Challenge #01885-E061: Motivation

in fiction •  last year 

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Undyne tried to get Sans to spar with her. -- TheDragonsFlame

Sans slept like the dead. If you'd pardon the pun, because he was in fact a living skeleton. Only one thing could wake him up and that was the smell of ketchup on a warm hotdog. He leaned towards it, only to have it lift away. By the time he was sitting up, his eyes were open and he could see Undyne with one of the best hot dogs in the world, tantalisingly out of his reach.

"I heard the human say you were one of the toughest fights they'd ever experienced," she said. "Though I can't imagine that weakling ever fighting anyone."

Unfortunately, Sans could. This was a human who had started without mercy and gone through two more iterations where they fixed everything. He remembered that fight. And he remembered the apology in the human's lidded eyes. They were sorry enough about what they did to reset, and let the underground live. And reset again to make sure they were all freed. "Yeah, sometimes that kid has a weird imagination," said Sans. "You know I don't fight."

"You could if you knew what was at stake," cooed Undyne.

"Not very partial to steaks," mumbled Sans.

"This," said Undyne, ignoring him, "is a gourmet hotdog sausage, sheltered in a brioche-style hotdog bun, lovingly wrapped in the best of condiments that humanity has to offer. Artisinal ketchup, whole seed mustard, and a special chilli salsa with finely-aged grated cheese."

Sans whimpered a little. Okay. There were some things to tempt him.

"And if you don't fight me... I'm going to lick it."

"You wouldn't dare," challenged Sans.

Undyne opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and slowly brought the gourmet hotdog ever closer to her mouth. "Aaaaaaahhhhh...?"

Megalovania started playing...

It was later. Pain had happened. A lot of it had happened to Undyne, but she was happy about that. Sans was happy about the fact that he had won the best hotdog in the world, and was currently savouring bites of it in-between micro-naps.

Papyrus found them like that, Undyne patching up her own wounds and Sans enjoying some quality Human Food. "Honestly, Undyne," said Papyrus. "Are you picking up bad habits from my lazy brother?"

"Your bro has some hidden depths," said Undyne. "Stop ragging on him so much."

"He's my brother, I'm allowed to rag on him as much as I like. Especially when he gets salsa stains on his teeth. That's when the cleaning rag comes in handy! NYEH-HEH-HEH!"

Somewhere in the distance, Frisk giggled at the interplay. Just another lovely day in post-pacifist-run New New Home[1]

[1] King Asgore remains absolute pants when it comes to naming things.

[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / stu99]

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