False host (undertale fanfiction)

chapter 12: faint sparks

Muffet pushed open the door to Papyrus's room without so much as a knock. Her sharp gaze swept the space, lingering on a few stray spiders that scurried into the shadows as she entered. Her eyes finally settled on Papyrus, who stood at his desk, humming softly as he fiddled with the fractured side of his skull in the mirror.

"Papyrus," Muffet began, her voice light but laced with a sharp undertone. She didn't yell, but the authority in her words made him flinch. "You're slipping."

Papyrus turned slowly, his sockets widening slightly. "Slipping? I—"

"Yes," she interrupted, stepping closer. Her many hands folded neatly in front of her, their delicate movements belying her predatory nature. "Your acting. It's... passable, but you're letting little cracks show." Her eyes lingered pointedly on the fracture in his skull. "We can't have Sans catching on too quickly, now can we?"

Papyrus's grin faltered, replaced by something more subdued. He lowered his head. "I'll do better," he murmured. "I'm sorry, my queen."

Muffet's lips curled into a saccharine smile, and one of her hands reached out to lightly touch his shoulder. "There's my obedient skeleton," she cooed. But then her fingers tightened, her nails digging into his bones just enough to make him wince. "But remember, darling, this isn't a game for you to lose."

Papyrus nodded quickly, his sockets dimming slightly. "Understood."

"Good boy," she purred, releasing him.Her voice softened, almost mockingly. "And do try to look a bit more... alive during our picnic. I don't want Sans to think I've ruined his favorite brother already."

Papyrus hesitated for a moment, "You haven't ruined me," he said quietly, his tone almost defensive.

Muffet paused, her many eyes narrowing. Then she laughed, a melodic sound that echoed through the small room. "Of course not, darling. You're perfect." She turned away, her bow bobbing as she walked toward the door. "Now, let's not keep our plans waiting."

Papyrus trailed after her, his movements hesitant but compliant. "It's my honor," he said softly.

The mist hung heavy in Waterfall, its cool dampness clinging to every surface. The faint glow of echo flowers scattered throughout the cavern gave the illusion of life, but the air was deathly quiet. The usual hum of frogs croaking or distant Temmie chatter was absent. Even the steady drip of water felt muted, as if the cavern itself were holding its breath.

Muffet blew into her palms, rubbing her hands briskly as she shivered. "I can't believe I forgot my sweater."

Papyrus hesitated behind her, his skeletal arms stretching out toward her instinctively. "I could—"

"Don't touch me," she snapped, her many eyes narrowing as she shot him a withering glare over her shoulder. "What warmth could a pile of bones possibly provide?"

Papyrus recoiled, his sockets dimming. "I was just trying to help," he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the stalactites above. Papyrus walked a few steps behind Muffet, his head lowered like a scolded child.

Then, as if a switch flipped in his mind, he perked up, raising a hand in an almost comical gesture of realization. "Oh, I know! We could have it in Hotland! It's near the nest anyway, and it'll be warm there."

Muffet stopped, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. That doesn't sound too bad," she said after a moment, her tone begrudging.

Papyrus's sockets brightened, his cape fluttering slightly as he moved closer. "Great!"