#undertale interactive dating

Note: This is for @sesurescue who spent the entire Dating Event trying to secure a smooch from Classic Papyrus (which never happened) and also loves the Papyrus and Grillby ship.

Papyrus frowns when his brother and the human disappear. In his opinion, teleportation is the laziest form of travel. He glances back at his abandoned X and O puzzle. It’s not going to solve itself, that’s for sure. He could simply use the switches to deactivate the spikes blocking the way, but that’s not his style.

The tall and very lonely skeleton walks through all three versions of the puzzle, turning every blue X into a red O to check that the mechanisms are working because he is thorough of course and not at all because he dreads going back into town alone. He hates going to Grillby’s by himself and seeing all of the real Royal Guards crowded around their table, laughing and playing cards, but a nice cold milkshake would sure hit the spot right about now.

Besides, it beat returning to a dark and empty house….

Stepping through the door to Grillby’s bar and Restaurant and seeing the Snowdin Royal Guard talking, laughing, and playing cards at their usual table only serves to rekindle the anxiety that Papyrus tries so hard to cover with boisterousness. The group of armored dogs reminds Papyrus of his shortcomings yet again. Not only is he not a Royal Guard, but you chose Sans over his carefully crafted puzzles!

Furthermore, how can the Great Papyrus bring himself to capture a human if the rest of them are even half as charming as you were? Papyrus slumps onto a barstool with a heavy sigh, and Grillby hurries over, sensing his friend’s distress even through Papyrus straightens and plasters a smile back on his face a moment later.

Grillby pulls oven mitts from underneath the counter to cover his hands while he scoops ice cream into a blender. “Hard day?” he asks Papyrus quietly. Very few monsters have heard Grillby speak. He prefers nonverbal communication with almost everyone except for a lucky few, including the skeleton brothers of Snowdin… and especially Papyrus.

Papyrus nods glumly in response to Grillby’s inquiry. Grillby hovers nearby after placing the milkshake in front of the skeleton monster. He has his suspicions about what is bothering Papyrus, but he waits for his friend to speak first, not wanting to bring up uncomfortable topics unless Papyrus truly wants to talk about it.

Papyrus pulls his favorite MTT-brand crazy straw with attached MTT figurine out of his pocket. He would never drink his milkshake with a regular straw, and the normalcy of the action makes Grillby smile.

“EVERYTHING COMES EASILY FOR SANS EVEN THOUGH HE NEVER APPLIES HIMSELF. THAT LAZYBONES GAINS FRIENDS AND STATUS WITHOUT EVEN TRYING,” Papyrus proclaims. “NOT THAT A HERO LIKE MYSELF WOULD EVER FEEL JEALOUS OF HIS OWN BROTHER’S SUCCESS.”

Papyrus pauses to slurp loudly at his milkshake. Grillby nods, encouraging him to continue.

“I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, SHOULD BE RESPECTED AND ADORED. I SHOULD ALSO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!” Papyrus finishes, blowing dejected bubbles into the melty bits of his milkshake.

“Still nobody willing to criticize your spaghetti?” Grillby asks knowingly, refilling the milkshake glass.

“THOUGH IT SEEMS TO BE AN EXERCISE IN FUTILITY (THE ONLY TYPE OF EXERCISE THAT I AM OPPOSED TO!), I HAVE DONE EVERYTHING IN MY POWER TO MAKE THE SPAGHETTI AS UNPALATABLE AS POSSIBLE, YET UNDYNE AND SANS EAT EVERY NEW, HORRENDOUS PLATE OF THE ABOMINABLE PASTA WITH A SMILE AND TELL ME HOW DELICIOUS IT IS. I EVEN TRIED PUTTING OLD BANANA PEELS IN IT!”

“I’m glad you brought me some of your spaghetti to taste or you’d still think Undyne’s rather unconventional methods were the correct way to prepare it. Honestly, though, I’ve actually come to quite enjoy our late-night cooking sessions, and those wouldn’t have been possible without her.” Fortunately, as a fire elemental, Grillby’s very nature hides any signs of the blush forming at his admission.

“I CHERISH OUR COOKING LESSONS AS WELL! YOU ACTUALLY TEACH ME THINGS! UNDYNE AND I HAVE FUN DURING OUR TRAINING, DON’T GET ME WRONG. I AM RARELY WRONG, AFTER ALL. I DOUBT ANY OF THOSE RAUCOUS, ROWDY RUFFIANS HAD TO WORK SO HARD TO BECOME GUARDS. IT’S ALL JUST A PUP-ULARITY CONTEST.”

Grillby snorts at Papyrus’s clever puns. These complaints are nothing new. Papyrus works so hard with no reward for his efforts. His brother and best friend coddle him, believing they know best, but in reality they themselves cause quite a bit of the hardship in his life. Papyrus always maintains a facade of joviality and self-confidence, but Grillby knows the truth because he actually listens to the skeleton monster. Papyrus wants more from his life. He deserves more.

“AND THE WORST PART IS THAT EVERYONE WANTS TO PET THEM JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE DOGS!” Papyrus is on a roll now. “DOES EVERYONE THINK SKELETONS DON’T WANT TO BE PET? WE ARE INCREDIBLY SOFT AND HAVE A MARSHMALLOW-ESQUE SQUISHINESS!”

“Well, do you?” asks Grillby. “Want to be pet, I mean…” He shouldn’t ask, but just this one time, Grillby can’t resist.

“OF COURSE!” Papyrus responds eagerly though his SOUL is fluttering in his ribcage under his battle body. Is Grillby really going to pet him, or is the bartender just humoring him?

Holding his breath, Grillby reaches out slowly, unable to believe that he’s actually doing this. Sure, he and Papyrus have touched before, but never in such a deliberately intimate way. Accidental hand touches don’t count, even if Grillby sometimes initiates those on purpose too. The fire elemental lays his hand against Papyrus’s smooth cheekbone and strokes it reverently.

Papyrus leans into the warmth of Grillby’s touch, rubbing his cheek affectionately against the hand petting him. Grillby is naturally hot, yet he still feels the heat emanating from Papyrus’s bones. The smooth bone and the warmth it exudes combine to make Papyrus’s cheek feel very soft and squishable indeed. Surprisingly, Papyrus’s bones rattle gently, and he emits a sound that resembles a purr, flustering Grillby to no end.

Grillby pulls his hand away, blushing furiously beneath his flames, sure he’s gone too far and extremely embarrassed at his own boldness. Papyrus simply narrows his sockets, an idea forming in his mind. He clears his proverbial throat, not sure he should be so reckless… but he is the Great Papyrus, and the Great Papyrus never falters even when he doesn’t have his trusty Dating Manual to assist his flirting.

“SANS EVEN RECEIVED A KISS FROM SOMEONE TODAY! ISN’T THE GREAT PAPYRUS EQUALLY DESERVING OF SMOOCHES? PERHAPS EVEN MORESO!” Papyrus waits expectantly.

Grillby wonders if he has dusted and fallen into some alternate universe where all of his secret daydreams have become a reality. “Of course,” Grillby says, echoing Papyrus’s earlier declaration with the very same flutter in his SOUL.

Is that a faint orange blush across Papyrus’s cheekbones? wonders Grillby, leaning in. It is! Could this mean that Papyrus feels the same way that he does? This is really happening; he is really mere inches away from kissing Papyrus!

Papyrus leans forward to meet him, and Grillby presses his fiery mouth to Papyrus’s teeth which quickly part, deepening the kiss. It appears that fire elementals aren’t the only monsters that can manipulate their magic to form tongues. The skeleton tastes of milkshakes and midnights dotted with millions of twinkling diamond stars. Both monsters close their eyes, letting their surroundings fade away around them and sinking into utter bliss.

Papyrus’s troubles have never been further from his mind, and Grillby’s hopes and dreams have never been closer than in this moment- the first of many in the future stretching out before them.

[ Return to main story. ][ Underfell Grillby BONUS ][ Swapfell Papyrus BONUS ]

Note: This last bonus is for @damnedxfate who loved the event but wished it was a bit naughtier. Sorry, but Sans won’t be joining in... this time.

Contains: suggestive content

No matter how many times Mutt and his brother Sans insist that danger lurks around every corner in their universe, you never feel unsafe. It may have something to do with the fact that one or both of the skeleton brothers escort you everywhere you go. Even visits to Muffet’s bar are carefully supervised by the Spider Queen and Spymaster herself. The threats of this universe can’t touch you with your ever-vigilant protectors.

The truth of the danger doesn’t hit home until Mutt returns to the house in Snowdin one day with an overstuffed cuddle chair in tow. Apparently, he scavenged the treasure from the Dump, and he presents it to you proudly as a way for you to curl up with him in the evenings. Your joy at seeing the new piece of furniture is overshadowed by horror at the sight of injuries all over Mutt’s body.

The skeleton brothers frequently come home with minor scrapes and bruises darkening their bones. Mutt and Sans both bear scars on their faces; Mutt even has a replacement gold tooth! This time, though, Mutt looks like he’s been in a serious fight. He’s cradling one arm to his side and a growing red stain tells you that it’s probably broken. Deep scratches and cuts weep marrow on his face, and one of his eyes has been blackened.

Sans dashes breathlessly into the house. Finally, you think, someone to lecture some sense into Mutt!

“YOU GOT IT!” Sans howls in triumph. “I KNEW YOU’D GET IT!”

“of course, m’Lord,” Mutt responds humbly. “those other monsters didn’t stand a chance.”

Your jaw drops. Neither one of the skeletons seems to notice that Mutt has a broken arm; they’re too busy gloating over their prize with shit-eating grins on their faces, obviously proud of winning a life-or-death Dumpster scuffle for a chair, blind to the cost that Mutt paid in blood for the piece of furniture. All that matters to them is the victory, the prize.

You scold them both long into the night while Sans tends to Mutt’s wounds, but you can’t stay mad at them. It is a very comfortable cuddle chair.

It’s late, and Sans is busy doing evening drills with the Snowdin Royal Guard. You’ve got Mutt all to yourself for the night, and the cuddle chair is living up to its moniker. The credits roll for the movie you and Mutt just finished watching. You are warm, comfortable, and feeling particularly amorous towards your skeleton boyfriend in the absence of distractions and company.

You stare longingly up at Mutt until his oh so sexy mouth curls into a sensual, teasing grin. “darlin’?” He drawls the endearment like a question, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips. He’s so close to you. He nuzzles you, letting the tension build as he trails kisses along your jaw before lightly nibbling your lips. He always drives you the best kind of crazy.

You inhale, readying a protest against his wiles, but suddenly his mouth is pressed to yours. You forget what you intended to say. You forget how to speak. What use are words anyway? Mutt’s kisses never fail to leave you breathless and craving more. Before long, you shift so that you’re straddling him, tasting his tongue as it explores your mouth, feeling the delicious scrape of his sharp teeth on your bottom lip.

Mutt is always careful not to draw blood though. He’s a powerful and ferocious monster, but he always handles you delicately as if he’s constantly afraid of hurting you. Moaning softly into the kiss, you start to grind yourself against him. You can feel the electric tingle of his magic gathering in his pelvis, a similar sensation to the one you experience when his tongue touches yours.

Mutt stiffens, breaking the kiss. You should have known this would happen. The lanky skeleton wears the same haunted expression that always appears when things start to get hot and heavy between the two of you. He pushes you away with a light touch, just enough to put a small distance between your bodies though you’re still on his lap.

Deep orange eyelights averted, Mutt mumbles something that sounds like “we shouldn’t,” but you can’t stand his withdrawal, not again, not this time.

“And why not?” you demand. He wants you. You want him. What could possibly be stopping him?

“this is a dangerous world darlin’,” he explains earnestly, “and the only way to survive is to be a bigger threat than everyone else. m’Lord n’ i grew up as killers. it’s instinct to fight now. i’d never forgive myself if i hurt you. i’m just so scared of losing control…” Mutt’s eyelights smolder with sincerity. It’s never been enough to tell him that you trust him. He doesn’t trust himself.

You shove Mutt back into the plush chair cushions roughly, and he can only blink at you in surprise. You grin wickedly at him. “What if I’m the one in control?” you suggest. Mutt groans as you restrain him with a hand on his chest, resuming the grinding motion while your other hand drifts down to unfasten his pants.

Muted sounds of pleasure stop Sans’s hand at the doorknob. Obviously you and his brother have decided to take your relationship to the next level. 

Mutt used to be quiet and withdrawn before he met you, alone and shivering in the Snowdin Forest. How many times had Sans gone to Muffet’s to collect his plastered brother from where he passed out at the bar? Not once, since you arrived. Mutt is actually… happy now. Fulfilled. It’s all Sans ever wanted for his brother.

Sans smiles to himself. Bright futures can be hard to come by in their world, so he supposes it won’t hurt to go over his traps one more time to give you and Mutt some privacy.

[ Undertale Papby BONUS ][ Underfell Grillby BONUS ]

INDEX | Read on AO3

Your burgers cool rapidly, sitting forgotten on the table between you and Sans. You and your skeleton date face each other, mouths nearly touching. You want to kiss him, but he drops a bombshell instead, insisting that he tells you the possible answer to your amnesia before you take things any further than science puns and ketchup-soaked French fries.

[ Moving away from the abandoned kiss, Sans tells you his theory about your problem. ]

Leaning back, he closes his sockets for a moment, gathering his thoughts. You push your french fries around your plate, too nervous to eat them. You hope the information is worth cancelling the almost-kiss for, but you also hope it’s not something too serious to fix.

“i know you were focused on the timeline variants when we were in the lab,” Sans says, and you nod your agreement. You didn’t bother looking at any of the other screens because the timeline signatures of your hodge-podge collection of pocket trash distracted you.

“i don’t think you noticed the SOUL trait scan, but i did. you have a really lovely SOUL,” Sans continues. You blush at the very intimate compliment. “you also possess an extremely high amount of Determination.”

“That’s what you scanned me to check for, right? Do you think that the reason for my memory loss might be related to Determination?” Sans hadn’t told you very much about Determination, but he said enough for you to get an inkling of where this conversation is going.

“in the presence of strong ambient magic like we have here in the Underground, humans can learn to harness their Determination and use it to RESET timelines or LOAD timelines from certain important points,” Sans explains.

“I’m not doing this on purpose! I don’t want to forget what happens to me,” you protest.

“i know,” the short skeleton reassures you, “but with your high levels of Determination, i think it’s happening outside of your control. when you kissed my check during Paps’ puzzles, it activated and RESET us to the beginning of the puzzle. a stronger emotional attachment might cause a bigger RESET, one that would take you back farther than your memory could keep up with, causing you to forget what appears to be several different timelines of travel.”

You panic. It could happen at any moment. Any attachment you form with anyone could vanish in an instant, and you wouldn’t even remember enough to miss it.  You start to hyperventilate, and Sans reaches out to gently touch your cheek and calm you. You recoil as if he raised his hand to strike you.

“Can you do anything to stop it?” you ask desperately, terrified that his answer will be no.

“it’s complicated,” Sans hedges. Your face scrunches up in the precursor expression to uncontrolled sobbing, and Sans hurries to continue, “but i think i can fix it.”

“How?” you sniffle, still not able to fully dispel the tears burning your eyes. How can Sans fix an overabundance of Determination, and if he can’t, how can you live your life always worried that you’ll lose everything?

“well, i would have to extract the Determination from your SOUL. i’ve never done it on a living human’s SOUL before, and it may be dangerous. it also might not work. i know how important this is to you, but i’m scared of the risk. i… i really care about you.”

“I want to do this,” you say firmly. “I need to do this.” Sans tentatively reaches out again, but this time he takes your hand.

“i don’t make a skele-TON of promises, but i promise that i won’t let anything bad happen to you. if things start going wrong, i’ll stop the procedure, and we’ll figure something else out.”

Sans’ sincere words put you at ease. You’re able to finish your meal with him in pensive silence. Once your food is gone and your plate pushed away, Sans takes your hand and teleports both of you back to the lab.

You fight off trepidation when Sans instructs you to lay on the metal gurney with the stange James Bond laser apparatus over it. You trust Sans. Without so much as a joke or a pun, the short skeleton goes to the control panel and begins painstakingly adjusting the settings. He checks and rechecks his work while you wait with growing anxiety.

“everything is set,” says Sans, walking over to the large extraction mechanism and positioning it carefully over your chest. “scream if it starts to hurt, ok?”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not, but when he goes back to the control panel and asks you if you’re ready, you give him a thumbs up. He pulls a lever. Nothing happens… at first.

White-hot pain sears your body for a few excruciating seconds before the soothing embrace of darkness pulls you under into blissful unconsciousness.

You groggily surface into wakefulness to see Sans’ worried face hovering over you. Your whole entire body aches, and you want to rub the sore spot on your ribcage that houses your SOUL, but you don’t want Sans to feel guilty for hurting you. You know he didn’t do it on purpose.

“Did it work?” you ask, not bothering to shift your sluggish body into a sitting position if you’re only going to slump over in defeat and disappointment a moment later. Standing is for celebrating.

The too-wide, but entirely genuine smile returns to the skeleton scientist’s face, and you know the procedure was a success. You celebrate by leaping to your feet… or trying to. You lurch upright and stumble a bit before catching your balance. The flurry of activity winds you, so you sit back down on the gurney.

“I still don’t remember anything.” You sigh. It was too much to expect for the Determination removal process to fix everything. At least you wouldn’t accidentally RESET again.

“actually, while you were busy catching some Z’s, i managed to stabilize your Determination level. i also used my timeline portal machine to pinpoint the timelines you’ve visited. i thought that seeing the places you’ve been might jog your memory.” Sans points to a machine in the corner that you never noticed before.

A frame holds whirling blue magic that crackles like lightning. You can see images through the swirling movement, images that seem familiar. Suddenly, the memories come pouring back.

You recognize your home, your bedroom in fact. You remember laying on your back and staring at the ceiling, wishing you could be somewhere else, anywhere else but there.

A tall, gold-fanged skeleton smiles shyly at you from another section of the portal. Mutt. You touch the hem of your jacket, his jacket actually. You recall his look of longing after you kissed him, the taste of woodsmoke and spice, and a hunger he refused to let control him.

Another skeleton with angular features and a scar over his left eye watches you from another scene. His brother called him Boss, but you know him as Papyrus, lover of chocolate cereal. “NOBODY HAS EVER MET MY STANDARDS BEFORE... I TRUST YOU.”

The last image contains a smiling skeleton with sweet soft features. You stroke the honey bear in your pocket, which once belonged to him. Stretch, the honey fiend, who drank the sweet treat straight from the bottle and once told you: “you’re the only one other than Blue who’s ever been impressed with me before” after claiming to have a PhD in the napping arts.

Emotions overwhelm you, and you feel Sans sliding his arm around your shoulders. How could you forget these moments? How could you leave those skeletons behind? Tears stream down your cheeks at the bitter sweetness of your reclaimed memories.

“you have the power to choose your own path. you have enough Determination left to LOAD one of these timelines,” Sans explains softly, “or... you could stay here with me…”

“What happens to the ones I don’t choose?” you ask, voice barely a whisper.

“since you RESET, it will be as if you were never there at all.”

It’s so very difficult to decide.

[ Abandon your skeleton dating ways (Return home) ][ Stay with Sans (Do not LOAD) ][ Choose Mutt (Return to Swapfell) ][ Choose Boss (Return to Underfell) ][ Choose Stretch (Return to Underswap) ]

There will be a finale chapter based on your votes in this round.

(Leave an ask or comment, or reblog with your choice)

You grab Sans by his hoodie and pull him close against your body. At first, he tenses up, startled by your actions. He relaxes though, showing that he trusts you. As his arms snake around your waist to return the hug, tears stream down your cheeks. You can’t stay, and now you have to tell Sans that you’re leaving him. The words stick painfully in your throat, but you’ve made your decision.

“Thank you, Sans,” you say, voice cracking on a sob. “Thank you for everything, but I can’t stay.” The short skeleton monster nods before you’ve even finished speaking, pushing you gently away. “I left someone behind, and I have to go back.”

“i understand,” he says softly.

“How… how do I go back to him?” Guilt rises in your chest, bringing a fresh wave of tears. You’re asking Sans to help you leave him, to return to the arms of another skeleton.

“just focus on the last moment you can remember. i can tell that you’re determined, so that moment in time should LOAD, no problem.” The explanation is accompanied by Sans’ usual smile, but despite the ear to proverbial ear grin, there’s something unspeakably sad about him.

You close your eyes, unable to meet Sans’ eyelights any longer. Taking a deep breath you bring your restored memories to the forefront of your mind.

[ You choose to return to Swapfell. ]

You recall the taste of spice and woodsmoke. You remember how Mutt folded in on himself, shrinking from a tall and lanky skeleton monster into an anxious and unconfident creature that expected rejection. His hungry eyelights burn brightly in your mind, though he never moved to act on his emotions. He was waiting.

He is waiting.

Waiting for you to say something.

Mutt is right in front of you, his face lit with the soft blue ambient light of Waterfall. He averts his eyelights submissively, giving up any hope of wooing your further. You can’t even gather your thought fast enough to reassure him before he speaks.

“‘m sorry. i misread the situation. i-”

You step forward and crouch next to Mutt, taking his hand in yours and entwining your fleshy fingers with his slender bones. You shush him by pressing your lips to his mouth, right against his golden fang.

You wish you could tell him that you gave up three other universes of monsters and possible romances for him. You wish you could tell him that when given a choice to have the monster you wanted the most, that you’d chosen him. You wish you could tell him how much he means to you, but it seems that the kiss is enough to communicate all of that and more.

Mutt’s arms encircle you, stronger and rougher than Sans’. He grips you with passion and desperation, returning your second kiss with even more fervor than the first. The fact that you didn’t reprimand him or run screaming in the opposite direction comforts him enough to kiss you deeply and with confidence.

When you finally separate from him long enough to catch a breath, you discover that his eyelights have lost none of their fierce intensity, but now they smolder with hope and adoration instead of hunger.

“You’re amazing,” you whisper to him. Mutt actually lifts you off of your feet and twirls you around, squeezing you tightly before setting you back on your feet.

“do.. you mean it..?” he asks hesitantly. He’s so open and vulnerable in this moment that you worry a harsh word could dust him on the spot.

“Of course,” you tell him. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but right here, right now, in this moment, with you.”

He wiggles. The tall, dangerous-looking skeleton monster actually wiggles in barely contained joy. You almost giggle at his antics.

“nobody except M’Lord really cares about me,” he admits. “life here is all about manipulation and using others to get ahead. i really like you, darlin’, and i’m glad you feel the same.” His cheekbones blaze with an orange glow as he confesses his feelings to you. “will you… stay with me… with us?”

“I’d love to.”

Mutt’s entire demeanor changes with your acceptance. He gathers the picnic basket, offering you his arm to escort you back into Snowdin Town with a spring in his usually slouchy and nonchalant step. Instead of silence or his quiet drawl, Mutt speaks energetically about his plans for the future.

You’ll be under the protection of the Captain of the Royal Guard and the most feared monster in Snowdin Forest. Mutt has always treated you kindly, so kindly in fact that you never considered his strength or reputation, but apparently no monster will risk his ire to attack someone he cares about.

The shed will be converted from a human prison to a private apartment for you. Mutt will do the manual labor, and his Lord will be in charge of decorating. He gestures animatedly as he describes all of the sights and activities that he has planned for your future. Seeing the sweet skeleton come out of his shell as he prepares to give you a life of luxury only reaffirms that you’ve made the right choice.

For once, you actually look forward to what lies ahead… a life with your loyal and lovable Mutt.

[ Swapfell Ending (you are here) ][ Undertale Ending ][ Underfell Ending ][ Underswap Ending ]

These are not voting options. There is no more voting in the story.

The AU specific endings will occur in the following order according to the votes:

1st Place:

Swapfell Papyrus (Mutt) with 17 votes!

2nd Place

Undertale Sans with 12 votes!

3rd Place

Underfell Papyrus (Boss) with 3 votes!

4th Place (Tie)

Underswap Papyrus (Stretch) and Going Back Home with 1 vote each!

Poor Stretch. 

You grab Sans by his hoodie and pull him close against your body. At first, he tenses up, startled by your actions. He relaxes though, showing that he trusts you. As his arms snake around your waist to return the hug, tears stream down your cheeks. You can’t stay, and now you have to tell Sans that you’re leaving him. The words stick painfully in your throat, but you’ve made your decision.

“Thank you, Sans,” you say, voice cracking on a sob. “Thank you for everything, but I can’t stay.” The short skeleton monster nods before you’ve even finished speaking, pushing you gently away. “I left someone behind, and I have to go back.”

“i understand,” he says softly.

“How… how do I go back to him?” Guilt rises in your chest, bringing a fresh wave of tears. You’re asking Sans to help you leave him, to return to the arms of another skeleton.

“just focus on the last moment you can remember. i can tell that you’re determined, so that moment in time should LOAD, no problem.” The explanation is accompanied by Sans’ usual smile, but despite the ear to proverbial ear grin, there’s something unspeakably sad about him.

You close your eyes, unable to meet Sans’ eyelights any longer. Taking a deep breath you bring your restored memories to the forefront of your mind.

[ You choose to return to Underswap. ]

The swell of chattering voices in the background sweeps you back into the memory of your last moments with Stretch. You were at a restaurant, with steam from your spiced Spider Cider wafting up around your faces. Muffet the bartender’s melodic giggles come from somewhere far away, and a bright glowing orange color fills your vision. Is the delicious honey and spice flavor on your tongue from the beverage or from something else? Your eyes slowly close.

You’re kissing Stretch.

You’re kissing Stretch right now.

In fact, the taste of honey and spices from earlier is coming from his tongue… in your mouth… gently stroking yours. Stretch is even making soft little noises of pleasure.You relax into his touch, enjoying the sensation of his warm hand cupping your cheek.

Much too soon, Stretch pulls away. His blush has spread across his entire face and he’s looking down at his Spider Cider in what appears to be… embarrassment? Regret? You certainly aren’t going to let Stretch withdraw back into his shell after such a heartfelt conversation and passionate kiss.

“You’re an amazing, kisser,” you tell him, moving your hand across the table to cover his. He looks up, startled by your praise.

“‘m sure Blue’s a much better kisser than me. he’s just so good at everything he does. i shouldn’t be getting between you two. you deserve the best, not a slacker like me.” Stretch tries to lighten the self deprecating comments with a laugh, but it falls flat, echoing with the bitterness of a life lived in someone else’s shadow.

“If I wanted to be with Blue, I’d be with Blue,” you say firmly. “I chose to come here with you. I chose to kiss you, and I don’t regret a thing.”

“r-really?”

You smile. “Really. Besides, as nice as it is to date a future Royal Guard, I’ve always had a thing for doctors.” Stretch snorts.

“if you decide to stay here… with us… well, i’ve been looking for a nap arts apprentice.” He glances at you out of the corner of his sockets to gauge your reaction.

“That’s a funny way of saying ‘datemate,’ but I accept. I assume the apprenticeship is paid?”

“not a chance, but you can eat at Muffet’s for free.” Stretch winks.

“The food here isn’t free,” shouts Muffet from the kitchen area. “You just never pay for it!”

“lesson… erm, date one: making a clean getaway.”

Stretch clasps your hands tightly in his own and teleports you away from the restaurant. As the whirlwind of darkness closes around you to sweep you away to a new location, you realize that it doesn’t matter where you end up, as long as you’re there with Stretch.

[ Swapfell Ending ][ Undertale Ending ][ Underfell Ending ][ Underswap Ending (you are here) ]

These are not voting options. There is no more voting in the story.

You ponder the possibility of X’s and O’s. Sans and Papyrus both make valid arguments. XOXO is referred to as hugs and kisses though; does that mean that the X is a hug and the O is a kiss? You originally asked the question as a joke, but now you can’t stop thinking about it. If those two letters represent hugging and kissing, then what are the implications for a game of tic-tac-toe? You make a quick decision before the new thoughts can overwhelm you.

[ You agree with Sans and give him a quick O on the cheekbone. ]

You expect Sans to be shocked and perhaps even to blush. What you do not expect is to find yourself standing about thirty feet back from where you were with Papyrus explaining the puzzle again.

“-EACH BLUE X INTO A RED O. THE BLUE X WILL TURN INTO A RED O IF YOU… STEP ON IT… ONCE…” Papyrus’ words trail off, and you and the two skeletons stare at each other in confusion.

“I BELIEVE I ALREADY EXPLAINED THIS PUZZLE,” says Papyrus, scratching the back of his skull nervously.

“It’s happening again,” you mumble, before repeating yourself, louder this time, in Sans’ general direction. “It’s happening again! What is going on?”

Papyrus turns to Sans as well. “YOU’RE NOT PRANKING US ACROSS TIME AND SPACE ARE YOU, SANS? IT IS RUDE TO INTERRUPT MANNERLY PUZZLE DISCOURSE,” he scolds.

“it wasn’t me bro. i actually think it was the human.” Sans points at you.

“Me?” you yelp. “I don’t even know what’s happening. I can’t remember anything.” You are on the verge of tears. Sans and Papyrus both step in close to put a comforting arm around you. You avoid their touches, fearful of the consequences.

“IT WILL BE ALRIGHT, HUMAN. AS A FUTURE ROYAL GUARD, THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS HONOR-BOUND TO PROTECT YOU!”

“i need to go to the Lab to find out what triggered this. you’re sure you didn’t do anything?”

You shake your head. “All I did was kiss-”

Kiss

KISS

Memories surge forward, but it is as if they hit a wall before they can fully emerge into the forefront of your mind. Something about kissing…? Kissing skeletons…? The thoughts vanish as quickly as they appeared.

“-your cheek,” you finish absently. You sniffle.

“hey, friendo, no tears now. i’ll figure this out. i promise, and i don’t make promises lightly.” 

This time when the skeletons close in, you allow them to embrace you. Sans gives awkward pat hugs, but Papyrus gives warm, snuggly hugs that instantly make you feel better. With Sans’ promise and Papyrus’ unbeatable hugging technique, you think that things might actually turn out alright.

“would you like to come to Hotland with me and visit the Lab? we could work on your problem together,” offers Sans.

“UGH, HOTLAND. IT IS A STIFLING LAND FULL OF HORRIFIC PUZZLES. SURELY YOU’D RATHER FINISH THE PUZZLES HERE IN SCENIC SNOWDIN,” Papyrus counters.

As you consider the options, your stomach rumbles. It seems you’ll need to eat something wherever you choose to go.

[ Ignore your hunger and go to the Lab with Sans (Visit the Lab ) ][ Ignore your hunger and finish the puzzles with Papyrus (Finish the puzzles) ][ Ask to eat with Papyrus (Meet Grillby) ][ Ask to eat with Sans (Meet Muffet) ]

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You hate abandoning a course of action that you’ve already started. As much as you’d love to keep solving Papyrus’ puzzles, you need answers to the strange events occurring in your life. It pains you to choose one skeleton brother over the other, but you need to put aside both your hunger and your affection in pursuit of the solution to the pressing matter of your amnesia.

[ You ask Sans if you can join him at the Lab while he does his research. ]

“Tibia honest, I think it’s best if I go to the Lab with you, Sans. I don’t want something else to happen. I don’t want to forget again.” Your statement starts out with humor and confidence but ends as a whisper.

“to patella the truth, it’ll be better to have you in a controlled environment while we get to the bottom of this,” Sans counters, trying to keep the mood light.

Papyrus throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “WHAT A WASTE OF PERFECTLY CALIBRATED PUZZLES,” he cries. You can tell he’s disappointed that you’re leaving, but you don’t have many options. If you stay, everything might fade away to whiteness again. You wish you could promise to come back, but there are no guarantees.

“ready to lend me a hand, pal?” Sans asks, extending his hand to you. When you take his hand you aren’t at all surprised to discover that his carpals are warm. Somehow you expect it. “i know a shortcut,” explains Sans, but Papyrus quickly catches your jacket sleeve to stop you. When he speaks, he addresses Sans though.

“EXERCISE CAUTION, SANS. UNDYNE MIGHT BE VISITING ALPHYS AT THE LAB, AND YOU KNOW HER FEELINGS ABOUT HUMANS TEND TO BE… WELL, MURDER-Y.”

“you know I hate exercise, bro.” Sans shrugs off the warning.

“I’M SERIOUS,” insists Papyrus.

“hi serious, i’m sans. sans the skeleton.” Sans actually has the audacity to offer Papyrus a handshake. Papyrus stamps his foot in frustration.

Giving up on reasoning with his brother, Papyrus turns to you. He unwraps his damaged scarf from around his neck and carefully arranges it around yours. “IF YOU ENCOUNTER UNDYNE, SHOW HER MY SCARF AND TELL HER THAT YOU ARE MY… FRIEND… IF YOU CONSIDER US TO BE FRIENDS THAT IS,” Papyrus blushes adorably.

You reassure him that you are, in fact, his friend, and he actually gasps, covering his mouth with both gloved hands. His eyes sparkle with pure joy. Once again, you wish you could promise him that you would return. Instead, you squeeze Sans’ hand. “Let’s go.”

The short skeleton doesn’t say a word, and suddenly the world lurches around you. You’re briefly disoriented, and vertigo jolts your stomach. Oh no. Oh no! You expect the endless nothingness to appear (disappear?) at any moment, but a gust of very hot blasts you. A low hum causes the air around you to vibrate. This is not what you expected.

You and Sans are both standing in a small cavern with red sandstone walls. There’s a metal door with black and yellow cautionary stripes around its border.

“welcome to Hotland,” says Sans, pressing a keypad next to the door. The moniker certainly fits. Is that lava outside the cavern? You don’t have time to ask questions. With a pneumatic hiss and a puff of much cooler air, the door slides open, and you follow Sans into the Lab.

You wonder why Sans didn’t transport you directly into the Lab, but the second you cross the threshold, you can sense a difference in the air. Maybe it isn’t safe to use his shortcut here? You don’t ask. You’re too busy craning your neck to look around.

You expect a science laboratory to be well-lit, but the hallways are flanked with shadows that seem to breathe. You pass by darkened rooms, but Sans doesn’t even spare them a glance despite the fact that you can hear scratching sounds and incoherent, guttural voices within them.

Sans stops at the end of the hallway in front of a door inscribed with a strange language of symbols. You don’t see an outside handle, lock, or keypad, but wisps of blue drift from Sans’ left socket, and the door creaks open slowly. Sans flicks a switch, throwing the room into blinding relief.

You blink to clear your vision. The room looks like a nightmare vision of a dentist’s office. There are metal gurneys and machines resembling James Bond villain lasers.Giant computer screens line an entire wall of the room with green letters, numbers, and symbols flitting across them in rapid succession.

“What is this?” you ask Sans in a subdued voice.

His eyelights go out, leaving his sockets dark and unsettling. “if i told you, i’d have to kill you,” he replies cryptically. You wonder if you made a fatal mistake following him to this secluded place, but then he bursts out laughing and his eyelights return. “lighten up, friendo. this is where we study SOUL traits, especially the effects of a trait called Determination.”

[ Ask Sans about the other rooms (Learn about Amalgamates) ][ Ask Sans about Determination (Learn about Determination) ][ Go back to check the other rooms yourself (Explore the Lab) ][ Ask to go back to Snowdin (Return to Snowdin) ]

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INDEX | Read on AO3

Epilogue:

Papyrus frowns when his brother and the human disappear. In his opinion, teleportation is the laziest form of travel. He glances back at his abandoned X and O puzzle. It’s not going to solve itself, that’s for sure. He could simply use the switches to deactivate the spikes blocking the way, but that’s not his style.

The tall and very lonely skeleton walks through all three versions of the puzzle, turning every blue X into a red O to check that the mechanisms are working because he is thorough of course and not at all because he dreads going back into town alone. He hates going to Grillby’s by himself and seeing all of the real Royal Guards crowded around their table, laughing and playing cards, but a nice cold milkshake would sure hit the spot right about now.

Besides, it beat returning to a dark and empty house….