Prompt: Muffet puts on a circus show with her spiders and asks Frisk to be in the grand finale as a human cannonball. - Barbacar
Requested Headcanons: Muffet is almost never seen without a huge, tremendously fat purple cigar in her mouth, made from spiders and webbing. The smoke from it is purple and smells like a bakery. Frisk often lights it for her with a lighter they keep in their pocket.
Muffet often swallows people whole, intentionally or accidentally. She spits them out eventually, though.
When Muffet's silky black hair isn't tied up in pigtails, it's long enough to reach her waist.
Muffet's title is Princess of the Spiders.
Muffet, Frisk, Mettaton (Mentioned) and Sans (Mentioned) belong to Toby Fox.
The Muffet head canons belong to Barbacar.
A mop of brown hair bounced with each excited step as the human carried some equipment and followed in the trail of a spider coated in a purple dress, complete with a wonderfully tied set of laces at the back of the dress. These laces sewed the back of the dress closed and ended in a small, pretty bow near the top.
Frisk smiled as they gazed at their handiwork, having helped the spider to get properly dressed. Even they had changed into something much more oriental and beautiful for the day.
Today the entire underground would have some entertainment, other than the ghost in a robot suit, Mettaton. Frisk wasn't saying he was bad - she enjoyed hanging out with the celebrity - but some variety now and then helped.
Skipping down the road, the human smiled at each person they passed, full to the brim with excitement. This would be their first, and most likely not the last, time.
A poster blared to the left and the human tilted their head to look at it as they walked past. It advertised their spider circus, complete with a stunt cannon for the finale. Seeing the big, imposing, purple cannon sent a flare of nervousness around Frisk's belly. A white star twinkled at them from the poster, as if to assure them all would be well.
It was to take place in the medium climate zone, Waterfall. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect for a large gathering of bustling monsters and single human alike.
Helpful monsters pitched in the effort to set up the circus, rewarded with a thank you from Muffet, black hair swaying down to her waist and moving with each slight change in her head's position.
When the set up was complete, the show began. Spiders danced, jumped through rings burdened with flames, told jokes and even made a pyramid upon Muffet's head without being accidentally eaten.
Surprisingly, they were also not burnt by the bulky cigar puffing out the smells of a bakery and enticing nearby stomachs to rumble in blissful memory of the Princess of the Spiders' baking.
But all of the acts passed too soon for the butterflies in Frisk's stomach, fluttering and tickling in a nauseating pattern. They fastened on their helmet and shrugged on a plump lilac jacket, taking deep breaths to try and relax.
"Are you ready, my dear?"
The hiss of their adopted mother asking the simple question only served to make what will happen all the more daunting.
But, Frisk thought with determination, they would do this because Muffet wanted them to.
The stunt cannon seemed to gleam at them, gloating its superior strength and size as the tiny human slowly clambered from one step to the other, hauling themselves into the barrel of the canon.
"And now for the final act!"
Muffet announced, plumes of purple smoke floating around her as the spider used a pair of arms to light a match and in turn light the cannon.
Seconds lengthened to hours, seemingly, as the human lay on their belly waiting to be shot out and up. The lit fuse disappeared into the cannon before it made a loud pop and Frisk was ejected from the shaft to land...
In front of the cannon.
They looked around, seeing the crowd laugh - in a good way -, hold a hand to their souls in relief that it was a practical joke and some even smiled at Muffet for not shooting the fragile child from an actual stunt cannon.
Later on, Frisk found out that they had meant to fly and that Sans had messed with the cannon and made it his own practical joke out of a circus.