I ran out of free hours on CSP again (I know I really should just pay for a subscription) so I started to doodle the old school way. This was a warm up, trying to remember how to hold a damn pencil lol.
And then I started to cook
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I ran out of free hours on CSP again (I know I really should just pay for a subscription) so I started to doodle the old school way. This was a warm up, trying to remember how to hold a damn pencil lol.
And then I started to cook
Stress baking and two very hungry bitties
I see the Papyrus/Swap Sans, as skeletons that stress bakes/cooks whenever they are alone, or with other Papi/swaps. And I wanted to write this scenario for a long ass time!! If anyone wants more or want to make a request, please let me know. Warning: implied Fontcest, don’t like then don’t read!!
Edge (Fell! Papyrus) and bitty Horrortale Sans and Papyrus (different than original Horrortale brothers)
“SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THESE THINGS ARE TINY VERSIONS OF US?” Edge looks down at his brother, who has a small box, covered with a small fluffy blanket, in his arms and then to the silent box.
He could feel the familiar magic of the alternative Sans and Papyrus, but it was strange, like being near a small predator that was hungry and he didn’t know if he was meant to be the prey or provider.
”heh, something like that. Softy found them near a sewer drain, and.. we’ll take a look.” Red, such a stupid name, gently sets the box on the kitchen table and folds the blanket in half so the two of them could peek in.
“Fuck! Little shits!” Red growls as a tiny bone soars out of the box, cracked and with a faint bloody red glow, and nearly hits him in the eye socket.
Edge lets out an annoyed sigh as he grabs a sheet pan, and holds it like a shield as he peeks in. The pan takes a couple more hits before the tiny skeleton, which reminds Edge of Axe, or HT Sans, but tiny and worse for wear, as the bigger HT Sans and Papyrus had years on the surface and ate their weight in food and were slowly healing from the abuse of their world, tires itself out.
“BROTHER, YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO UNDERMINE A CAPTURED MONSTER.” Edge lectures his brother as he sets the pan off to the side, but will within reach.
“oh fuck off bro. Rus said that it fell asleep, didn’t know it was pretending.” Red grumbles, pissed that he has gotten soft of being on guard.
“HM, YOU MAY LEAVE THEM ON THE TABLE. GET DOOMFANGER INTO HER ROOM WHILE I MAKE SOMETHING FOR OUR… UNINVITED GUESTS.” Edge turns and returns to baking, something he got into after seeing his brother inhale Rus’ mustard cookies and tried to sneak more.
“yeah yeah, just don’t lose a fucken eyelight, sweety.” Red puns, knowing that his nicknames are the best way to get a small treat even when his bro is not in the mood to share some of his creations.
“GO BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND.” Edge huffs as he scans the box from the corner of his eye socket, keeping his magic close as a just in case.
A few hours later, Red leaves with a delightful bag of mustard cookies, with a box of other sweets to give to the other skeletons, and Edge carefully sets a plateful of monster food mini muffins, all different kinds, filled with his healing magic and nutritious.
The box stays silent, save for a few growling tummies, but Edge ignores it and begins cleaning.
He swallows the smile and chuckle wanting to escape as a very tiny, very dirty, very hungry HT Sans and Papyrus carefully makes their way out of the box, using the blanket and maybe some of their own magic, and sniff the mini muffins.
The Tiny Axe, maybe Edge should call him something else, take a small bite of a chocolate chip one and his soul skips a beat as he hear a tiny, soft, purr of delight.
‘It’s like Doomy all over again.’ He thinks as he continues washing the muffin pans, bowls, and such.
A small clatter almost makes him turn around, but he stays strong. Only a few minutes later, he would find the plate empty and melted chocolate spelling out, ‘Thanks’.
“Much little Doomy indeed.”
——-I don’t own anything, just the idea! Horrortale belongs to Sour-Apple-studios, UnderFell belongs to UnderFell (more or less), Undertale belongs to Toby Fox!
Stress baking and a very hungry Bitty
I see the Papyrus/Swap Sans, as skeletons that stress bakes/cooks whenever they are alone, or with other Papi/swaps. And I wanted to write this scenario for a long ass time!! If anyone wants more or want to make a request, please let me know. Warning: implied Fontcest, don’t like then don’t read!!
Edge (Fell! Papyrus) and bitty Horrortale Sans and Papyrus (different than original Horrortale brothers)
“SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THAT THESE THINGS ARE TINY VERSIONS OF US?” Edge looks down at his brother, who has a small box, covered with a small fluffy blanket, in his arms and then to the silent box.
He could feel the familiar magic of the alternative Sans and Papyrus, but it was strange, like being near a small predator that was hungry and he didn’t know if he was meant to be the prey or provider.
”heh, something like that. Softy found them near a sewer drain, and.. we’ll take a look.” Red, such a stupid name, gently sets the box on the kitchen table and folds the blanket in half so the two of them could peek in.
“Fuck! Little shits!” Red growls as a tiny bone soars out of the box, cracked and with a faint bloody red glow, and nearly hits him in the eye socket.
Edge lets out an annoyed sigh as he grabs a sheet pan, and holds it like a shield as he peeks in. The pan takes a couple more hits before the tiny skeleton, which reminds Edge of Axe, or HT Sans, but tiny and worse for wear, as the bigger HT Sans and Papyrus had years on the surface and ate their weight in food and were slowly healing from the abuse of their world, tires itself out.
“BROTHER, YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO UNDERMINE A CAPTURED MONSTER.” Edge lectures his brother as he sets the pan off to the side, but will within reach.
“oh fuck off bro. Rus said that it fell asleep, didn’t know it was pretending.” Red grumbles, pissed that he has gotten soft of being on guard.
“HM, YOU MAY LEAVE THEM ON THE TABLE. GET DOOMFANGER INTO HER ROOM WHILE I MAKE SOMETHING FOR OUR… UNINVITED GUESTS.” Edge turns and returns to baking, something he got into after seeing his brother inhale Rus’ mustard cookies and tried to sneak more.
“yeah yeah, just don’t lose a fucken eyelight, sweety.” Red puns, knowing that his nicknames are the best way to get a small treat even when his bro is not in the mood to share some of his creations.
“GO BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND.” Edge huffs as he scans the box from the corner of his eye socket, keeping his magic close as a just in case.
A few hours later, Red leaves with a delightful bag of mustard cookies, with a box of other sweets to give to the other skeletons, and Edge carefully sets a plateful of monster food mini muffins, all different kinds, filled with his healing magic and nutritious.
The box stays silent, save for a few growling tummies, but Edge ignores it and begins cleaning.
He swallows the smile and chuckle wanting to escape as a very tiny, very dirty, very hungry HT Sans and Papyrus carefully makes their way out of the box, using the blanket and maybe some of their own magic, and sniff the mini muffins.
The Tiny Axe, maybe Edge should call him something else, take a small bite of a chocolate chip one and his soul skips a beat as he hear a tiny, soft, purr of delight.
‘It’s like Doomy all over again.’ He thinks as he continues washing the muffin pans, bowls, and such.
A small clatter almost makes him turn around, but he stays strong. Only a few minutes later, he would find the plate empty and melted chocolate spelling out, ‘Thanks’.
“Much little Doomy indeed.”
——-I don’t own anything, just the idea! Horrortale belongs to Sour-Apple-studios, UnderFell belongs to UnderFell (more or less), Undertale belongs to Toby Fox!
So... Random thing that I thought was funny so here: How would Stretch Wolf and Money react to an s/o who knows about the machine stuff asking "Okay, so, purely hypothetical question: If one of you guys dated one of the others would that be considered narcissistic?"
Money - Blinks, and tilts his head then asks if you think all the Papyrus are the same person cause they're not. They basically share a name in his opinion, and that's it. They're completely different monsters with different life experiences, skills, and personalities. So, no he doesn't think that at all.
Wolf - Thinks about it, then shakes his head saying, "no." and that's it. Like Money, he believes they're all very different people.
Stretch - Also thinks about it, but comes to the same conclusion as the others. They're not the same person, even their magical signatures are different from each other's except for Sparrow, and Papyrus. So no, he doesn't think it's narcissistic.
I hope panties and religion kink ain't illegal on this site 👀
Blood is the demon hueheh
Some concept art for a future fic of mine! King Pap's design still needs some small tweaks lol
Fangs of a Brother Ch.2 - Preview
(Here is a preview of the upcoming chapter for a @bitchyfanfics on my patreon!)
The war between monsters and humans was a devastating one. It had dragged on for years, neither side giving an inch. Humans won some, monsters won others. In the end, the power of the humans’ soul and their determination proved to be stronger than the collective might of the monsters’ magic. Eventually they we were overpowered and pushed into defeat, forcing their surrender. It was after they had been forced to sign the peace treaty that the human’s viciousness, their sadistic nature, truly came to light. You see, humans wanted to make sure that they and their future generations would know of their glory, of their superiority, and how monsters would forever know their place. Monsters were weaker than humans, not deserving of their respect.
They were beneath the humans. They no longer had the same rights or recognitions. So why would humankind be forced to stare down upon their lesser, why should their lesser have access to the same limited resources that they, the victors, did? It made no sense to the generals.
So, combining the last of their magic, they drove the monsters to Mt. Ebott, sealing them away. No longer would they be forced to view them, forced to share or live with them.
However, we all know that the last laugh was on the humans themselves. Their stories faded, as did the evidence of the monsters existence. Those who once grew up with monsters, or fought across from them, slowly became fewer and fewer. Stories faded, their legends died. Admiration made way for speculation.
Monsters were a thing of fantasy for the humans.
But every monster knew this story, Grillby thought to himself as he looked out the windows of his café. It was a cold night, cold even for late December. He idly polished one of his many glasses as he stared out the windows, his pupil-less eyes following the snowflakes as they danced and wove through the night.
A continuation of the last post. He ran and caught up with sans and whoever he was talking to.