The first part of your story made me think of a question involving SF Purple Asgore and a sickly person (me ಥ_ಥ) What if they saw him baking for them and they helped him and ate the pie, but not long after, they where throwing up in the bathroom with blisters on their lips? 'I'm celiac, but you where working hard and it seemed good and I didn't want you to think that I didn't like your cooking or anything, so I ate anyway and-it was actually REALLY good, I'm sorry for all of this 💔 Q_Q '
Ah, an ask from my fic!?! I’m surprised and flattered. ;w; <3 ~ Mod Goblin
SF purple Asgore (still thinking of nicknames, sorry) would feel so horrible. Like, he really takes it hard. He should have asked if you have allergies or if you were sick. This was his fault and it could have been prevented. Once you’re taken care of, he’d hide away for the rest of the night. Where and what is he doing? You’ll never know.
Underfell and Swapfell Meta (aka the longest fucking post)
*You hear a distant sound of knuckles cracking. There is a shuffle, like someone sitting down and then a sound of rapid typing.
Let’s begin.
So. To start broadly:
What does it mean to “Fell” a timeline?
The original Underfell began as a simple concept: an alternative universe where “kill or be killed” was not simply Flowey’s bleak outlook, but the law of the land.
What I’m interested in dissecting here is how that law is enforced in both Fell and Swapfell, and how the societies these different enforcements styles influence the characters that populate it.
I’m going to start off with a similar origin story for the “kill or be killed” law, referring to characters by their roles rather than their names to avoid Asgore/Toriel, Frisk/Chara, etc confusion.
Essentially, both Fell and Swapfell already had worlds that were naturally more inclined to certain levels of brutality and violence, but these took a decided turn for the worst when the First Human and the Royal Heir made an attempt to break the barrier and were slaughtered by the humans living at the foot of Ebott. In a fit of grief and anger the Ruler Goat declared not only all-out war on humanity, but that until they were free of the barrier, the weak would be winnowed out of their society to ensure that when they Barrier collapsed humanity would be facing the strongest fighting force monsterkind could muster. This is the world that the Pacifist Child will eventually fall into.
This is where the timelines diverge.
I’ll start with Fell, for.....
reasons.
Asgore, regardless of universe, is inclined to make impulsive decisions, especially when under emotional duress. His Fell counterpart is no different in this. In his grief and anger he enacted the harshest forms of martial law, promising to his subjects that unless they were prepared to fight for their lives, they would not be allowed to keep them. Monsters as a society have a strong sense of communal emotion. They felt his anger as their own, and in the end, enough of them were incensed enough against humans that they were ready to follow his lead even down this darkest of paths. The few dissenting voices were soon too busy fighting off the others to rebel, and eventually were either wiped out or had adjusted to the new world order.
The first few years were pure anarchy. Monsters barely stirred outside their door, expecting to be preyed upon at any moment. Certain, more friendly and trusting subsets of monsters, like Whimsuns and Vulkins, were completely wiped out. Others, like Tems and Froggits, had their numbers severely reduced and were forced to become far more brutal. It was during this period that Toriel decided she had had enough and left for the Ruins. At first, she tried to create a safe space for monsters to retreat to, but the violence found its way into the Ruins until she eventually sealed herself off. She is disillusioned and cold, and can in fact be one of the most frightening characters in the Underground if you get on her bad side.
The anarchy wasn’t sustainable. Even if you are the biggest and the strongest monster in the area, you eventually get tired of looking over your shoulder for attackers hoping to get lucky. Anarchy transformed into Kratocracy, rule of the strong. Eventual pockets of relative order started to form around the Underground. As mentioned, Toriel held sway over the Ruins, and though she cared little what her subjects did amongst themselves, she made certain she and any of her children would be able to walk freely.
In Snowdin, Grillby was the major power player. His bar was a strictly no-weapons zone: customers feeling unsafe was bad for business. The fireman became landlord/ defacto mayor (of sorts) over the area. He was strong enough to protect clients that paid his rent (excessive though it was), and eventually, troublemakers were either killed off or contented themselves with picking off the occasional straggler in the forest. Disappearances are not looked into but a tenuous order is kept. When the skeleton brothers moved in for a while it looked like there might be a bit of turf war between Edge and Fellby. However, Red saw to it that an uneasy truce was negotiated between them. Red ensures the Grillby’s shadier activities are ignored while Edge uses his influence over the local chapter of the Royal Guard to punish troublemakers.
Despite housing the Captain of the Royal Guard, Waterfall is a pretty much the Wild West. Tem Village and Gerson’s shop are perhaps the only areas where you can afford to sleep for a few minutes and even then its like as not your wallet will be taken in the process. Undyne has too much on her plate to be concerned with being on the clock at her own house. The area is home to some of the Underground’s most brutal and aggressive monsters, as well as a hilariously out of place snail ranch, run by the one being in the Underground who literally cannot be killed. Napstablook is not a good-tempered ghost, however, and lingering near his farm is not recommended.
The Lab is Alphys’ small kingdom, and in addition to the Amalgamates that serve as her guard dogs (brutal and twisted reminders of what she can do to monsters that cross her), she also has the Captain of the Royal Guard on a hook, and Undyne will send extra protection to her for whatever reason.
Hotland is deceptively peaceful. Muffet and Mettaton duke it out in a resource batter but open warfare is ultimately detrimental to both of them. It scares off the customers. Don’t let your guard down, though. This town is not a fist to a face, but a knife in the back. Not to mention the graphic stories of what Muffet will do to you if you don’t have money for safe passage.
The road to New Home is....surprisingly unguarded. Perhaps a silent challenge from Asgore to test his mettle. Or maybe the rumors are true. The king regrets his decision and silently prays he’ll be deposed. Angry and embittered by his countless losses, and remorseful for what he’s done to the world he once swore to protect.
Ultimately Underfell is not a society with any kind of consistent ruling class. The citizens of Snowdin are more beholden to Grillby and the brothers than whatever the royals are saying. All you need to gain and keep power is to be both strong and wary. There will always be challengers, but the battle is in many ways honest. Schemers are few and far between.
The Underground also places a supreme amount of emphasis on the militarization of its citizens. Though the purpose has been muddied there is still a strong belief that the reason they are still doing this is to make sure humans will be facing off against the strongest fighting force imaginable. Strength, however toxic, is valuable. Brawn is also prized over brain. While a certain amount of cunning is always welcome academic types are regarded as highly suspect. Its hard to communicate to people perpetually in danger of being killed off that yes, your equations are definitely helping. Alphys’ predecessor was thrown into his own Core for not producing results in a timely manner, and she is forever paranoid of meeting the same fate. This is also why Red is even more reticent than his Tale counterpart about his background as a scientist. Ultimately its safer for him to be perceived as a thug than an engineer.
However, the primary theme of Undertale rings true through all the AUs. There is something at the core of these people that is good. Though they can be lead by bullies and tyrants, they have a lot of respect for courage and determination. This is how a Pacifist Human can win them over. The willingness to continue to overcome obstacles while sticking to your principles is a rare trait, but one that they find fundamentally compelling. Everyone is beginning to grow weary of the war, of the loss. Suddenly the possibility of laying down their swords doesn’t seem nearly as distasteful as it once might have.
Swapfell is a very different story.
Now, buckle up kids, Toriel dissertation time.
The canon on Toriel is very....nebulous at best. Honestly this probably stems in part from the fact that most aus are built from a single character up, and this character is more often than not a Sans or a Papyrus. Its also probably a result of Toriel not being a particularly popular character for lengthy character dissertations and examination in the way Alphys or Papyrus is. Most people tend to leave it at goat mom, so the shuffle of Toriel through aus tends to be very.....flexible.
This isn’t to shit on any particular version of Toriel. We’re all making this shit up as we go along with aus and people are free to like what they like and make what they make. However, for me, what I prefer to do with aus is boil an Undertale character down to an essential flaw and an essential strength and try to preserve that across aus. For Sans, its resignation and perceptiveness. For Papyrus, its lack of self confidence and loyalty.
For Toriel, the two things I tend to preserve for her is this. Her essential flaw is stubborness, especially as relates to her stringent ethics. What she prioritizes may shift a bit. I think the Swap generally leads her to prioritize the freedom of her people over the lives of individual humans. But what is unchanging is her unwavering dedication to them. Regardless of who she has to cut out of her life, she will dedicate her all to those ethics. And her greatest strength is her maternal nature: she has a strong desire to bring out the best in people she cares about, and will tend to nurture them whether they like it or not.
Now, a Fell version would twist this a bit. No matter how I looked at it I couldn’t see any version of Toriel making the impulse choice to enact kill or be killed. No matter how brutal the world that’s quite a leap to make, and I never see Toriel as a person inclined to rashness.
So rather than a royal edict, I believe kill or be killed was less the law of the land, and more an ethos that slipped in. Swapfell Toriel is a gifted manipulator. Her maternal nature and her known attachments to everyone Underground meant she would be trusted. So when she began her work, it never occurred to anyone to distrust her.
Toriel’s resentment didn’t only fester towards humankind (though that certainly was a part of it). In a way she came to resent the world around her. How they were all chasing a dream that many of them would likely never see the end of. They grew and overtime came to forget her children as they looked towards the stars and prayed to be rejoined to them. As much as she wished the children had never gone, at least they had gotten up to do something. At least they had acted. Would any of these monsters have the courage to?
So Toriel did what any good mother would do when she saw her child sitting listless. She gave them a little push.
Rivalries were exacerbated by her playing back and forth between them. She encouraged Gaster, then Alphys to employ harsher tactics on lower criminals, arguing that consistent parasites would hurt the Underground more and more in the long run. At the same time, she pulled them back from larger conspiracies unless it was too big to ignore, creating an environment that proliferated backstabbing and theft. Her favor was never guaranteed with any of them, and she changed her minds on decisions that her courtiers feared that her mind had been taken in her grief, which earned her the moniker “The Mad Queen”. If she’s crazy, though, its like a fox.
Kill or be killed did become the law of the land, in practice if not indeed. The understanding was that anything goes, as long as you’re not stupid enough to caught. However, rather than kratocracy (rule of the strong), swapfell is more oligarchy (rule of a few). Those who already had previous access to resources and enough ruthlessness to survive quickly rose to the top.
Grillby and Napstaton continually battle for supremacy over Hotland and are the primary resource providers for the entire region. Their employees have the highest mortality rate of the entire Underground, but the pay is also unspeakably good. And given that both of them charge heavy protection fees to anyone unlucky enough to live in that area, many are willing to weather the risks.
Undyne runs her own roost in the lab but it largely content to remain unbothered by the outside world. There are rumors of her kidnapping monsters that get too close and....modifying them, but she’d argue that she’s doing them a favor by making them stronger.
Alphys’ extreme anxiety is more understandable than ever. Her job as Captain of the Royal Guard has rapidly transformed from keeper of justice to keeper of power. She has to keep those in Toriel’s favor happy, even if they’re intentions are unjust. This has lowered popular opinion of her quite a bit, and many regard her as merely a lapdog with a hammer. It gnaws at her, as she still has a profound loyalty to her people, and when she can she’ll often try to get around her orders, but in general she tends to lock herself away to hide from the shame.
Muffet is not quite the powerhouse in Snowdin as Fellby is in his version, given that she prefers to keep to herself. Still, her bar is a well known front for most of the dirty deeds done in the region. She’ll keep your secrets, for a price, and has her fingers in the pies of pretty much everything going on Underground. She’s not as cold-blooded as she’d like to appear. Ultimately if you’re down on your luck she simply sends you on your way and doesn’t bother with you. But never, EVER, cut her out of a deal. Her pet is a hungry beast.
The bros I’ve gone into lengthy detail elsewhere, so I won’t deal with it much here, but they work in alliance with Muffet and try to keep their fingers on the pulse of the town.
Asgore left Toriel once he began to understand that her newfound hobby of pitting their people against each other wasn’t going to change. He had no larger goal in mind. His mind and heart were tired, and he simply wanted to spend his days in peace, nurturing his flowers and speaking to no one as he lived with his grief. However, the monsters of the Ruins have grown wicked with their years of isolation, and he is forced to resort to brutal techniques to stay alive. His trident is never far from him, and as we all know, daffodils can be highly toxic when pushed down one’s throat. Always keep an eye on his tea.
The Swapfell monsters are hands down the hardest to redeem out of the main four aus, but like Fell they have their softer points. In a world predicated on relationships most of them are naturally inclined to quite a bit of loyalty. Friendship is a risky business, but almost all of them have a person they would sacrifice anything for without question. For the bros its each other. For Alphys, Undyne. For Grillby, Fuku. You see how it goes. Getting in good with one will ensure that the other is more likely to go easier on you. They also have an inherent respect for craftiness. Where Underfell monsters will mock and despise you for dodging attacks and running away, Swapfell monsters have an appreciation for a tactical retreat and may even praise you for avoiding getting a scratch on you the entire battle. Ultimately, they’re all tired of this long dark period, and would welcome the opportunity for peace, for no longer looking over their shoulder. The Human only has to convince them to admit that to themselves.
Cringe finds a new place
And meets some more people
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Sounds can be heard up a head for several tail-lengths before they actually find the room.
The noises coming from this unknown place are ones that Cringe is familiar with from his infancy - a nursery! Though his clan was nomadic, when it was time to settle down with new children they would often pick a coral reef in warm water and find a safe place for all of the mothers to rest while they hatch and birth. This place seems to be no different, with a spot for the expecting in front and those nursing and lying with their mates and new children in back.
It is a rather nice location, tall ceilings for the youngest to learn to swim, no harsh or sharp edges; there is even a hot spring denoted by boiling bubbles in back, giving the entire cavern a comfortable temperature. It isn’t too far off from what his clan would pick at all.
The room sparks with laughter when Vermilion brings in the soon-to-be mother; the first image everyone gets of Cringe is a frustrated and disgruntled glare at nothing desirable, as if he is fresh out of a fight with his mate. He drops the expression and flushes quickly, startled at the room’s reaction. He mostly receives sympathetic stares and understanding snickers; they all at least know what it is like to be carrying your first clutch. There is no one way to pinpoint the women, but the word submissive is entirely absent from his mind. No one is small like him, they’re all whales in comparison (or, perhaps, he would be a guppy), but the monsters’ top halves vary widely. While he had come to understand that there are more types of mers than just skeletons from interactions with other tribes his passed on occasion, it was strange to see them all mingled in one place. Shouldn’t a tribe have just one type? Surely all these different mers couldn’t just live together, right??
He feels entirely self conscious when the other expecting mothers carry 5 to 7 eggs, and he chances a look down at himself to see the 2 remaining. It was... abnormal, then, to have such a small clutch. Well, the asshole still carrying him should have considered that when he stole Cringe from the ocean’s floor. Vermilion seems jovial, uncaring or oblivious to any flaws his chosen mate might have and chirping to the women as he settles a place for Cringe among them. The cushion for Cringe is significantly smaller, as if meant for a child of their kind, but it fits him perfectly - which just serves to annoy him far more than it should.
The women positively coo over Cringe, one rubbing his skull softly as another gently pats his stomach, feeling the eggs inside. He bristles at the sudden touching, withstanding it for only a moment before slinking his way back towards Vermilion without realizing it. It wasn’t his intention to hide behind the mer that so boldly claimed him as a mate, and yet he is the only familiar creature in the room so it is exactly what he does.
That doesn’t mean Cringe has to like it.
The mer rubs his face and presses his teeth to his skull in a chaste kiss before settling Cringe back on his cushion and sighing apologetically to the ladies. They simply giggle, forgiving the faux pas. Cringe lets out a noise of displeasure as Vermilion pulls back to leave, staring after him helplessly as he swims off.
A pang hits his chest. He watches his claimed-mate’s tail disappear into the caves, leaving him alone in the unknown. It’s far too familiar - the sorrowful ache, the dread that he’s already forgotten. It makes his soul race and he sucks in through his gills harshly to forget these feelings. Not far behind is the rush of panic that one of the unfamiliar mers might have caught him grieving; he checks his tail out of force of habit to make sure that his fins haven’t started to droop with emotion, then remembers that they no longer exist to give away his mood. He lets his shoulders fall and just stares after the hole where his not-mate left.
Once Vermilion has gone, the ladies all settle into a lounging position that appears far more comfortable on their rounded bellies than the upright and alert positions of greeting they offered their guest. Cringe flinches, looking back in confusion as one of the mers who touched his belly before brushes his spine with a fin. She stares back, seeming just as confused by the little mer’s response. Everyone is so... touchy in this clan. At home such a gesture would be considered rude and condescending. Though perhaps that’s just how it is here, mers touch and be touched casually; they mean no offence by it. He lets the thought sink in for a moment as he watches the offending mer for a response. She lets out a calming, apologetic trill in response. It seems she accepts that touch was not the way to interact with this foreign mer. He nods in response, showing calculated appreciation for her restraint as he relaxes some…
They all seem so fascinated by him - particularly his size. Several women approached with deep concern, not realizing that the newly mated and soon-to-be-mother was in fact a fully grown adult and not a traumatized, orphaned child. More than once Cringe had to open his mouth to show them his fully-grown set of teeth; thankfully the amount of teeth that a mer-adult has is fairly universal, so the message got across with the concerned mothers blushing and swimming away embarrassed. After the first few times it went from ignorable to irritating - does he really look that much like a child to these people!?
His ego bruised a bit more than he’d like to admit, Cringe curls around his middle. The mate of the lowest creature in the clan - maimed and too small to hold more than two children in his womb… Cringe hasn’t felt a blow to his pride this bad before in his life.
Then again, the women here didn’t react negatively to his mate at all… they seemed almost friendly with him. If this were Cringe’s clan and the lowest mer tried to get within even a foot of the carrying he would be beaten until he could hardly crawl away. Perhaps this clan is different in their handling of class; however Cringe, despite witnessing this clan’s actions, still finds it hard to believe that such strange merpeople can exist.
Cringe’s drooping must have caught the attention of one of the caretakers here, because he feels a strong ‘woosh’ of water trill by him as two muscular, silky arms drop a load of sea-fruits by his head. Cringe’s neck snaps up fast to face the largest mer he has seen in his life - and in the past 4 hours he has seen some very large mers. The mer doesn’t look entirely unfriendly, smiling softly as his beard floats behind him in the water. He, much like the other hunter and fighter mers, bares scars down his body, from his face to his chest and down to his tail. A pair of horns jut from his maine, marking him as a Boss Mer - one of the most powerful and deadly mer.
Cringes eyes widen as he quickly makes himself small (something that is disgracefully easy for him) in a show of respect for the obviously superior mer. The larger just chuckles, shaking his head and pushing forward the food. It dawns on Cringe that he must be the guardian of the nursery - it would make sense, with the flecks of grey marking his beard and the dullness seeping its way through his scales. He is nearing the end of his life - though Cringe imagines it was a long and adventurous one.
Elders are yet another subject Cringe has little knowledge on; the old in his clan were destined to die once as they are unable to contribute to the school. That is, if one made it to such an age before they either took ill, or were eaten, or got trapped, or separated… really, there were a lot of ways to die when your clan is moving around every few weeks. For this man to be as old as he looks, he must be not only powerful, but very well loved to be given a place in their society even as his use dwindles.
Cringe decides that befriending such a man would be wise and propels himself upward with a bone, gliding to a ledge to be closer to eyeline with the giant mer. The man seems both greatly amused and impressed by Cringe’s effort, and the smaller chooses to be flattered rather than offended by the slight chuckle of a response.
He carefully draws at his magic, mindful of the eggs. He has already used a bit too much magic today, and while before such an action would hardly phase him, the babies do not seem very fond of him exerting himself in any way. The Boss-Mer watches him with a similarly wary expression as he lifts up the fruits with his magic to his new perch and peels them with skilled fingers. Ignoring the pain in his tail he shifts it infront of him to sit casually as he prepares every single pod that had been put before him. He is more thankful now for his mother than ever before - she had insisted he learn to shell pods even as he bid to be a hunter like the clan’s strongest. The skill, once put before him, had to be mastered, as Cringe is not satisfied with a half-perfected talent. Even though he thought it to be a waste of his time then, the look that the boss-mer gives him when he sees Cringe go through the pile of eight in less than a dozen breaths makes it all worth it.
He beams with pride as he hands over a shelled fruit to the huge merperson, letting him sample Cringe’s work. He thanks his mother internally for sitting him down for all that time when he was so young. His hands subconsciously wrap around his small bulge of a stomach as the mixed emotions play out in his mind.
The boss-mer is obviously impressed with Cringe, swimming off and returning with a handful of pods for Cringe to work with - which, considering it is his handful, is quite a bit. Cringe smiles, relaxing some. A task… something to occupy his time with that isn’t sitting around being an incubator! He quickly gets to work, keeping his pile of fruits off to the side so that he can snack on them as he carefully peels and prepares each stalk. There isn’t a plant given to him that he doesn’t recognize, having traveled so much in his life.
He gets into a rhythm and quickly loses track of his thoughts. His mind wanders back to his mother; the food lessons, he realizes, weren’t just lessons. They spent a lot of time together picking seaweed and deboning fish. It was… pleasant. He was glad that he got to know her so well. His mind jumps forward to his own babies - will they want to learn to prepare food, or will they be out with their father doing… whatever it is Vermilion does when he isn’t near Cringe…
Huh… it’s funny, Cringe never really thought about what role his captor has in his school, other than ‘subordinate’. He supposes that the mer may be good at medicine, perhaps a student or co-apprentice of the Undyne mer; it would explain how he was able to heal Cringe so well. Though he hasn’t actually seen Vermilion do any kind of medicine work. There were also his hunting or fighting abilities that Cringe hasn’t yet had a chance to gage; perhaps he is strong. Perhaps he is one of the hunters - like the ones that Cringe saw take down the porpoises - taking leave so he can mate? Or maybe he’s a guard of some sort?
He’ll have to find a way to sneak out and follow him one day now that Cringe is starting to build a mental map of the cave system.
In his thoughts Cringe failed to notice the pair of eyes watching him until he happened to turn his head just right to see them staring right at him. The little red dots are just startling enough to make him jump and throw the pods that he had been peeling up with his tail. He fums as the child snickers, despritely trying to snatch up the pods before they fell out of range of his arms. Cringe really doesn’t have the strength to go chasing after them and get back onto his tall rock.
And he really happens to like being up here. It makes him feel big.
The little brat swims after the fallen food as soon as they get over their fit of giggles. They swim back to him and drop the load off to the side. Cringe nods his thanks, peeling off another stalk to get started on. The mer sits next to him, tail curled up under them. They are a human-type mer, with mostly humanoid features, save for their unnaturally red eyes. Cringe met a pack of those living in the more temperate regions in the north; they happen to be rather weather sensitive when it comes to the cold. Honestly, he’s surprised that even this moderate temperature isn’t too cold for them.
They seem to be just at the age where they should be leaving the nursery; however it isn’t too odd to see them here yet. Cringe imagines they are probably taking on their first duties, whatever that may be, and returning to the nursery at night. That is, if they can survive that long away from the heated pools in back.
He doesn’t pay the child much mind until they reach their greedy little fingers towards his finished pile. While cringe’s overall speed may have been damaged by his injury, he can still move his arms just as fast as ever, and he doesn’t hesitate to dart a hand out and slap the creature’s wrist. No. Bad. Children do not just take what isn’t given to them.
The human-mer seems genuinely offended by this, clutching their wrist and frowning. Cringe simply raises a brow, looking amused. Pouting won’t work on him - he had too many sisters, both younger and older. When they realize their attempts are in vein they simply lay on their stomach and moan, sounding defeated. Cringe rolls his eyes and reaches his hand over to his own pile of fruits. There is plenty of food that he doesn’t have to worry about being left out of the lottery anytime soon, and these are probably meant to be dinner for the children here anyways. He scoops up one of the smaller pods and breaks in half, keeping one in his lap for himself while offering the other out to the kid.
They perk up, reaching for it a little too quickly for Cringe’s liking, and he holds it back until they politely request the food. They take it and sit on their tail, munching on it contently as they watch Cringe with curious eyes. They stare at his tail long enough for him to become self conscious, sitting up a bit straighter and making noises to take their attention back up to his face. To be fair, had he seen a mer as injured as he is when he was that young he would likely stare too…
Either way, he doesn’t like the way the look at him. He flicks his wrist, shoving them away with blue magic before doubling over in a cramp. The eggs have had enough of his tomfuckary for one day, and after all his moving around and flippant magic use they demand rest. When his abdomen settles he lays out on his back. He had shelled pretty much all of the plants, Cringe decided he deserves a rest. After all, it seems that the majority of mothers here have decided that it is time for a nap. Closing his eyes, Cringe sighs. Maybe he could get used to this place after all…
Some of my SwapFell designs!
There isn’t really a complete description for them yet. However, you can read a little itty-bitty thingie about them right here, if you want!
I’m planning on making the rest of the gang sometime in the future (maybe).
I’ve actually thought out quite a bit of a story for them, and, well...
It doesn’t really feel like a regular SwapFell anymore?
There are a lot of variations of this AU, but (somehow) they still remain in more-or-less-so the same format: small angry Sans, big drooly/pervy/stoner Paps and sometimes some Undyne with Alphys, etc. (<- not ALL of them, but A LOT of them)
I’ve been told that my versions of SF is “a lot more plot-y” (c) than the usual ones. It’s come to the point where I can’t really see any major connections between my SF and “their” SF, except for the whole “swap dem personalities” thing.
I might separate them into a whole new AU (because we definitely don’t have enough of those already amirite hurhurhur)? Like, branch them out of SF or something?
Help? Please?
(also, yes, Asgore looks like a freaking kung-fu master)
