how upset she was growing. They didn't even need to fight, she simply shouted at them.   "Fine! If you want to go out there and die like the ones before you, that isn't the dust on my hands! I won't waste my time!"   She had forcefully shoved them out, slamming the door afterwards. She didn't even let them get their goodbye hug or burnt pie.   Maybe this was some sort of hard mode update, like when they used the name of FRISK?   Either way, they continued to walk. They kept glancing back, wondering when Sans would start stalking them, but it never happened. Instead, they got passed the bridge and even away from the sentry station. Station being singular, considering Papyrus hadn't had his dorky little clubhouse built, either...   They grew increasingly tense. This didn't feel right. Doggo was missing, none of the puzzles were made (and those that were were sloppy, breaking down, or deactivated), and Snowdin seemed much more foreign rather than homey.    Of course, seeing something new always felt foreign, but this didn't make them feel welcomed. The Snowdin Snowed-In Inn wasn't connected to the Snowdin Shop, it instead was between the Libary (previously Librarby, but still misspelled, they noted) and Grillby's. At least Grillby's was the same, huh?   They managed to calm down after a while, laughing softly to themself before coming to a stop in front of the Gyftmas tree.    Nothing seemed too messed up, at least. And hey, maybe this is going to save them time in the long run? After all, they barely had to waste time with Toriel, which tended to annoy them the most if they wanted to get everything over with. Maybe if they were going genocide it would've been easier, too. They hadn't encountered many monsters.   Either way, they found themself slowing to a stop in front of the skeleton brothers' home. It looked pretty normal, nothing too new, but the tiny steps on the porch had railings, and so did the rest of the porch. Dummies, who would fall off of a porch? It's such a minuscule drop, too!   They laughed again to themself, stepping up the few steps before knocking on the door. Maybe Sans still remembered him? He was always a smart cookie. They also wanted to see Papyrus, more than a little concerned after the whole... strangling-and-kidnapping thing that happened. It wasn't like him.   Despite not really expecting anyone to answer, they still felt a little downcast when nobody opened the door. Not even one of Sans's knock-knock jokes awaited them.   They didn't even get to turn around, though, before a hand landed on their shoulder. They stiffened at first, but felt the familiar mittens that Sans usually wore, so they turned around.   His eyes were empty, hair short cut and an ivory white, and his clothes no longer resembled a battle body, instead just winter clothes.    He didn't speak, grip growing tighter as he dragged them off.   Well, this wasn't Sans, but despite looking like Papyrus, he still didn't feel... right. He walked uncertainly, tapping or reaching out with his feet if he didn't feel confident with where he was going. They didn't get many chances to speak before they were in the blizzard, and he roughly pushed them forward.   "I want answers."   * You are confused.   They didn't enter an encounter, but they still felt as though this new monster was dangerous. Was he new if they knew him before? Knew new? Or is he a known new?   His mouth curled into a snarl at hearing the tiny blips from the text.   "Is this some kind of fucking joke?! Are you laughing?! You better be fucking laughing, because this definitely won't be worth it in a minute!"   Something seemed to click with them. He didn't know much about where he was going. His eyelights were gone. He was angry at hearing the noises from text, but not reading the text.   They croaked as they tried to speak, not relying on the text that usually narrated for them.   "I-I-"   "So now you talk? So now you show some fucking MERCY? This is all your fault. I don't know why this decided to happen, why you RESET when you did, or why it stuck, but all I know is that it's your fault I'm like this. Do you know how it feels? You're terrified every day of your life, so you learn to hide it. Then you get used to it a bit. You try to end all your suffering, you try to feel some peace for a while. You wake up like normal. You do this loop again and again, and nobody thinks you know of it. But you do."    With each accusation, he stepped closer.   "You pretend you're okay. You lie to all of their faces day after day, because you deserve to suffer, and nothing can help you to stop suffering. You never let anyone in, and you never let anyone know. You pretend that you're living in this beautiful fucking paradise, but you're in Hell. You just want to die, once and for all. Then, one day, you think you've done it. But you wake up. But you're not okay, are you? You're not. Everything has changed. Everyone expects you to know it, as if you've lived like this all your life. But you wake up in the middle of a new life, and you're forced to adapt. You're forced to relearn everything you've ever done before. You're useless. And why? Why are you so pathetic, why are you so hurt, so useless, so broken?"   He was in front of them by now, grabbing them by the collar of their shirt.   "You're why. You did this to me. You did this to me and you know it. And you know what? I know how to stop it." he grinned darkly after a few seconds, lifting them off of the ground. He was always strong, wasn't he?   They opened their mouth to speak again, only to be shut up by something going straight through their stomach. They couldn't scream, either, their deteriorating vocal cords failing. They simply tried to grab at him, pressing their hands against his face in light pettings, trying to calm him, to make him stop.   He grabbed at their stomach, only to drop them in shock once feeling blood.   "I can't believe you held them for me, Papyrus. That's impressive!" a loud voice shouted, and his eyes widened. Despite having empty eyes, he still faced the direction the voice came from, trying to look at them.   "I-"   "I'll be sure to put a word in for you to the captain, don't worry." Undyne clapped her hand onto his shoulder, giving him a little shake before grabbing the wounded human. The spear through their stomach pulsed with pain, and... either way, they felt their power fading away.   They couldn't RESET, resigned to their fate as who they once thought was the captain dragged them off. They stared at Papyrus, tasting the blood from deep in their throat. He looked so...   HOPEless. Chapter End Notes I felt inspired, so enjoy this giant fucking chapter. ***** Chapter 10 ***** Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes His hands shook, fingers twitching inwards as he desperately tried to stare at them. All he saw was the same darkness of his empty eyes, tears welling up inside of them as he felt the need to cough. He knew it'd only make him hiccup and cry desperately, so he tensed his jaw.   When he heard his door creak open, he froze, the door's simple, subtle noise seeming far too loud for him to handle.   "Who's there?" his voice came out steady, but fearful. There was no 'innocent' or 'cheerful' emotional tones in it. All he received in response was footsteps, heavy boots walking towards him before a rough hand touched his cheek. He flinched, trying to shove away, but another hand was on his other side of his face already.   "Don't worry, it's all okay. It's all going to be okay. Just lean back. I'll make you feel good."   ===============================================================================     They didn't know what was happening, in all honesty. Everything was so... new. Undyne didn't look right, nor did she act right. It seemed subtle at first, but... then it became more obvious. No matter what they did, which they didn't know what just yet, they hecked up the timeline.   They paced nervously, glad that this Undyne seemed a bit more calm. More... patient. As if she was used to dealing with people she needs to calm down. They were glad she patched them up, too, but it was pretty jarring when she asked if they wanted anything to eat or drink after inviting them into her house.   "He'll take a while to get here, so you don't really need to worry. Might as well calm you down a bit. We both kinda know how this goes, and you seem like a nice kid." she explained, "It sucks we have to do this, but... just between you and me, I wish I followed in the old queen's footsteps and left. He really went too far with that order... but it's not like anyone could stop him, y'know?"   They were already growing tired of the name game, eyes narrowed as she handed them a cup of... hot chocolate. It wasn't even in her fish teacup, either. It didn't look like she had any.   "You're pretty quiet, aren't you?" she sighed after they nodded, tapping clawed fingers against the wood of the table, "I'm... sorry about hurting you earlier. Papyrus... he hasn't been acting right lately. He's... it's like he just woke up in a new body, or something. Sans told me he was freaking out because he was blind, but... he's always been blind, y'know? It's pretty... disturbing, to say the least. It makes me worry for him. I just want the best for him.   He's not in the best of hands, but I'm in no position to try and stop Sans. I've... that doesn't mean I haven't tried before, it just means that I didn't succeed. It wasn't very nice, and... I-I'd bring it up to Hound, but he wouldn't believe me. Those two have been friends for years upon years. He'd take his word over mine any day, even over the dumbest of things. Sans could say I'm warm blooded and Hound would believe him."   So the captain's name was Hound...? Or... is that the king? You really don't know, do you?   ...Hey! Don't give me that look! I don't know any better than you do!   "Oh, uh, sorry for rambling. I guess you're just, uhm... disposable. Ah, shoot, that sounds pretty messed up. I just-"   They shook their head, holding up a hand to quiet her. They smiled softly, head tilted. She simply smiled back, her tiny front fangs catching the light just right, red tiger stripes flowing down her back like water, all the way to her long, thick tail, the rattle matching the crimson color.   "You're pretty nice. I... kinda don't wanna do this, y'know? You seem too sweet for this kinda thing. ...Ah, shoot. I really don't wanna do this, honestly. But... y'know what? Let's risk it for a chocolate biscuit." Chapter End Notes Dedicated to the nurse. ***** Chapter 11 ***** They couldn't help the smile as they held her cold hand. She was so different, but it was a good kind of different. They were slowly piecing everything together on their own.   The timeline of events they built up went as such:   Something happened to Asgore (they don't know what, but they just know that the "old king" is mentioned very little) - > Toriel ran off to the RUINs. Nothing new with Toriel hiding and running, but they worried for Asgore.   Toriel met Sans, Sans pushed all his problems onto her - > Toriel became sassy and impatient.    Sans is under stress from Papyrus being blind (which they still don't know how that happened), became snappy and aggressive to only people he knows really closely - > Sans hurt Papyrus in ways that Undyne still hasn't told them about.   Undyne tried to stop Sans - > Sans scarred her incredibly. She won't show the scar, but they keep noticing how her eyes (the eyepatch seemed to not exist in this timeline) kept flicking down to her left arm. It made them curious, considering she wore such a thick grey sweater to hide it. Even black gloves.   'Hound' heard about what Undyne told him, but didn't believe her - > Hound threatened her.   "Were you listening?" they looked up, blinking in confusion. They smiled sheepishly before shaking their head, but Undyne let out a good-natured laugh. She pulled her hand away to ruffle their hair, making them pout and huff slightly.   This pure, happy moment met a third force once more, like before with Papyrus, though they weren't there for that. They felt tense, the emotions of the third force, and Undyne seemed to notice their change in expression. The third force seemed to feel twice as tense, anticipating something. PAPYRU didn't like that.   Undyne's voice was muffled, as if being heard through water, and they felt cold. They felt colder than ever, and it wasn't the comforting cold from Snowdin, a heat of familiarity keeping them safe. This cold was sharp and painful, like walking through needle-sharp winds.   Their hands were shaking, eyes rolling back behind closed lids before they fell backwards, into the dark, unforgiving embrace of the VOID.   ===============================================================================     Are you enjoying your changes?   Are you happy with your actions?   Are you forgetting your changes?   Are you glad with your actions?   The words repeated endlessly, in endless cycles with different words stuck between every now and again, sticking out painfully as it flickered from neon red to pure white on the black background the third force became familiar with.   The words kept scrolling, like code fluttering down from above. But something stuck out, and the third force tried to read it.   Are you enjoying your changes?   Are you enjoying your actions?   Are you forgetting your changes?   Are you glad with your actions?   ===============================================================================     "You're such a good brother. You're so good at doing this. It's so good of you to do this. I deserve this. You shouldn't stop me from doing this. You're a bad brother if you don't let me do this."   ===============================================================================     Memories that were which not their own faded, and they shot up. They were on the verge of tears, a hand over their chest where their SOUL usually resided. No. ...They-they don't remember RESETting. They didn't die, did they? They...   They glanced around, huffing as they stood soon after. What a waste, too. They found the normal SAVE points, but clearly they didn't work.   So helpful.   ...Wait... what?   I-I didn't say helpful, I said good. No, I didn't-   ...They felt as though something was wrong. But they couldn't pinpoint it. ***** Chapter 12 ***** The myth growled to herself as she woke up, eyes flickering open after a minute. She felt so dull and numb, something was definitely wrong. And that dream she had... Well, it was all fading from her right now.   She flinched as she rolled off of her stone, feeling wetness under her scales. Looking down, she noticed broken glass and water, a small pool forming. She... didn't remember grabbing anything last night, and she knows better than to bring drinks to her bed, too. More importantly, she felt cold, a shiver running down her spine as she glanced around.   Ah, that makes sense. The cord as taken out, unplugged. No wonder she was so cold. She grew worried with how long it might've been unplugged, though, and was upset with the fact she couldn't plug it in until she cleaned up the spilled water. She was always skittish around electricity, especially after-...   Let's move on.   She hurried out of her room, noticing all the other appliances that kept her cozy were either broken or unable to be used for other reasons right now. Her windows were open, too, which is pretty disturbing, because she doesn't remember opening them. And they can't be opened. So they were all broken, yes, and she didn't break them. She doesn't think.   Whatever, moving on, she was sure to lift her tail to avoid the broken glass in her bedroom, rushing to the bathroom. She always kept heating pads in there. She skid to a stop once seeing her reflection, though, her own temperature all but forgotten despite how uncomfortable it made her.    ===============================================================================     "Stop fighting me. You know I need this. This is all your fault. You shouldn't just walk around like that. You know what that makes me do."     ===============================================================================   They hummed a tune stuck in their head, having gone past Toriel yet again. She kept giving them suspicious glares and glances, but at least they gained some BURNT S PIE this time. Maybe next RESET the human (this time titled MURDER, a classic) would get more pieces of pie? Either way, they were interested in befriending everyone, and were more than ready to avoid Undyne's attack when Papyrus confronts them.   This time, they ignored the SAVE points. Last time they didn't work, so why would it matter? They didn't even heal them, either, last timeline.   Why aren't you paying attention to me?!   Listen, MURDER, thisis funny. Gah! Yes! It's hilarious!   Oh, by the leader's CORE-   They swayed their hips to the beat in their head, oblivious to the things around them.    Just close it.   The dread returned, along with a feeling of confusion, that slowed their hums to a stop and movements faltered.   It's right there. Pretty enticing, right? Just close it.   Press it.   It's red.    It's so obvious.   Just press it.   They frowned, turning back towards where they came. Flowey was missing this run through the timeline, and didn't even greet them before they left the RUINs. Maybe they could go back, maybe convince her to...   Stop it.   Stop it.   Stop it!   Stop ignoring me, just press it!   Move up and press it!   Close it!   End it!   It's so pretty, right? You should press it.   Just press it.   Just close it.   What if I stop being funny?   What if I just become annoying?   What if I block everything out?   Would you press it then?   Would you close it then?   Their mind felt crowded and hazy, but they took a moment to shake it off before finally opening the door and heading into the harshness of Snowdin.   They never made it past the door. Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!