In which Asriel is an edgy teenager, Sans is just trying to connect with his adopted son, Snufkin and Moomin are trying to live together, despite Snufkin’s extreme obsession with animal crossing, and their unconventional barrage of relatives is about to convene for an autumn feast.
Moomin was excited to visit his beloved Snufkin at his new hut, but Snufkin had recently discovered Animal Crossing and could not be persuaded to stop playing.
Moomin opened the door, humming happily to himself. His soft marshmallowy fur was well groomed in preparation, and he had one perfectly made pie in his little paws. It was apple gooseberry, Snufkin’s favorite.
Today was his first visit to Snufkin during the winter! Since he had persuaded Snuff to move into a hut that he built beside Moominhouse.
“Snufkin! Darling?” Moomin could barely contain his excitement.
“Hello, Moomin.”
A strange, hollow voice greeted him, wafting from the other side of the hut.
Moomin hesitantly stepped inside. He found a table piled a mile high with newspaper, and scraped aside enough room to put down the pie.
“S-Snuffkin?” He murmured.
From the dim lighting, a figure came into view. Hunched in a pile of blankets, strange eyed and filthy was his beloved Snuffkin - slaving away in front of a tiny hot Gamecube Machine.
“W-What are you doing?!” Moomin gasped.
“Animal crossing,” Snuffkin said. “Look, he has a little hat. I’m going to go fishing.”
Moomin glanced at the filthy screen and swallowed, trying to place a hand on Snuffkin’s shoulder. His beloved didn’t even react.
“Snuffkin, how long have you been playing this- this game?”
“4 weeks.” Snufkin said.
“Have you slept?!” Moomin gasped.
“You can catch cool bugs at midnight,” he said, without changing his tone. “K.K Slider comes on Saturdays.”
“No!!!” Moomin wailed, clawing at his fur.
Agony swept through him. What was this foul machine destroying his precious Snufkin?!
“Snuffie, please!” Moomin ran to the pie and came back, desperately showing it to Snufkin. He did not look up.
“Look, Moomin, I built you a house.”
“SNUFKIN!!!” Moomin’s eyes filled with tears. “I made your favorite pie!!! Baby! Please!”
Snufkin finally looked up. Hope raced through Moomin’s veins.
“H-here!” He whimpered, handing Snufkin the pie.
“Thank you, Moomin.” Snufkin said, robotically. He moved closer to his machine. “It can go in our house.”
“NoOOOO!!!” Moomin wailed. Snufkin began to stuff the pie into the Gamecube.
Sans was enjoying a nice cup of tea when the phone rang, and the hysterical voice of Moomin shattered the silence.
“Slow down there, chap,” He said, gently placing his tea back on the counter. “Tell uncle Sans what’s going on.”
He wasn’t really Moomin’s uncle - not exactly. But he had married into Moomin’s family when he wed Toriel last year. And Toriel was Moomin’s aunt, which made him Moomin’s uncle by marriage.
His nephew’s voice rose to a pitch that only dogs could hear.
“SDKL:FL:SJ:S SNFUKFINKINS:LKFJL!” He sobbed.
“Once more,” Sans said. ” Slower this time.”
“SnufkinsdlflAnimalCrossingd;faf;lk;ak;sdl;Playing;djd HE WON’T EVEN LOOK AT ME!” Moomin screamed.
“Oh no, relationship troubles, buddy?” Sans was sympathetic. He was having relationship troubles of his own.
Not Toriel, no, their marriage was a skeleton’s dream. But it was her family. . . they were having a huge dinner next week for the holidays, and he was anxious as to how he would be received.
He had only met a few people from her family - Moomin’s other aunt, Moomin Papa and Moomin Mama, and Moomin, of course. And his nephew’s eccentric boyfriend.
They were all very sweet, which made him very anxious. He was worried that his strange family would not be accepted.
“Invite everyone from your side!” Toriel had said, excitedly. “I want the Bonesmiths, the Asgores, the Moomins, and the Mymbles all together for our celebration!”
And he could not refuse her, even as her son spat at him from across the table. “Guess you’re gonna have to rob the cemetery, HUH Sans?!”
Asriel was not very happy about his new stepfather.
But Sans was letting himself be distracted from the real issue - his wonderful, sweet nephew’s deteriorating love life.
“Awh, buddy, I’m sure that he still loves you very much! He’s just a little bit hyperfixated right now,” Sans reassured.
“But- But it’s been over a month-” Moomin whimpered. “And the closest that we have gotten to a date was when he invited me to watch Raymond dance to K.K. “Bubblegum” with him.”
“Does he still message you?” Sans worried, suddenly very angry with his nephew’s boyfriend. He understood obsessions (especially with his brother Papyrus), but this was ridiculous.
“He texted me this morning to say that Joan was having a really great sale on turnips,” Moomin sniffled.
“Moomin. The turnips are only 89 bells today. A very good deal, Moomin.”
That was just not good enough.
“Okay,” Sans said. “You need to have a serious conversation with him. Go over to his house tomorrow and explain that you’re feeling isolated and ignored. And if you need me to, I can have a talk with the guy myself.”
“No, that’s okay,” Moomin said, perhaps a little too quickly. And it did make Sans’ heart sink a little.
You wear crocs to a wedding one time and suddenly you’ve lost face with the young ones forever. Never mind that it was his own wedding, he was as hip as the day was young.
Pun intended.
But perhaps Moomin should handle this himself, it was important for their relationship and it would help his sweet nephew grow a little too. Learn to fight for what he deserves.
“I’m feeling a little bit better,” Moomin sniffled. “Are we still on for the Harvest Festival?”
“Of course!” Sans said, fighting the wave of anxiety that suddenly washed over him. “Are the Mymbles coming?”
“I-I think so.” Moomin said. “When he was still talking, Snufkin told me that he was having trouble getting the invitation to his father. Apparently he kept shredding it. But he promised that they would come.”
Moomin brightened a little. “I’m really looking forward to meeting everyone. You’re bringing your entire family, right?”
Sans knew that he would never be able to escape this topic. His bones were as good as ground.
“Of course!” He said. “My family will be there, and all of us are rooting for ya, kid.”
“I love you, Sans,” Moomin sniffled, and his heart surged.
“I love you too, kid. You take care of yourself.”
If only his step-son were as affectionate, Sans thought, when he hung up. God, if only the rest of his own family were as sweet as Moomin’s family. He doubted that there was a bad bone in the entire Moomin line.
His own, on the other hand. . .
Which reminded him, he had to check in with them.
Papyrus swore that he would be there, but Sans was concerned about his other brother. His half brother, burden of his existence, destroyer of all family gatherings. Elegant enough to never wear crocs to a wedding, but jerk enough to never stop talking about it, either.
Awh well, it was better to get this next phone call over with.
The phone rang exactly 6 times before it was picked up.
“Bill? Bill Cipher? Are we still on for next week?”
