A collection of inane nonsense (ranging from Error being reincarnated as Palette to Dust finding a new love for the color pink) circling around the many AUs and Multiverses of the Undertale world. Some stories will be connected; Others will be rando...
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It had been a whole week since Frisk freed monsters from their underground prison. Sure, there was still plenty of things to sort out with the local government, but they were finally happy in the sunlight (or moonlight, given the time of day) and settling into their new homes atop the mountain that once caged them.
And Sans couldn't be happier.
He smiled down at the empty boxes he'd helped his brother unpack throughout the day; sweat glistened on his brow.
It took far more effort than expected. However, seeing Papyrus' happy face when he got off their old green couch and started opening and unpacking made it more than worth it.
Even if he would need a few more extra hours of sleep that night to rest his achy bones.
"Brother!"
Sans jolted at the sudden call, lazily turning on his heels, looking up, and facing the lanky (and, for once, normally dressed) skeleton standing behind him.
"When will you get rid of this accursed sock? It's stinking up all the other clothes." Papyrus gestured at the aforementioned sinful clothing article, which laid on the very top of their collective "need to put away" clothes pile.
The hoodie-clad comedian's smile grew into a small grin. "Never, bro."
His brother crossed his arms and raised a brow, demanding, "And why not?"
Sans' grin spread even wider as he said, "I have got a bad case of sockholm syndrome."
Papyrus appeared far from impressed. So much so, he gave an annoyed groan and glared, simply stating, "Sans, no."
Between his growing snickers, Sans replied, "Sans, yes."
"I am disowning you. Now, repack your things and go find another unfortunate soul to pester with your horrid sense of humor."
"Aw, bro. You don't really mean that, do you?"
"Yes."
Papyrus picked up the short skeleton by the hood of his hoodie and deposited him outside on the front step, closing the front door behind him.
Then the lock clicked.
"Uh... Papyrus?" After a few moments with no response, Sans nervously continued, "Okay, this is funny and all, but are you going to let me back in?"
A hollow wind breezed through the empty space between him and the front door.
"Welp. Guess I'm sleeping at Tori's tonight." He stuffed his hands in his front pockets before slowly making his way toward the lamp-lit street, channeling magic for a teleport.
