#badger_writes

[badgertablet]

/holds out a cup/ spare papyrus fic recs? any fic recs please?

AO3: why aren’t i happy? – Centrist  ✦ 

Papyrus didn’t quite understand it. How come he didn’t feel as happy as he should? But then he finds out. And then he and his brother has to deal with it. tw//: self-harm through scratching/itching at arms, suicidal thoughts, attempted nongraphic suicide (starts at ‘With the lack of any answer, Sans turned the knob and opened the door.’ and ends at ‘How could this happen?’)

AO3: he knows – Centrist  ✦ 

Sans slowly figures something out about Papyrus each RESET.tw//: sort of implied/referenced nongraphic suicide as he willingly goes to meet frisk during the geno run, papyrus remembers resets plus reveal to sans 

AO3: green ones first – aphwhales 

In the morning, if he was awake, Sans would cautiously ask about his night as Papyrus picked at his dinosaur egg oatmeal, scouring for the green ones first. tw//: soft discussion of eating disorders, nongraphic panic attacks

AO3: pressing matters – pickledragon  

Everyone remembers, eventually. tw//: minor nongraphic suicidal thoughts but nothing happens, mentioned character death, tbh just look at the series tags 

AO3: And Then You – DustyScarf ✦

Sans has troubles, drinks to forget, and Papyrus has a bad time.  tw//: alcohol mentions, blackouts, nonconsensual soul touching in a nonsexual and nonromantic way, unhealthy/borderline abusive behavior 

AO3: G A S T E R  – Shadow_of_Quill ✦ 

Who is he? (Who was he?) (̵Doe͘s ̴he͢ ͡rea̛l͘l̕y ̶w̡ant ̛to ̵kno͟w͟?͝)tw//: identity confusion, angst, papyrus is gaster 

AO3: Out Of Time – friends_call_me_wobbly_hands 

Papyrus doesn’t understand at once. But then it just rockets down, and, clearly, when you see an avalanche incoming, there are only three ways for you to behave. You can try to run. You can try to close your eyes and tell yourself that it’s all just a dream. Or you can face the avalanche like a Viking before his rightful Valhalla, with a ski pole in the hand, screaming: “FIGHT ME!!!”tw//: god guys i dunno its been a while look at the tags man, underfell but it comes across as canon ut but darker 

AO3: A soul full of love and teeth that don’t speak – HaroThar ✦ 

Papyrus loves everyone he’s ever met, he thinks.tw//: none really its just mostly really soft 

AO3: My Big Fat Fish Holiday Party – 264feet ✦ 

A local lesbian, Undyne, asks Papyrus to be her Fake Heterosexual Date for Mama Fish’s annual non-specific holiday bash. Things go wrong. Sans is there. You may be wondering why this is tagged as Bill Clinton.tw//: crack, honestly this is just canon for me and its really funny 

AO3: Six Souls And A Skeleton –  kgmps2  

Upon considering the potential outcomes of a human/monster war, Papyrus decides to take matters into his own hands and absorb the six human souls. tw//: king papyrus ending, child death i think, dont rly remember its been a long time 

AO3: Dog Days – DeterminationIsNotCrash 

Making a short movie for a competition proves harder than expected when Papyrus abruptly turns feral in the middle of filming. tw//: gaster blaster au, author uses he/him pronouns for frisk instead of the canon they/them 

AO3: caught in the know – Parlemour ✦ 

Cereal. He was found out because he wanted some cereal, instead of the usual spaghetti. Papyrus knows, and now Sans knows that Papyrus knows. tw//: a little bit of apathy, not really anything to be honest? if anything the writer has papyrus speak Like This Which Is A Huge Pet Peeve Of Mine 

– shameless plug-in: 

AO3: voice like honey by me (badgertablet) 

Red and blue flashes across his vision momentarily before a white spotlight is put on him, and he covers his eyesockets with a shaky hand. He tries to yell for help, but his voice catches in his throat. He swallows, stumbles forward a few steps, and manages to croak out a pitiful “HELP, PLEASE—” before he’s cut off by a loud staticy crackle. or,Papyrus wakes up from an unintentional nap and finds out that he’s screwed. There’s also a baby.tw//: check the tags and the notes but mostly minor character injury and death 

✦  some of my fav fics. if ur gonna read any of the above, read them !!! 

[badgertablet]

ok but neutral ending au where the human kills undyne, mettaton, asgore, and various other monsters while leaving their cruel words behind. alphys survives, buries her grief and self-deprivation under anger. toriel emerges from the ruins and claims the throne for herself, expecting quiet acceptance and servitude to her new rule. 

what she meets is hatred. they are angry at her for letting the horrid being out of the ruins, for letting their leaders die and thinking that she could slot herself back into the kingdom after she abandoned them. she scrambles, looking for any way to redeem herself in the eyes of her people, realizing she cannot get away with any more mistakes. she seeks out sans, knowing his brother is a powerful monster and one that can be easily accepted by the population as the new head of the royal guard because of sans’s backing. papyrus doesn’t want the job, but she gently cups his face between her strong, strong paws and tells him that he does not have a choice. the underground will fall apart without him, and it will be his fault. (he accepts.)

she goes to alphys next. orders her to resume determination testing and to begin a new project that grafts LOVE and DT together. alphys starts again, but she will not be beaten that easily by someone more cowardly and manipulative than her. the human had taken all softness and submissiveness out of her when they murdered her crushes and her creations before her very eyes. something new is created, something better than what had created flowey, leaving behind the test subjects horribly changed. she takes asgore’s dust and injects the solution into it. (it works.) 

asgore is not the kind monster he once was. he is made out of determination and LOVE and grief, a twisted parody of the formerly gentle ruler. he reveals what toriel forced alphys to do and leaves the public to remove her from the throne and cast her into the ruins once again. monsterkind is not as kind as what they once were. the human took their kindness and mercy from them. the affects of alphys’s allegedly forced subjects have strip almost all of the remaining softness from their fragile souls; all they can do is protect themselves, now. their king matches them-- he no longer feels regret and sadness for his past mistakes, ruling the underground as a benevolent dictator. (he can’t really feel anything anymore.) 

(undyne is not resurrected. only sludge remains of her, kept carefully in the true labs, carefully monitored for any hint that she is regaining her previous form. she never does.) 

papyrus struggles with his new position of power. he yearns for when his puzzles were not deadly and he could offer mercy instead of precise machines that are made to shed blood and battles that end with him grasping desperately at the control he has left. he prides himself on his low LOVE, knowing that he has much more restraint than most of the monsters underground now. he remains in snowdin, preferring the quaint town to waterfall because it reminds him of cyan spears, burnt spaghetti and clanking armor. the newly dubbed ‘mad mew mew’ watches over waterfall for him, her anger settling in nicely to the underground that has been born out of dust and LOVE. it’s easier to be himself there-- hotland is far, far away, and the comforting snow wraps around him like a blanket. (sometimes his fingers itch for a fight, for freshly spilled dust, for the high that comes from gaining another LVL. that’s when he secludes himself in his shed turned office and swallows down the urge to break something. it’s easier to remind himself of who he is and what his morals are when he’s not surrounded by bright snow; it reminds him of the glaring walls of the lab and alphys’s shaky hands as she injects him with another around of LOVE and determination. but sometimes he can’t get to his shed in time. sometimes asgore is at his back and sans is by his side and he has show his loyalty to the crown. sometimes if he does not pick a life then he will loose his own or stars forbid someone more innocent than he. sometimes he is showing MERCY in the best way that he can. he has never been so grateful for the ability to manipulate his STATS than when the itch has been sated and he has to wash his gloves before sans comes home.) 

sans doesn’t really change, or at least he hopes so. he still goes to grillby’s, still sells illegal hotcats, still wears the grimy old jacket that he usually does, even if it does need the occasional patch. the most that has changed about him is that his coat is now primarily red as blue cloth stopped being manufactured after asgore declared that all people within the government must wear red because it symbolizes blood and determination and LOVE as well as remembrance of the past and a promise for the future. it doesn’t bother him at all. people are more friendly to him now that he wears the color-- whether it’s out of fear or genuine respect does not really matter to him. he finds it hilarious that people see him as an important figure because of the color, but hey it does make it so more people buy hotcats. other than the jacket, the other thing that’s mostly changed about him is that he’s gotten a teensy bit less lazy. just a smidgen. he can’t afford to take real deep naps anymore because people might try and snatch him up for some free EXP or as leverage against his brother, but that’s really about it. (he ignores his STATS now-- he doesn’t like the reminder of how much that snot-nosed brat actually made him change for better or for worse. he hates changing. changing takes effort and effort requires the absence of laziness.) 

((if you can’t tell because of my wacky writing it’s a neutral ending au where undertale becomes underfell through dubious science and zombie kings.))

[badgertablet]

the reason papyrus cannot enter grillbys or come within 15 feet of the premise (a papyrusxundyne fic)

in which papyrus is a fantastic gambler— perhaps too much of a fantastic gambler. his winning streaks may or may not end up causing some bar fights, which therefore ends up having undyne called in for drunk and disorderly doggos. after that undyne finds that the source of the problems is one lucky (or cheating) boyo named papyrus. because she has no proof that pap is cheating or not, she decides to stay and take part in one of the games. nevertheless it ends up with one huge bar fight, an alcohol soaked Grillby, the entirety of the doggo guard in behind bars, and a life long friendship forged.

Papyrus is never allowed to go within Grillby’s again after that.

{also sorry anon i don’t ship undyrus besides in a platonic way :^( shes a big lesbian to me}

[badgertablet]

Isolation or brainwashing for papyrus

ao3 

When Papyrus wakes up, it’s to the sound of sirens. Someone is screaming— it’s high pitched, terrified. He blinks his eyesockets open, a strange exhaustion weighing down his bones. 

Red and blue lights flicker and dance throughout his vision, blurring with the rest of the scene that he tries to blearily look at. The incessant wail hasn’t stopped, and he lifts his hands to cover his skull.He has a horrible headache, and it feels as if that screech is drilling directly into his skull.

How irritating. 

He grimaces, then looks around warily. If he wanted that annoying noise to stop then he had to figure out what was causing it. Papyrus stumbles to his feet and he realizes his bones ache. It’s almost as bad as the first time he sparred with Undyne, so whatever had happened to him must have been big. First things first, though. Stop that screaming so he can concentrate. 

Sound wraps around him, suffocating. 

 He drags himself closer to the causation of his pain, sight blurring concernedly while he limps onward. The screaming somehow raises in pitch and volume and Papyrus wants to cry. If they could just shut up for a couple of seconds he could concentrate and help them. 

 It’s a child. They’re screeching, ruddy face screwed up in pain and terror, and Papyrus scoops them up. Tiny fists batter against his cranium and their body thrashes angrily like a fish out of water. Summoning up all of his patience, he forces his face into a smile and chirps, “WHAT’S WRONG, TINY HUMAN?

The wailing somehow gets louder. Papyrus is convinced that if their pitch goes any higher his skull will shatter. It kind of feels like it already has, but Papyrus shoves that thought away. He has more important matters. 

He hitches them onto his hip and notices that a binkie is clipped to their little shirt. Those are supposed to comfort and hopefully keep these little humans quiet, correct? He prays to any god that’s listening that it will work and delicately picks it up and pushes it against their mouth. They accept it, body beginning to stop it’s frantic movement and blessedly, blessedly, quiet down.

The sirens are still going, but now he can actually think. Thank god, Asgore, and Pretty Princess Mew-Mew or whatever her name was. 

 Papyrus straightens, wobbly, and finally looks around properly at where he is at. He’s in a grocery store. Weird. Their refrigerator was stocked, as well as their cabinets, so why was he here? The rest of his thoughts catch up to him, and the extent of the situation hits him. The store looks as if it had been torn apart, isles knocked over, dust and the stench of blood hanging thickly around him. Bodies litter the ground around him, and he spots where he picked the human up.

A woman lays on the ground in a fetal position, caked in blood and dirt. Her back is shredded, the blouse that she is… was… wearing glued to her wounds. He knows she is gone. He cannot feel the pulsing of her soul, and she is surrounded by dried blood. She’s been dead for a while. The pieces of the puzzle click together in his mind— the child, the crying, the blood, the position— she was protecting her child, the one in his arms, from whoever or whatever did this. His head pulses, and he strengthens his grip around the human.. They snuffle and curl into him, rubbing their chubby face into his ribcage. Papyrus forces himself to relax; he does not want to accidentally harm the human because of his distress. 

Why doesn’t he remember how this happened?

Dread curls in his soul, and he reaches up to his skull. Something in trickling down the back, making the hurt worsen, and he touches it. A flare of pain erupts, and Papyrus groans low in his throat. His fingers come back dirty with dust, marrow, and magic. He realizes why he doesn’t know what’s going on or what happened. He has a head injury. That was not good. That was not good at all.

Papyrus allows himself a moment to quietly freak out, and then pulls himself together. 

He had to get out of here. The smoke would harm the baby and he needed healing as soon as possible. Carefully, he picks his way to the shattered windows, glass and debris crunching unpleasantly beneath his boots, and clambers through the empty frame. 

Red and blue flashes across his vision momentarily before a white spotlight is put on him, and he covers his eyesockets with a shaky hand. He tries to yell for help, but his voice catches in his throat. He swallows, stumbles forward a few steps, and manages to croak out a pitiful “HELP, PLEASE—” before he’s cut off by a loud staticy crackle. 

Everything is bright and overstimulating. The baby in his arms begins to screech again, horrible sounds of anguish ripping themselves from their tiny mouth, and Papyrus swings from them from his hip to his chest, cupping his hand against their frail neck. He tries to concentrate on whatever the hell the person with the blaring speakerphone is saying, but too many sounds are trying to stuff themselves into his skull at once. 

Gunshots crack through the cacophony of noise, and Papyrus moves. He hunches over the baby, twists away from the police cars in front of him and stills when a bullet buries itself into the dirty pavement next to him. Everything is silent except for some quiet bloody gurgling from what Papyrus can only assume is one of the shot humans. 

If he was confused before, he is now downright stupefied. 

Whoever they are, they’re shooting other humans, they are shooting at him, they are shooting at the baby – 

The muddled confusion and panic suddenly stops when a smooth silky voice ripples from the speakerphone. It’s not the same person as before– this one is soothing and warm like butter, but terror swirls deep in his soul at the sound. His head goes light, fluffy. He doesn’t feel connected to his body anymore. 

(He can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing. Distantly, part of him screeches that it is a horrible, awful bad bad bad thing.) 

As smooth as honey, the voice directs him forward, away from the wreckage of the store and towards a heavily armed car. The baby is quiet in his arms, and Papyrus can’t bring himself to care why. All that matters is that voice. 

The door slides open and he climbs into the car while the baby fusses at being jostled, and a wave of deja vu sweeps over him. He’s been here before. He doesn’t remember being here, though, and that unsettles him deeply. 

A hand lays itself on his shoulder and lips press against his cranium. Part of him shivers in revolt but Papyrus still inexplicably leans into the touch. 

(He needs to get out. He needs to get out. He should not be here and he needs to get away right now. But. He can’t. His body is a twitching thing below him, grotesque and as of now, not his. He’s stuck. Again? Again.)  

“I’m so proud of you,” the voice says. It sounds like the last shovelful of dirt poured in a hole, like the last notes of a waning song, like the last crack of a gleaming soul, all covered up in thick cloying honey. 

The lips grin against his skull, and a long finger boops the nose of the baby lying prone in his arms. “We’re going to have to prevent something like this cute little bastard from happening again, hm? Still, considering your… previous history, I suppose this was to be expected with your first run without me.” Papyrus has never felt the stronger urge to hit someone, and he doesn’t even know this person. At least. He thinks so. 

His skull is turned, and his head wound inspected carefully. 

There’s a soft, tinkling laugh and Papyrus yearns to squirm away, but his body refuses to move. The voice speaks again, amused. “Ah, this is why the programming broke. Why you brought this adorable sack of shit back despite the orders to kill everyone in that store.” 

His breath hitches. He was the one that killed– no, murdered– all of those people? 

His frantic, disjointed thoughts are interrupted by a gentle coo against his skull, one that terrifies him even more than everything that has just transpired; it says, “I guess we’ll have to fix that for next time.” 

[badgertablet]

"sticks and stones may break my bones but words hurt me even more"

ok so the first thing i literally thought of was the ending credits of undertale where all the words turn yellow and attack you so: crack fic

once papyrus gets to the surface words just. start attacking him. he’ll be jogging down the street and a bright yellow word will pop out of nowhere and aim for his soul— it doesn’t really hurt, it’s more annoying than anything. eventually he finds out that negative thoughts he has about himself somehow physically manifest and attempt to take some of his HP bc his soul is tired of him being self deprecating

it’s a really wacky was of learning how to love himself but it’s the only way it works!!

so it’s basically a crack fic on how to love urself 101

[badgertablet]

loose story ideas i might expand on?

>frisk keeps resetting and flowey gets desperate. (pacifist route where instead of capturing the main gang and dangling them above frisk as he absorbs the six souls, flowey picks a vessel that he can actually control to contain them. that vessel is papyrus. he snatches pap up after everyone has arrived, drags him into the darkness and worms his roots into his soul. he’s complacent, submissive; monster souls have always been weaker than humans. he forces pap to absorb the souls by whittling him down to one HP, which kicks his survival instincts into motion so he inadvertently absorbs one. wash and repeat until all six souls nestle neatly in his rib cage. they can struggle against papyrus, and papyrus will be forced to wrestle them down leaving him open to flowey‘s control. pap has always been strong and precise; if any monster other than flowey would be able to keep them under control, it would be him. cue photoshop flowyrus battle, but instead of frisk being killed papyrus forcibly resets to the beginning of the battle whenever they hit one HP through... unconventional methods. the monsters remember.)

> things in the underground descend into madness. (already touched on this one— undertale turns into underfell. probably would be called utfell and would focus on papyrus attempting to juggle his morals and his new duties along with a horrible helping of LOVE and emotional trauma. fun!)

> papyrus never really wanted fame and adoration— just to be loved. turns out that he’s going to be getting the latter whether he likes it or not. (mk doesn’t have any parents. when undyne attempts to kill frisk, they abandon their fixation on her on their hope of having her be their guardian and instead focus on papyrus. this... does not bode well for him. he is meant to be forgotten, meant to slip quickly out of people’s heads, and mk seems hellbent on remembering him. papyrus is meant to be looked at from far away; that way his persona is picture perfect. as mk grows closer and closer things start getting fuzzier and begin to not add up. would probably explore mk’s transition from seeing papyrus’s flimsy mask to alll the inconsistencies beneath the surface and the aftermath of spilling the beans to the main ut cast. essientally a “everyone notices pap isn’t just a piece of sunshine and happiness” fic with a side of pap being a weird garbage can wine uncle parental figure to mk)

> doggo and papyrus being roommates and eventually fixing each other. (a trashy {friend?}ship fic where two stubborn idiots learn how to rely on other people and communicate. probably would be a very salty fic about sans which would probably lead into the skelebros making their relationship go from very unhealthy to borderline functioning with a frustrated doggo added to the mix)

> papyrus doesn’t have a soulmate. at least, he hopes so. (local fool pines after stretch, edge and slim while wrestling with his romantic identity. probably lots of sad pining and exploration of being on the aro spectrum but still wanting to love someone romantically.)

//please don’t steal//

[badgertablet]

Aaa for the made up fic title: Beneath The Moonlight?

chara takes their pound of flesh from frisk.

the aftermath of a genocidal frisk going on many bloody rampages before settling in on a pacifist timeline; chara refuses to let them have their happy ending after everything theyve done. it would have a very slow pace; frisk keeps waking up for no discernible reason, so they start making tea and other drinks late at night. (they always feel like theyre being watched, though.) eventually they also start getting sleep paralysis, which at first doesn’t freak them out but then they start seeing a creepy face everywhere and when they wake up the next morning after their paralysis episodes things are moved around their room. it all comes to a climax when they have a sleep paralysis episode where nothing happens— but when they’re able to move there is a fresh cup of tea next to their bed.

would be a psychological horror with a dash of lovecraftianness and frisk getting the real judgement and punishment they deserve. (take that, sans!) probably would have a major character death tag because it ends with chara taking over frisk’s body and soul, effectively killing them despite them having some sort of conciousness left. heavily inspired by “i am the pretty thing that lives in the attic”

((the frisk and chara that would be used would be my own personal versions of them, friday and charcoal.))

[badgertablet]

"the third eye opens. again."

this fic would definitely be about chara and frisk struggling over sharing a soul. unlike the canon timeline where frisk only gives chara their soul after a genocide run, frisk accidentally gives their soul to chara when they’re hugging asriel. (the iconic “i don’t want to let go” is most likely said by chara as when they say other dialogue they share the absence of a talk sprite and asterisk)