2020-05-01 1:00:26 ¶ ●

## Day 5: Build by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

Who said he couldn’t have it all~

2020-05-01 1:32:00 ¶ ●

## Day 6: Husky by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

Sometimes caution isn’t good enough.

2020-05-04 0:40:04 ¶ ●

## Day 7: Enchanted by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

All have a place in Ragel’s kingdom

2020-05-04 1:02:09 ¶ ●

## Chapter 11

Eldritch Corruption: Environment

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857010/chapters/53688574

——————————————————————–

Rot.

Ruin.

The dank and the horror, the corruption and the disease.

All dwelt in the dark, in the fetid waters and the festering muck, the moldering garbage and the hollow bones of what was once civilization.

Waterfall was not what it once was.

The limestone tunnels and vast rivers, crystal caverns and whispering flora, were once the jewel of the Underground. Beauty and peace lived in its cool, clear waters, serenity in its meandering paths, calm and contentment in its quiet, the music of the rain.

It was a place of majesty, and well adored.

No longer.

The light has gone from the crystalline stars that once lit its tunnels and caves, its homes and shops, the scenic vistas and parks and cities. The creeping shadow stole them all away, and left the denizens of the waters blind and starving, the plant life shrinking and the monsters ripping the stones from the walls in an attempt to consume them.

Many perished in the first few months, starving in the eternal night until they were no more. Many more were lost in their attempts to flee, drowned by the rising, filth clogged swamp, the dusty river, the foulness of the compounding garbage falling from above.

The rest adapted, and though what they became could not be called living, they survived. They strove on, against the call of nature and the will of the stars; they changed, the dark no longer their enemy, but their friend and ally.

Undyne strove for glory no longer, a hunter of the worst kind, prowling the deep endlessly. Temkind transformed into blind horrors, slavering for meat and desperate for destruction. Mad Dummy consumed everything in its path, regardless of what. Onion-san cared for nothing but the flow of blood and the shatter of bones, Shyren drowned those unlucky enough to hear her song, Moldbygg devoured any that came close enough to spring their traps.

Deep in the swamp, gorging on its vile waters and any fool enough to wander too deep into the dark, a beast dwelled in the impassable depths of its own misery, awaiting its death and that of all those around it.

The flora mutated as well, the whisper of voices in the shadows a danger untold and the rustling of vegetation the only warning prey would receive…

And above it all, the fall of the rain, swelling the deep and making music no more… singing only of rot and ruin and the end of the world.

2020-05-04 1:31:39 ¶ ●

## Day 8: Frail by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

What have you done

2020-05-06 0:19:39 ¶ ●

## Axetale FAQ

“Can I use Axetale to make an OC/ use in my story/ add to my multiverse/ draw a fanart?”
-Please do! Axetale is free to use. Go ham.

“Eww, Frans.” “Why Frans?” “Frans is pedophilia.”
-This AU was created as a spinoff of Horrortale, specifically to be a universe that contained Frans, by @uhhbananafrappe. It is depicted as a relationship between two consensual adults, both of sufficient age. If you can’t grasp that, or you don’t like it, you know where the door is. You will not be acknowledged or reacted to.

“How is Sans Aliza’s dad? He’s a skeleton.”
-He is a skeleton monster, not a dead human skeleton. Who’s to say what he can or can’t do? If you choose not to believe in that, or don’t know how to use your imagination, think of Aliza as a manifestation of Frisk and Sans’ bonded souls. No need to be explicit then.

“Where can I read the comics/ see the art?”
-Most of the art has been posted here, and there is a playlist of videos, dubs, and music on Youtube.

“How did Sans react to Aliza being his daughter?”
-With deep regret, considering his abuse.

“When is the fanfic being updated?”
-It won’t be. None of us are in the fandom any longer.

“Why didn’t Frisk reset?”
-Flowey is in control of resets.

“Will there be an Axetale comic/ more chapters?”
-No.
“What happened to the wiki?”
I got tired of people leaving horrible comments, editing my hard work, and just the general stress of having to deal with that website.

Any questions that can be answered from this list will be directed here, or will be deleted; likewise, any asks that I or Azul consider rude/inciteful will also be deleted.

## Please be respectful of us, the universe, and our time. Thank you.

2020-05-10 3:35:03 ¶ ●

## Day 9: Swing by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

Even in the worst of times, there can be joy.

2020-05-10 4:00:12 ¶ ●

## Day 10: Pattern by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

2020-05-10 22:35:27 ¶ ●

##

Has Aliza ever touched the locket? And if she did happen to touch it was sans mad at her?

No one is allowed to touch his locket. She knows better right off the bat, knows how special it is to him. …and he’d be mad if she did, yeah.

It’s private, and his. He’d give his girl the world… but not that.

2020-05-10 22:46:00 ¶ ●

##

Are Alphyses camera's still recording or have they been destroyed or used by sans?

All of Alphys’ cameras have either been destroyed or appropriated. In either case, there is no feed to the lab that still exists. The Amalgams destroyed all the equipment there long ago.

2020-05-10 22:55:38 ¶ ●

##

Aliza, I dare u to poke your dad.

Aliza snickered, covering her mouth with her palm, before leaning across the couch and, very gently, poking the tip of her finger into the void of her napping father’s stomach.

She jumped in surprise when the motion was rewarded with a loud, crude farting sound.
Sans chuckled at her surprise, cracking his whole socket open to peer at her. He lifted the edge of his jacket as he did, and a compressed whoopie cushion fell from inside and onto the couch between them.

“gotta wake up a little earlier than that to get one over on me, precious.”

2020-05-10 23:05:32 ¶ ●

##

Hey Sans, if you did manage to get a human soul, would you take it or give it to your brother? Would you try to escape, or wait for a second soul before trying to escape?

“i… that’s a hard one. if i took it, i could get out and find another one, pretty quick, i figure- aliza said there’s a city pretty close by. but… that would mean leaving my bro and my daughter here alone, saying nothing of even finding a way out without getting us all killed in the process. and if i gave it to him… i don’t know what it would do to his mind. i definitely couldn’t justify letting him leave without me to watch over him. …i think i’d wait. til we had enough for us all.”

2020-05-10 23:15:36 ¶ ●

##

If the all the monsters somehow got out of the underground, would the hunger and mutations recede? Would they continue to get worse, or would the hunger just be a scar they would live with for the rest of their lives. Also how many monsters are left in the underground.

If the monsters escaped the Underground, and the barrier remained in place to keep the disease trapped there, their Hunger would fade and the mutations would halt… but not reverse. Their disfigurement, and mental trauma, is permanent. Some could recover their faculties in time, but few would be able to live with the things they did. Any that didn’t fall from their own self-disgust would dust themselves.
As for how many monsters are left… probably less than 2% of the population, at this point. Around… 100,000 of the 5.5 million there were.

2020-05-10 23:25:32 ¶ ●

##

Hey Aliza, what would you do if another human fell in the underground?

She looks sick, looking down at her feet.
“I… I want to say I’d try to help them get out… but… my dad and Papy are sick, and hungry, and trapped here. A… a human soul could get them out.”

She let out a quickly hidden sob, her eyes swimming with tears.

“I-I… I don’t want to have to make that decision… I don’t wanna kill anyone, or… or let daddy kill them either… why does anyone else need to die…”

2020-05-10 23:35:54 ¶ ●

##

Sans have you ever yelled at Aliza?

Sans lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. He sends a glance to where his daughter is sitting at the kitchen table, tongue between her teeth as she scribbles on the paper of simple spelling words he’s given her to work on.

“…yeah, but i try not to. she’s just a kid, she’s still learning and growing, and she makes mistakes, just like anyone else. …she’s just not used to having someone… there. you know? to hold her accountable for what she does. it can get frustrating, sometimes… she doesn’t always like to admit that she’s in the wrong, and i’m not the best at controlling my temper anymore. i don’t like to yell at her, and she doesn’t deserve it when i do. it’s better when we can just… talk things through. she’s a person, even if she’s a young one, and she deserves to be heard, not talked over or down to.”

He looks disgruntled, fiddling with one of the ties on his hoodie.

“i’m trying to be a good dad to her. she never had anyone else but that bitch of a woman up top… i want her to know she can trust me, and look up to me. that i’m not just some jerk that tells her what to do all the time.”

2020-05-10 23:45:56 ¶ ●

##

First I just wanna say I love this au, I think the story and world building is really interesting and I love the character dynamics. Second, are the Fell and swap versions of this au canon? Thanks!

Axefell is canon~ we’ve worked on that one the most, and have a mostly established universe for it. The other AUs are less concrete, and are mostly up to interpretation, beyond very vague concepts.

2020-05-11 0:01:30 ¶ ●

##

Hey Aluza what do you think of your dads head "wound" and has he told you how he got it?

Aliza sent a glance to her father’s profile covertly, looking away again very quickly.
“He… that’s a touchy subject. He gets really angry, when anyone brings it up or if something gets caught in it and makes it hurt. He has to go to the basement for awhile, after. …all he’s told me is that a friend did it to him, and he’d be more than willing to… um. Erciprotate. …I don’t know that word, but he broke the table when he said it, so I have to guess it’s not nice.”

2020-05-11 0:11:53 ¶ ●

##

I'm always rooting for yours and your families happiness, Sans. When you get out of the underground, and I know you will, what would you want to do first?

Sans sent you a half smile.

“thanks, kid. and as for that… probably eat something that never had a face attached to it. …and then find my wife’s grave. ‘liza says she’s never been to it, that her gramma refused to tell her where it was. heh… bet i can get her to tell me.”

2020-05-11 0:21:45 ¶ ●

##

Hey sans have you interacted with any one else down here? Even if it was earlier in the corruption, like undyne or muffet?

He grunts under his breath, shrugging one shoulder.

“plenty. gotta get food from somewhere. …but you mean besides that, huh.”

He snorted quietly.

“there’s not a whole lot of point in trying to communicate. all anyone can think about down here is eating anymore… by any means necessary. even if i had the inclination to try to get ahold of old friends, they’d have no such interest… and traveling too far from home is dangerous.”

2020-05-11 0:31:15 ¶ ●

##

ACT > Kiss Cheek > Sans

Sans tenses, his hands clawing at his sides… but he allows the contact, drawing away immediately afterwards with a tight, tense smile.
“you’re pushin’ it, bud… but thanks.”

2020-05-11 0:41:53 ¶ ●

##

Hey sans how’s it going same question to Aliza. Also how many snow men are around town?

“eh. same old. aliza’s well, getting better with her magic every day. …hunger’s getting to her, but that’s inevitable.”

He looked quizzical at the question, raising a bony brow.

“snow men… you mean the things that roll around in the woods? those aren’t snow men, those’re traps. something lives under ‘em, some kind of rock monster, i think. i really don’t know for sure, i’ve never been curious enough to chance getting close enough to see for myself. so in town? none. they know better than to enter my territory.”

2020-05-11 1:07:14 ¶ ●

##

Hey sans I get question for you! Do you still drink ketchup or did stop it for so long?

Sans let out an aggravated sigh, sending his daughter a lighthearted glare when she giggled.

“no, i don’t. end of story.”

“Daddy, you drink ketchup?”

“it was a joke, i was being weird for a laugh. ugh… you have no idea how long it took to clean all that crap out of my rib cage after i did that… worth it to see the look on frisk’s face, though, heh.”

2020-05-12 19:28:11 ¶ ●

##

Sans has Aliza ever tried to run away from you? And here’s a little something for you * gives a bottle of ketchup* take care buddy.

Sans fidgets with the bottle, flipping the cap open and closed with an errant thumb. He looks… Guilty.

“yeah. i, uh. didn’t react well.”

2020-05-12 20:17:43 ¶ ●

##

Hi, where can I find information on axefell

There is an Axefell page on the wiki.

2020-05-14 15:24:00 ¶ ●

##

If someone with dangerously powerful healing magic and enough determination where to preform a true reset without eraseing everyones memory and bringing everyone back to life who died ( including asriel and Chara ) ( and probably barrowing some spider venom in the process ) do you think they might be able to cure everyone of the axetale virus?

There is no reset that can save everyone, no save state that still exists that can be a panacea, no matter how powerful or how good the soul. Some things will always be lost, and some things will need to be sacrificed to achieve the “cure”.

.

.

.

.

.

(Though, in your own world, you may do as you please, dear. It stretches the realm of believability, but I am not one to stifle imagination. This is only true of our canon. Create how you like~)

2020-05-14 15:40:04 ¶ ●

##

How would Papyrus act if he was just as aware of what’s happening around him like Sans?

The purpose of his self inflicted delusion is to spare his soul, his good, tender soul, the corruption of the world. Without the imaginary world he exists in, he would lose his mind entirely to the horrors and atrocities that he and his brother have committed, far too connected with his soul to live with himself. He is a strong monster, but his soul is too caring.

He would fall, and he would die.

2020-05-14 15:52:06 ¶ ●

##

Hey Aliza has your dad ever told you about a talking flower?

Aliza blinked, sending her father a glance. His face has hardened, his jaw locked, and his hands are clenched so hard his knuckles creak.

“Yeah, he’s warned me to stay away from any I see. Dunno why, though. Mama’s journal said the talking flowers were just plants. Eee… Eech-oo flowers. They copy your voice, like a party trick!”

Sans’ stony expression cracks at that, and a chuckle escapes him.

“echo, precious. eh-koh.”

2020-05-14 16:02:03 ¶ ●

##

He Aliza what do you think of your grandmother and what does Sans thinknoff her?

Aliza shrugs stiffly, looking down to the toes of her shoes.

“She was sick. I don’t think she meant to be so mean to me… She took care of me the best she could.”

Sans scoffed, in the background.

“she beat you, didn’t feed you or clothe you, and refused to teach you anything. bitch can rot in a hole.”

“Daddy!!”

“sorry, honey.”

He doesn’t sound like he is.

2020-05-14 16:11:15 ¶ ●

##

Why won't Sans axe-cept my love 💔

His expression is dead-pan.

“think you know why.”

2020-05-14 16:21:30 ¶ ●

##

Has Aliza ever went hunting with you Sans?

“no. hunting is my job. hers is to learn how to defend herself, and to know when to run. when she’s older, more able, i’ll teach her. for now, though, its too dangerous.”

2020-05-15 20:45:13 ¶ ●

##

Hey sans, papyrus, and aliza. do u know or remember who gaster is?

Sans expression freezes on his face, his smile stiff and cold, but neither of his housemates seem perturbed.

Papyrus strokes his mandible in thought, humming and smearing what can only be blood across the bone.

“THE NAME IS FAMILIAR, BUT I SIMPLY CANNOT PLACE IT, ANONYMOUS HUMAN WITH VERY FLATTERING SUNGLASSES!”

Aliza seems of the same sentiment, fetching a tattered but clean rag from the sink and stretching up on her toes to wipe her uncle’s face clean.

“I don’t think so either… I don’t remember seeing the name in mama’s journal. Were they a monster? Probably gone now…”

Sans coughs meaningfully, glaring at you. He shoos Papyrus back to his cooking, taking the rag from Aliza and wiping the counter clean idly, almost like he’s searching for something to do with his hands.

“gone for good. so there’s no need to talk about him.”

“But… they wanted to know-”

“he’s dead. that’s all there is to it.”

2020-05-15 20:57:41 ¶ ●

##

act>scare>Aliza

Aliza dropped the cup she was holding, jumping and squealing reflexively. Hand to her chest, she let out a terse laugh, a slow smile creeping across her face.

“C’mon, that wasn’t very nice… you made me spill my drink.”

2020-05-15 21:05:34 ¶ ●

##

Sans, do you hurt yourself? Either on purpose or by accident?

“…sometimes. never so bad that it affects my hp, but enough to, you know. hurt a bit. a cut here, a piece of my skull there. it grounds me, especially when the insanity is really bad. i try not to, especially around aliza, but… it’s quick and easy catharsis.”

2020-05-15 21:15:31 ¶ ●

##

Aliza what are you eating during your stay? I assume sans isn’t letting you eat monsters.

“Well… in the beginning, I had some food that I brought down with me… but it didn’t last long, even though daddy didn’t let me share it. He finds cans sometimes that he gives me, too… but most of the time, meat is all there is. He doesn’t like it, but… um. I really don’t mind… I get so hungry…”

She looks guilty, and sheds a single tear tinged with blackness.

2020-05-15 21:26:08 ¶ ●

##

Sans how far do you let Aliza explore? Just wondering

“she’s allowed to explore the village on her own. i’ve fenced it all in over the years, and most of the other monsters know to keep away, so it’s relatively safe. when we go out to “maintain the puzzles”, i let her wander the woods a bit, too. not far enough that i couldn’t reach her if she got in trouble, though. so… not that far, ‘spose.”

2020-05-15 21:37:23 ¶ ●

##

I have a question for sans and Aliza. Has Aliza ever had a nightmare with sans in it? If she did could she tell us a little bit of what happened in that nightmare?

“if she has, she’s never told me,” he mused, rolling his gaze over to his suddenly very quiet and shifty-looking daughter. He quiets, face falling.

“…i assume that’s a yes. you don’t have to talk about it, honey.”

She sniffled, reaching out silently and plaintively, and buried herself under his arm when he opened them to her, hugging his chest and shivering.

“I-it was… after I tried to run away…”

His expression creased with guilt, his whole socket shuttering and his hands rising to hold her close.

“i’m so sorry, aliza.”

She didn’t respond, but leaned her head against his chest trustingly, more telling than any words she could say.

2020-05-15 21:45:27 ¶ ●

##

*Throws a banana at sans and runs away*

Sans catches the fruit reflexively, puzzled by its sudden appearance. There’s something he doesn’t like about it… but he shrugs his shoulders, stands from his seat on the porch, and shuffles into the house.

“hey precious, found somethin’ pretty ap-peel-ing for you.”

2020-05-15 21:55:12 ¶ ●

##

Hey aliza if you could would you play charades with your dad. Or have you

“Chahh… rad… aees? What’s that. A game?! I like games!” she crows, pulling her father’s sleeve eagerly, and Sans huffs out a chuckle, looking over her shoulder at the request.

“pronounced sher-aides, precious. it’s a game where one person acts out a word, without speaking, and the others have two minutes to guess what it is. wanna try it? pap used to love playing,” he commented, attempting to smooth down a stubborn lock of hair on the top of her head while she bounced in place eagerly.

“Oh yes please~”

2020-05-15 22:05:22 ¶ ●

##

Hey sans how do you keep electricity going too your house?

“generator, for the house and the fence, and runoff from the core. core energy has been weak for a long time, though, and fuel is getting a bit sparse, so we really only run electricity at night now. we have a fireplace, plenty of wood around for it… a well for water. we get by.”

2020-05-15 22:15:49 ¶ ●

##

[1/2] I'm... gonna be honest. Sans, if I had a dad, I'd want him to be like you. I mean, Ik my dad and we talk sometimes, but we can't ever have a "normal" conversation without him bringing up how he 'speaks for God'. I know be can't really help it, but when he thinks he exists JUST for that reason, he throws the whole prospect of 'I have kids' out the window. I love him to death, and nothing will ever change that, but I just wish I could remember him as 'The dad who was dad', not just..'dad'. ❤

Sans smiled half-heartedly, looking down and kicking his sneaker at a snow poff.

“my old man was like that. he was good to us, made sure we were taken care of… but his work always came first. i never really knew him, even when i worked with him at the lab. so… him being gone barely means anything.”

He shrugged one shoulder, raising his gaze to watch Aliza and Papyrus playing in the snow outside the house.

“i didn’t wanna be like that. not for pap, when my parents fell and i took custody of him… not for any children i might have. i wanted to always be there. i wanted them to know i loved them, and that i’d do anything for them. i don’t… always do the best job. i mess up a lot, especially with aliza. but i’m trying. all we really have is each other… and when i fall, i want her to remember me in a better light than i do my father.”

2020-05-15 22:30:23 ¶ ●

## Day 11: Snow by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

Never trust a friendly face.

2020-05-15 22:45:19 ¶ ●

## Chapter 12

A Creature from the Deep

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857010/chapters/53929324

Shadow gathered, dark and heavy, on the surface of the deep.

Thunder rolled, in the near and far, tumultuous waters falling from far above, coalescing into pools and streams and cascading rivers of sound and dust and despair. The rains fell without care, bringing to bear fruits that had no place in nature…

And beneath the tides of the dread abyss, silent as the grave and thrice as deadly, a predator stalked her unsuspecting prey.

She made no sound as she broke the surface of the waters, fins perked and clouded eyes pinned to the cloudy outline of her unfortunate victim; she offered no warning, unnoticed beyond the crashing of the many falls and the rushing of the stream and the crunch of loose gravel at her quarry’s feet.

There was only the fierce rush of anticipation in her veins… the victory of complete success in battle, and the heavy, solid slam of her body into theirs, throwing them both to the ground in a pile of flailing limbs and clanking armor and hearty growls.

Papyrus’ surprise was worth the extra trouble. He rattled with both shock and admonition at being ambushed so, despairing the state of his own armor and the pebbles that had gotten into his eyesockets, but quickly forgot his arguments in lieu of joining her furious wrestling match, bony arms and jagged claws and gruff guffaws of laughter breaking through the, to any outside party, apparently deadly embrace.

It was anything but… this meeting was the least dangerous gathering the Underground had seen in a decade.

Undyne wouldn’t hurt the skeleton monster in her grasp for the world, would rather die before she did, and all those present, Papyrus, Undyne herself, and even he knew as much.

Sans trusted very few, after all… even fewer, in their ruined world and his own fervent madness. But even he knew her sincerity. Her desperate need for something… anything of what had once been.

He could hardly blame her. He knew the need for such just as fiercely. Despite their murderous hatred for each other… despite his selfishness in clinging to what was left of what he had once had.

He knew.

It was why he let her near his brother at all, saying nothing of getting to “train” how they did every few weeks… he stayed near, out of sight at what had once been his sentry station but close enough to intervene if anything went awry, but he didn’t interrupt them. He let them frolick, splash about in the tide pools, chase each other and swim and chat about things that had long ago ceased to matter and simply…

Be.

It was star sent, and didn’t happen nearly often enough for her liking. She’d see him every day if she could, just like they had before… he’d been her best friend, and he kept her more centered than anything had in what seemed like forever.

But she knew, just as well as Sans did, that the Hunger would not wait forever.

Papyrus could pretend, could act as though nothing was wrong all he wanted (he’d paused, when they took a break to breathe and laugh; he’d noticed she looked worse than last time, she knew he had), but she knew better. She knew what she was, what she had become… knew that the darkness that crept at the edge of her mind would return despite all her longing and hope and sheer determination to cling to sanity.

She would have to slink back to her swamp before long. She would have to submerge herself again in the dark and the disease, give in to the gnawing of the instinct clawing at the inside of her head… she would need to feed, and kill, and commit every treason against what she had once stood for in egregious order.

But not now.

Now, she stood, and tossed the chattering skeleton over her shoulder, and threw him into the nearest pond with a laugh as loud and raucous as a crow’s caw, diving in after him as he rose to the surface spluttering.

She could hear Sans chuckling from his seat around the bend, but paid him no mind. She had no mind to spare.

She had to make this last.

2020-05-15 22:57:03 ¶ ●

## Day 12: Dragon by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

Royal no more.

2020-05-31 7:29:38 ¶ ●

## Day 13: Ash by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

it’s all your fault

2020-05-31 7:43:48 ¶ ●

## Chapter 13

What Lives in the Wires

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857010/chapters/59048290

Lost to the dark and reclaimed by time, the imposing face of a monument built to both beauty and ego stood in dreadful silence, doors gaping in a silent scream, many windows blank and shattered, staring into the heaving, deadly mist that spewed from it in tumultuous waves with the eyes of a rotted corpse.

Mettaton’s shrine to both himself and the world of entertainment was a husk of its former self, and now stood as the only barrier between the rest of the Underground and the inner workings of the grand and terrible machine that towered over it, casting an unmoving shade across the fields of lava, the columns of rock and cliffs of volcanic glass, and the empty, collapsing homes of forgotten monsters all.

The CORE would not be forgotten, though, and would not be silent.

It clanked and groaned and whined, a hulking beast in the throes of death. Pipes burst and fell to become slag in the lava it fed from, releasing screaming vents of steam to join the howls of pain and hunger staining the arid, dry winds of Hotland.

Within it grew a danger none knew but all should fear, and grew deadlier each and every day…

Yet through the meandering and endless hallways crawled the last vestige of beauty that remained in the Underground, unheeding of the danger posed him and quite content to remain. Radiation had no effect on him, after all… he had nothing to fear from corruption or disfigurement.

He was barely alive to begin with.

“Aaaaaaaand now it’s time… for the Mettaton Show! With your host and role model, Mettaton!”

And eerie wailing and a flashing of deep magenta filled the hallways, the crackle of static and the canned sound of recorded applause rising above the clanking and settling of the enormous machine; a scrambling of claws against latticed steel followed a moment later, and from the growing darkness of one of the halls, lined with destroyed panelling and live, sparking wires, a haggard, wide eyed monster skittered, a matted wad of blood and bone remaining behind where an ear used to be and scarred maw gaping for breath.

The monster, bandaged tail whipping about his heels as he loped frantically away from the hall he had just emerged from, skidded into a turn at a whim, slamming into a wall and raising a cacophony of noise, and in his wake, in no obvious rush but in clear pursuit, trundled what appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a calculator riding a unicycle, flashing bright lights across the walls and floor and domed ceilings of the halls it passed.

A broad, stark smear of blood covered its front and dripped to the metal floor behind it, utterly unheeded.

The static and applause seemed to be coming from the robot, finally ceasing only when the monster that was almost assuredly attempting to escape it came into view (view? It had no eyes, to all appearances, only bearing a shattered display screen, on which blinked nonsensical LEDs, and several just as clearly broken dials, one missing entirely and the rest cockeyed), at which point the calculator raised the single, cartoonish, gangling arm dragging at its side on the ground, bearing what looked like a microphone, severed from a dangling cord.

“Welcome to tonight’s show, our seven wonderful viewers! We bring our first news report to you live, straight from the center of Waterfall, where an impromptu parade has started, celebrating the marriage of our princess and the judge of souls! What a day for monsterkind! Carol, I understand you’re overlooking the scene?” it exclaimed in a carrying, animated voice that filled the hallway, turning on its single wheel so quickly it frightened the staring, panting monster into motion again, nearly falling in his further attempts to flee.

The robot followed without hesitation, the details of its news report cracking and whining like a radio being tuned to a dead station; fell whispers murmured unknown secrets beneath the static, hideous laughter echoing off the damaged walls, before it seemed to find a new channel to focus on, the bombastic, bright tone of the announcer returning as seamlessly as though it had never stopped speaking.

“-r our next segment, we’re bringing on a monster with a delightful little invention; a portable blender! You may ask why it needed to be invented. You may ask what you would even need it for. We’ve got the answers, folks! Stay tuned!” the robot crowed, steadily keeping pace with the panicked monster it pursued, never once wavering in it’s quest.

Its announcements and dialogue certainly made no sense, and seemed to have no context. Had it been a wall speaker in another life?

The monster had no such queries, irises dilated with fear and maw wide as he gasped for air in the close, poisoned halls, and hurriedly strained to shove what looked like an ancient wooden barricade, made of fiberboard and an old display board (the board bore a tattered poster, once brightly colored and resplendent, announcing the robot behind him to be Mettaton and that he would be starring in his own movie in seven different roles) into the robot’s path, blocking off almost all of the hallway in the process.

The monster slumped against the wall he stood beside in utter relief, finally, finally hearing the damned wheel squeal to a stop just out of sight. Mettaton didn’t seem sure of what to do, in the face of the sudden blockade, and sat motionless in the darkness, a slow, steady display of dots making their way across his cracked display and his news report continuing almost unimpeded.

“Weather in New Home is gonna be great today darlings! Same as ever, since nothing really changes! But if that’s not your style, and you’re feeling adventurous, head on out to Waterfall, catch some waves and take a dip in their exotic waters, or even take the lift up to the Arboretum! There’s always fun to be had out in the snowfields! Back to you, Frank!”

The monster, with a twisted grin on his panting mouth, raised a shaking fist into the air, victory and nerves and bloodloss and quickly petering energy leaving him in a state of near shock. He’d escaped. He’d escaped? That was supposed to be impossible, no one got around Mettaton anymore…

“Can’t get me now, can you, you crazy asshole?! Ha! I beat you!” the monster scorned, slipping on a slight lisp in his speech as he pushed away from the wall and, in an afterthought, spat at the back of the barricade, but his mocking smile slipped from his face when a sound, an impossible sound, tore the air apart with a shriek and the rumbling, roaring sound of tearing metal.

The barricade shook in place, shuddering on its supports, and from it’s middle chewed a set of razor sharp, rotating teeth, stained red with old blood and the murderous glow of the shattered screen behind the splintering wood. Raucous laughter, insane and disjointed, rang out over the tearing of wood and the rumble of machinery, and through the hole the chainsaw was quickly making, the crimson light of Mettaton’s screen peered, every single working panel now lit.

“Now, it’s time to play: Flip! That! Switch! You’ve got 90 seconds to flip as many switches as you can! What do they do? That’s for me to know and for you to find out, beautiful!” the robotic fiend cried, his single arm cleaving at the barricade with practiced, unceasing ease, and the monster, trembling and weeping jet black tears, scrambled backwards, away from his only defense.

Why hadn’t he kept running? Why had he just stood there?!

“STAY AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY, LEAVE ME ALONE!” he screamed hysterically, stumbling into walls and fallen weapons, through the dust of monsters long fallen and the remains of a war that had been lost ages ago (a barbed, cruel iron hook sank into his heel, carving into his flesh with determined hatred, but he couldn’t stop to yank it free, if he stopped it would be over, he’d be through-) and not far enough behind, he heard the barricade fall, and the turning of that hellish wheel, faster and faster and faster.

The tone of Mettaton’s broadcast seemed to have changed, though, along with his demeanor, far more solemn and grave.

“Monsters of the Underground, I urge you to remain calm. Stay indoors when you can, remember the strength of your souls, and report any sightings of the creature to your Royal Guardsmen. Together, we will make it through these trying times,” he uttered encouragingly, even as he raised the still spinning chainsaw in hand as his pursuit sped, gaining ground on the weeping, limping monster.

Everything was red, the walls, the floors, the edges of the monster’s vision; he could barely think straight, could hardly think of anything at all besides the gain of the demonic machine behind him and the hope of his escape dwindling the further he lost himself in the maze that was the CORE.

Why had he come here at all? New Home had been fine, it’d been fucking dandy in comparison to this-

That’s when he spotted it. The spiked cudgel, lodged in a pile of dust in the middle of an intersection of hallways.

If…. if he could get it… if he could surprise the robot and knock him off his guard…

Mettaton clearly didn’t intend to give him much time to decide, rolling closer and closer every passing second, and so the desperate monster made a grab for the cudgel, dragging it’s almost too great weight around the nearest corner and hoisting it onto his scrawny shoulder and lying in wait, hoping against hope that this would be the end of it.

If he could knock the robot off it’s wheel, there’d be no recovery from that. He could at last escape this hellish nightmare of moving rooms and giggling walls and impossible heat and murderous robots.

The chattering was growing closer.

This was it.

“Despite wishes for our longtime friend and ally’s return, no one has heard from or seen the princess since her abrupt departure nearly two weeks ago. We hold onto the hope that she will come back soon, and f-” Mettaton relayed apathetically, speeding around the corner with such speed that the monster nearly missed his chance, but swing he did, all his momentum behind the blow, and with a monumental rattle, a terrific crunch, and a terrible, bloodcurdling screeching, the robot flew across the hallway, rebounded off the far wall, and fell to the ground in a pile, his single arm, only held on by a scrap of silicone and a few wires, departing his body with a sickening snap.

The chainsaw finally quieted, laying beside its master on the floor, and an astounded, nearly complete silence fell, interrupted only by the burble and creak of the CORE itself.

The monster could hardly believe it. He stared at the shuddering, steaming, and smoking scrap heap before him incredulously, beyond himself with surprise and stunned victory, before letting out a loud whoop, releasing the far too heavy weapon, and leaping across the walkway to kick the edge of his fallen enemy, delirious in his success.

“Ha! Got you! Ha ha! I… I-I…” he began to gloat, but stuttered to a stop when something, someone, grasped his injured ankle, looking down, with dawning horror, on the sparking, ephemeral, clawed hand ensnaring him.

It was coming from Mettaton’s fallen form, and was accompanied by something else, something that was slowly unfolding itself from the collapsed robot’s back.

It lacked what could be called a body, composed of seemingly levitating parts of shattered machinery, dismembered and lit with the same maniacal magic that had pulsed from the robot’s screen; the face of its head was frozen in horror, only more terrible when the mouth began to move, defying its own decapitation.

“Rioting continues on the streets of the capital as week seven of the viral outbreak begins and no sign of an end has emerged. The attempted quarantine of infected monsters within New Home failed well into the fifth week, bringing on an upsurge of violence and mistrust between citizens and the Royal Guard, and the rate of infection among common monsters has since skyrocketed. Despite hostilities, attempts to quell the surge are still underway. If you or your loved ones find themselves suffering any of the symptoms listed on screen, please-” it droned, the static that had before interspersed its silences breaking all throughout its fervent report, and the grasp that the destroyed robot, the horrifying, disjointed creation, had on the monster’s ankle tightened abruptly, snapping his leg at the foot.

His scream of agony did nothing to halt the fiend’s approach, dragging the fallen box that had contained it across the floor towards him; his fall to the ground, unable to bear his weight any longer, only aided Mettaton’s final goal, his unending Hunger, dripping from the air in strings of purplish, tainted acid.

“No, no, please stop! I just wanted to get through, please-”

The monster’s pleas went unheard, and disappeared entirely beneath a horrid, mechanical whirring, an earthly, staticky screech, and a viciously quick gush of verbiage, several reports rolling into one in the cacophony.

“So doctor, what you’re saying is… there iii-i-is no0oooo c-c-cureeeeeeeeeee-”

“The upper sec-sec-sector has fallennnnnnn. The fires arreee spreading smoo00oooke across the lower areas of New Hoooooome and Hotlandddddd-d-d-d. Graphic displays o-o-of violence and cannibalissssssssm have been record-ed-ed-ed on the streeeeeeeets. Viewer dissssssssssssss-”

“Burgerpants, d-d-d-darling… you’ll g-g-geeee33333t yo0000urs-”

The monster, weeping openly and attempting to drag himself away despite the seemingly unbreakable grasp the ghostly being had on him, latched on to the only part of the spew of information he had heard properly, choking on his words and an ugly deluge of black tar that burst from between his lips in his desperation.

“I’m not him! I’m not him, it wasn’t me! Spare me! Mercy!” he begged, kicking at the bulk of twisted metal and dangling, dead wires slowly descending on him, but the robot, or whatever it was that lived inside it, seemed uncaring and, indeed, only perked up further, the pantomime of a face the being bore spreading into an uncanny, sinister smile.

“Beauties and gentlebeauties! On this week’s cooking hour, we’ll be ffeeee3333eding that HuuuUUUngEr and learning the proper way to strip flesh from a living monster! Please welcome our special guest, Mister Whimsalot! He’ll be our main course,” he declared proudly as, with a single, final screech of metal against metal, the beast within dragged itself close enough to overwhelm the monster entirely, snatching at his arms and legs and face with more hands than the remains of the robot possessed, more of the same clawed, nearly invisible fingers scratching and tearing at his furred flesh.

The monster struggled mightily, even as he felt his arm separate from his torso, the same arm that the robot had lost in his fall… even as his eyes ruptured and bled down his face in a gush of gore and corrupted magic…

Even as he felt his belly open and spill, steaming and raw, across the laticed floor.

Above it all, the screech of the machine ruled, the regurgitation of the robot’s news show never ceasing.

“Thank you for tuning in, and remember, my lovelies! It’s what’s inside that really counts! And by that, I mean the meat that you’re made of,” he declared, at the same moment as he tore the other arm from his prey’s body, and the absolute terror, the pain and horror of his fate, spilt at last from the monster’s blood and bile and corruption soaked lips.

“DON’T EAT ME!!!” he screamed brokenly, sobbing and lost to despair and agony, but what remained of Mettaton tore his jaw from his face entirely the very next second, silencing him at long last and sentencing him to the long, torturous process of consumption that would soon follow. The monster’s facile tongue lolled down the length of his throat, wagging helplessly on the gurgling breath of what could have been either a moan or a scream, and Mettaton, for the first time seeming aware of what was before him, let out a staticky, almost amused laugh.

“Goo00000dni1111ght, daaa4rlinnng,” he crooned, yawning, double jawed mouth stretching into a hideous smile, and buried his shattered face in his meal’s gaping stomach.

2020-05-31 8:12:17 ¶ ●

## Day 14: Overgrown by Mercy-Monster on DeviantArt

Always watching

2020-05-31 18:25:53 ¶ ●

##

Hey Sans has a monster ever pleaded with you not to kill it?

“pretty much every time. no one down here that’s lived this long is ready to die, not after everything we’ve gone through.”

He shrugged one shoulder.

“it’s between me and them, though, kid. they’d have no mercy for me. thankfully… it stopped bothering me a long time ago. lv and all, you know? killing doesn’t hurt when you can’t feel anything at all.”

2020-05-31 18:45:30 ¶ ●

##

What if there never was a ceremony? What if Toriel wasn’t in the mood for tea? What if Papyrus was allowed to run across the underground, telling everyone he was gonna be an Uncle, or if Flowey never allowed the hunger to get into this timeline? What even...*sobs*

What if, what if, what if. That’s what makes the difference in every universe, what creates every divergent timeline. What if Sans was willing to kill for more power? What if there had been a terrible accident in the lab and Gaster and Sans were fused? What if everything was backwards, or the monsters crueler, or they lived in space? That’s what makes it so fun~ what if.

So grieve for what could have been, and hope for a better future… or create your own. The universe is vast, both infinite and fathomless. Reach into yourself and find that better world.

This is what came of our ‘what if’. There are far more, and many that have yet to be considered.

2020-05-31 18:55:42 ¶ ●

##

Hey sans do you ever visit grilbyz and Aliza have you seen/explored grilbyz?

Sans shrugged one shoulder morosely, picking at his claws.

“nah. got cleaned out of anything valuable ages ago. and besides… he’s not there anymore. nothing worth going to see.”

Aliza nodded though, a bright smile on her face.

“Yeah, I go there a lot, when I’m exploring the town! The bar is really neat, and the back room is cozy and warm. I found a bunch of crayons in there, and I like to color on the wallpaper, sometimes.”

Sans’ brow raised, surprise and the beginning of a smile blooming across his face.

“i didn’t know that. can i see?”

Aliza looked reluctant, rubbing at her shoulder and looking to the toes of her shoes, a shy blush on her cheeks.

“U-uh… they’re not good…” she protested, but Sans wouldn’t hear it, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and cajoling her with a tiny shake and a kiss to the top of her head.

“bet they’re great. show me?”

“O-okay…”

2020-05-31 19:06:04 ¶ ●

##

I know this is danger for me but ima just Act-hug

*miss*

Sans watches your hug fly by aimlessly, letting out a cool chuckle.

“you’ve never used the battle screen before, have you kid. you gotta be more specific than that.”