Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/6108646.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      F/F, F/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Undertale_(Video_Game)
  Relationship:
      Sans_(Undertale)_&_Original_Character(s), Alphys_&_Undyne
  Character:
      Sans_(Undertale), Jerry_(Undertale), Papyrus_(Undertale), Toriel_
      (Undertale), Asgore_Dreemurr, Flowey_(Undertale), Frisk_(Undertale),
      Original_Characters, Alphys_(Undertale), Undyne_(Undertale), Nice_Cream
      Vendor_(Undertale), Bratty_(Undertale), Catty_(Undertale)
  Additional Tags:
      Sci-Fi, refrences, MAGIC-wiggles_fingers-, slow_progression, time/
      dimensional_travel, Anti-Gangs, Skeleton_Sex_MUCH_later., Dark, Darker
      then_Dark, Angst, Fluff, Suspense, gore?, Minor_deaths?, Fantasy,
      Romance, Eventual_Smut, Fiction
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-02-26 Updated: 2017-12-30 Chapters: 15/? Words: 120417
****** Too Much - Or Never Enough ? ******
by Bloodpix
Summary
     Rea (OC Read in 2nd Person ) is a mage sent to travel the void by the
     mages council, in charge of sealing and defeating anything that
     escapes.
     Stumbling onto a new universe, the Ebott barrier is closed and she
     confronts Asgore docilely about the monsters coexisting with the
     humans.
     Choosing a side, she is accompanied by a very untrusting group or
     monsters and a child whos magical abilities could throw her world
     into a mess of dangers and risks.
Notes
     This is a weird and random spin story. One I imagined instantly and
     just typed out, because im getting mental block for my other : Bloody
     Lily, Blue Flames.
     If this gets a positive feedback and curiosity, I will make chapters
     every now and then, even possibly more often then BL,BF because with
     this one there are less rules and more free form.
***** Time to Explore *****
This job was tedious beyond belief, and equally boorish .
Jumping between multidimensional time-frames to check a bunch of measly and
ancient barrier seals. Cold and physically breathtaking should you linger in
‘the between’ longer then desired.
Roaming dimensions was your job, miserably, for being a direct descendant of
sealers and spells. Your long time ancestral father of another age had passed
down his damned blood throughout the generations, you resulting in the next
‘masterpiece’ as the remainder of the casters court named.
You had to make sure that the barriers in certain locations stayed shut and
sealed. There were multiple locations, but at the center of them lied Mt.
Ebott, the most boring of them all. The seal holding the mountain shut was
greatly honored, but it was rusting and ancient. You were to renew it,
rejuvenate in a sense, as you did with the remaining seals. Never told what
they held, just given the task.
You could refuse, but if you had, you would merely be forced into reproduction
until the next ‘masterpiece’ inherited your ancestors magic. So you complied ,
unwillingly, hoping it would cure the paining boredom known as life.
You checked the barriers, reran strengthening’s into each, went back, that was
it. The world was in complete peace and safety thanks to you.
Woop-de-fucking-doo.
How did this never-ending stream of variable timed dimensions even begin?
Well with the 1,992 yr. old balding buzzard back at THC. The High Court ( god
that’s SOOO LAME. )
You return to the councils court foyer, relocated out of the timely world to
enhance longevity considerably. The oldest member ascertained the safety of so,
using the residue of his magic to pump his sickly heart and soul. He was a war
hero, sealing a monstrous kraken into a hidden sea, using an islands entirety
as the seals host. You’d just returned from resealing that specific island,
ceasing the guttural foaming screams and rustling earth for the unlucky
islanders peace of mind. Besides the seals, you were the keeper of the humans.
Not so much for life as in death. You were pretty much like a grim reaper,
magic bad-ass scythe included. The Reaper was the only other name given other
then ‘masterpiece’.
The elder of the magic court pulled you over to the side at that time ( though
time hardly mattered there), a shrouding gleam snaking through his blind eyes.
Every mage had taken over a distinct marking from their bloodlines ; the elders
more unnerving considering he couldn’t hide his freakish yet enchanting eyes.
As if from an alien, they consisted of no pupil, iris, just entirety of the
surrounding whitened sclera. Within though, was a blackness that transcended
further into an unparalleled darkness, worming about as if it truly existed and
thrived behind the thin cornea. It was unsettling, but he willed it take make a
pupil shape, more cartoonish suddenly as he heaved heavy and raspy breaths.
“My dear……I..I’ve been keeping an eye on…hee-your progression…” he wheezes,
every pause a baited breath, thinking he will drop dead every time. He strongly
takes hold of your shoulder, ignoring his magnificent cane and using you as a
steadier as he walks beside you, yourself slowing pace considerably to the most
respected being here.
“I would imagine so, Baysoph. Your nonexistent eyes are TRULY everywhere.” You
groan, a smile hinting at the edges of your dry mouth, thirsty for something
other then the sea. You immediately feel guilty, the old coot laughs, nearly
doubling over as he clutches his heart. You don’t assist him ; he has too much
pride, and shortly after, he rises responsibly well, replacing his grip onto
your shoulder.
“Cute. Hehehhh” he grumbles, pointing the two fingered hand down a corridor you
weren’t usually allowed to advance down. He was riddled in deep scars, missing
more toes and fingers then limbs, which was good considering the arm he pointed
with was the only limb not constructed by the Forger. The Forger was the mage
equivalent of a blacksmith, constructing tools, weapons, and for the elder,
working mechanicalized limbs and organs. His heart wasn’t even untouched,
covered and mended with long named metals you didn’t care about.
Approaching his wealthy study of endless ‘history’ ( he thought he hid the porn
magazines well enough…) you usher him to his chair, where he reclines with a
grudging sigh, before snapping his fingers. The room dims in an instant, hardly
leaving time to adjust before a star floats inside a sealed capsule. With a nod
of clearance, you approach the star, tiny yet feisty, golden and so…safe.
“What is this, Baysoph?” you groan, not wanting to participate in more crazy
schemes of his. He dabbled in the untouched ; and they were called untouched
for reasons. If it contained that word, he would find it, hold it tightly, and
laugh it in the face, no matter the consequences. One being that kraken.
“It is……a SAVE. I’d….heeeehh… located it outside of…. Mt. Ebott not 3…3 worldly
days ago.” He wheezes out, coughing harshly into his prepped shoulder.
“Okay. What does this have to do with me? And a SAVE? Like a video-game SAVE or
we talking something else?” you question, your more adult teen fighting out.
You never appreciated the snappy teen years, though they showed now, everyone
coming to despise your existence. The Forger, Baysoph and Mirage were all you
had. Mirage was the keeper of dreams, using them to help Zebbulon in creating
new species of creatures that would never witness the true light of day. He was
a mad scientist in a natural fucked up way. Mirage had a soft spot for you
though, often sharing glorious dreams with you to ‘cheer you up’. Never was it
necessary, but it always stuck a smile to your face, young children
imaginations running wild.
One time she’d accidentally left a wet dream instead, to which you both were
utterly embarrassed.
“Like a game?.....heehehhh I suppose……it holds incredible power…” he
annunciates. He gleams at you, the unreal pupil shapes shrinking in surprise.
“Power of time-travel……dimensions beyond MY reach.”
This was enormous, suddenly feeling small compared to the miniscule star.
Baysoph was nuts for his age, but this was new ground. The mages never EVER
fondled time magic. It was bad written all over it ; never would they return to
natural lives. The last incompetent who had supposedly messed with time
repeated the same 5 minutes over and over. Supposedly he would become conscious
of his jumping, though every five minutes, it would in a sense reset. The worst
part was is that he was getting chewed out for even attempting to use said
magic. Eventually after repeating who knows how many times, he shot himself
with his own weapon, fizzling away and the court learning hastily to what
caused such a diabolical end.
His very explorations drove him insane, killing himself. His bloodline ended,
and so did his magic, withering away. If that ever normally happened, they
would immediately extract his magic and seal it away, but his was too unstable
and would merely send the next to meet a similar fate, thus letting it
dissipate into the stagnant air.
Dimensions were whole new things. There had been dimensional magicians before
you, though the ended up lost for decades on end, to come back old and weary,
too much information to recall and detail in the last of their life-span. It
wasn’t as forbidden as messing with time, but you reaped what you sowed if you
messed with multi-plains.
Of course, you had. You could. It wasn’t anything big, but sometimes the
changes in dimensions were too much to handle, immediately retreating back the
THC to be scorned for attempting such ‘ruthless inconsiderate acts of duty
denial’. God was that a familiar mouthful you constantly wished to shove right
back.
“Alrighty. And why pray-tell are you having me look at this? Usually Zebbulon
takes more interest in these then I, you realize?” you scoff, turning to the
old man. His pupils have wriggled away, forming a crescent shape as his sickly
wrinkled grin of madness bursts onto his face.
“I need you….to take this and travel about. The…Heehhh dimensions, dearie.” He
giddily trills. He basically resembled a Tim Burton ancient MadHatter. It
wasn’t something you weren’t used to, but it proved he was simply insane.
It was cool, thinking of how he has just let insanity devour him to the point
of allowing such power into your young and irresponsible grasp. Yet, there is
always a catch.
“So, what do I have to do? You don’t send me on these insane shit missions for
nothing old man.” You scoff, poking and prodding at the thin sheet of glass
containing this supposed ‘unbelievable power’.
“You? You’re…….HAHEeehh-“ he was really choking on a breath there, nearly had
you concerned the old bastard was finally dropping before he even explained
shit. He coughed and swallowed intensely strong alcohol, swishing loudly about
his gummed mouth before swallowing with a heatful satisfaction.
“You’re to go and do…..your job between dimensions……..report back every 100…”
he grumbles giddily, taking another swig.
You nearly grab the frail jar and chuck it at his wrinkled skull. A heated rage
builds over, your stomping as you rush the old man shakes books from the
shelves.
“WHY THE HELL AM I DOING THAT?!? THIS IS BULLSHIT YOU OLD FUCK! ITS BAD ENOUGH
I HAVE TO FUCKING DO THAT HERE, NOW YOU WANT ME TO JUST GO ABOUT BETWEEN
FUCKING DIMENSIONS MESSING AROUND WITH THE TIME-MAGIC AND POSSIBLY SENDING
MYSELF INTO AN ETERNAL HELL?!” you boom, voice carrying out like a gods fury,
echo’s of said rage bouncing between the spiraling shelves as you grasp his
collar, shaking profusely the old bastard.
You hated this job. You hated this life. Now they just found a way to make sure
you kept busy with it. Bastards didn’t want you in the first place, nothing but
seals and jumping. Alls you had left was your fierce stare and soul : although
apparently not as intimidating to the utterly stupid. Your right eye shimmered
a blood red that deepened the black pupil; the opposing as yellow as a wolves,
faint red strung between towards the center, resembling a cart wheel. Whenever
your magic built up enough, apparently the resembling wheel spinned to
accelerate the speed of projectiles and movement. In short, it made you an
assassin; speedy and powerful.
“I will give you the eternal wi-fi headset with the latest mage phone Frost has
made.” He retorts, immediately being dropped back into his cushiony seat.
“Which one is that?”
“heehh……the one where any item can be pulled from the…..internal storage, also
the internet has been tested in ‘the between’….it works. Its also a eternal
battery ; charged by sound waves…”
Fucking shit that’s good shit. Good shit right there.
“Deal.”
“HeeheehEHEHHHEH” the old bastard laughs, breathing heavily as it grows. It
doesn’t matter to you. The wi-fi headset is amazing enough, but having a phone,
which games, music, items, and it charges by talking to it. That’s gods phone
right there.
And thusly, here you are, floating through ‘the between’ jamming out to Passion
of a Manwhore after about 138 dimensions. The last was a pretty fucked up one,
the world hardly needed your assistance. It didn’t exist – the kraken in this
time hadn’t been sealed, it devoured nearly all the land, the water level an
obscene amount. You rode leaned against your scythe, taking in the blue abyss,
checking about for any of the remaining seals. You gave up when the supposed
kraken tried to nip your ass out of the air.
After the first 100 dimensions, returning to the council was as you feared,
troublesome to say the least. Holding onto the star as a phone pendant didn’t
quell their anger. You hadn’t used it, needed to use it, or wanted to use it ;
it roamed with you. Went from the Reaper to the Roamer apparently, dawning a
shabby green hood with cape to conceal your mysterious existence. You were
meant for a single dimension, prolonged existence as you were in others didn’t
mean well for the safety of the enduring and hidden court.
As a ‘reward’ for your consistency in roaming ‘the between’ , you were
knowledged with past memories ; anything that helped to reveal what laid behind
the barriers. Only two came into view, the other blood ancestors were never old
enough or were too old at other critical sealings.
One was for the Hana-Shi Tree, appropriately named as the enormous tree buds
resembled flowers, though if consumed, deadly enough to drop an elephant in a
mere minute. Within the roots and support of the tree resided a puffball like
demon known as a Kipfrit. It was incredulously adorable in appearance, but that
was its disguise. Similar to a succubis, it ate off of living energy, sucking
the life from anything, growing in power the more it consumed. Knowing what
laid beyond the seal, and feeling the power of the growing creature is enough
to reconsider how strong to approach the deadly tree.
Another memory thrills you to no extent. It is a war. A valiant and never-
ending war seemingly. Everything is frail, the memory sketchy. Your ancestor
faced an enormous creature, the pounding rain beating against his ears as your
own. The creature before his was fluffy white, drenched in the rain and blood
of its foes, wielding a spear of enamoring proportions. What Forger would kill
to even see this spear. The creature resembled Beast from the Beauty and the
Beast mixed with a goat, but a fucking menacing raging gigantic goat. He beared
a crown in his gold hair ( mane? You cant tell due to the fur and blood
)between his daunting horns that easily could pierce your face whole. He
maneuvered well for his giant stature, and your ancestor stared deep into his
eyes, imprinting his gaze on his foe likely. It seemed his neutral color was a
hazelnut brown, though as a full-throttle fight progressed, they blinked
multiple more colors, your ancestor learning quickly as he evades and freezes
against the also changing spear.
A man completely engulfed in fire ran about, shielding with strong flames as an
umbrella to the downpour, covering the field with a skin-melting inferno. The
heat stung your eyes, but you continued to witness the equal struggle.
“ KING ASGORE DREEMURR, I BEG OF YOU, LEAVE THIS FIELD WITH YOUR PEOPLE BEFORE
MORE DUST AND BLOOD IS SHED!!” the old you shouts, to no avail, the king
grunting and crying forth as he ranges his spear well. Atleast now you knew
this incredible creatures name.
A glorious fight, but one that seemed unnecessary. Why was this happening?
These creatures were more or less fighting for their lives, but never killing
their foes. The mages of old……they didn’t hesitate, only yours and Mirages. Her
great ancestors mark of free-flowing hair, defying gravity as it flowed upwards
like a blue waterfall drenched in blood and……ash? Dust? Thin gray particles
rippled within, and you noticed whenever a creature was slain, they turned into
nothing but a pool of dust.
It turned painful to watch. Your ancestor inquired nobody was to interfere with
his fight, the goat king trying to push back and retreat all the same to his
people who hardly resembled him. Goat royalty? Finally, the mages pushed the
creatures into Mt. Ebott, sealing it shut forever with an intense ritual. Your
ancestor took no part, but took pity. The mages were banishing these creatures
who couldn’t even fight back properly down into this dark abyss, never to see
the light of day. You couldn’t understand. You only stood beside your blood
brother, watching in horror as the terrified and frustrated faces disappeared
behind the now rusty barricade.
Returning back to reality, you wanted to know. The questions prodded in your
mind made the music distasteful, opting for the chilling silence of ‘the
between’. It may as well be known as your lair for how well you can manipulate
and navigate through it. Its nothing but pure white, a matrix of sorts, but
nothing but you within.
Breathing becomes more strained the longer you roam the lair, choosing wisely
of your next location, opting out of a watery grave resembling the last. A
color, a blue string catches your gaze, hurrying your pace as you approach.
Reaching for the string, it fizzles away and out of existence supposedly, a
flickering image beside you. A dimension. You gaze about, not expecting to see
anything, which confirms back as nothing lies about. The air grows thin, and
with the blue sign leading you, you enter into the new world.
You start off on a slippery slope known as Mt. Ebott. At the top. Sliding down
would be considered fun if the two or three rocks pecking into your spine as
you tumble down painfully were something the kids found fun in the human times.
You land face first in a bed of familiar yellow buttercups, the sun past rising
before you, settling higher in the sky, but not to the noon point. Besides the
upper winds of the mountain, you recognize the ledge you tumble before,
silenced thoughts hitting you along with your scythe that had caught up to
speed.
Holding off on your magic is the best way to conceal yourself, only using it in
emergencies or sealings, or if INCREDIBLY bored and tired and using your weapon
to float about. That was it. Totally casual girl with bizarre eyes. Totally
casual day. You retrieve your tool, quickly warping it into the phone storage
as you stand and crack at the back aches, marveling at the sun unusually long.
You turn to approach the barrier, popping noises coming from your neck as you
adjust to ‘work your magic’.
“Round 139 comme-“ you freeze.
The barrier.
….
……..
…its gone.
“We-he-he-HELL SHIT.” You groan, rubbing down your face. In this reality, the
barrier ceased. For how long? Was it sealed to begin with? Nearly every other
dimension had the same sealings, the Kraken was new entirely! But this?!
You groan and smack gently at your face, ceasing your panic. This can be okay.
This could be okay. There was a village beyond the trees, no smoke from fire-
man wrecking any joints……is he even still alive? Fuck how long was that fight
?!
KRUNCH-CH-CH-CH-
An obsessing crunching starts beside you, throwing you from the base of where
the barrier stood to the wall, facing the loud foe.
“Who the fuck are you?” it asks, voice grunting and unpleasant.
Before you stands an odd creature, a few feet high, a large hump where its face
would lie, but its eyes lay on the horizontal sides of its…face? Two nasals
puff out roughly, the rock like bumps atop the lumps jittering like disgusting
pimples that grew too much. Its eyes are void of any emotion, though its mouth
is greedily stuffing Doritos in to packed cheeks, chewing wildly open-mouthed.
Its utterly disgusting and disgraceful and how dare he not SHARE those Doritos.
You approach the being calmly, asking the normal questions.
“Who are you?” you ground yourself, sounding menacing, but it has no effect as 
it merely replies with a grunt and scoff.
“I asked you first. Everyone who is anyone knows me, Jerry the Super Cool and
Awesome, dude!” he flexes noodle arms, spilling a few Doritos into the dirt.
The very thought of tasty chips being smothered to the dirt nearly ends him up
dead. He yanks a phone from behind him, tapping with cheese covered fingers and
groaning “The wifi up here sucks…”.
This creature came off clearly as a condescending piece of shit that no one
liked. He kept hitting the vibrate button to make it appear he was receiving
constant texts from his amassing friends and fans.
You don’t know whether to kill him or pity him. Mostly kill, minor the pity.
“How long has this barrier been open?” you ask, pinching the nerves at the
bridge of your nose as he pulls another bag of chips from behind. You swear you
hear Velcro ripping.
“Huuhhh don’t you know anything, twerp?” he grunts, shoving more chips in his
mouth. “ Fwine I’ll teaCH (the CH pelts you with bits of chips ) wour sad assh
sunce woo –gulp- if you can ask nicely.”
Fuck this.
You appear before the creature, grabbing the disgusting lump and shoving it
against the rocky mountain, him instantly quivering under you, legs dangling as
his noodle arms frantically reach to pry free. Its hardly even considered a
struggle, his whimpers grow into chokes. You remove the camouflaging goggles
that brace the wind, revealing your unamused eyes, and he struggles more then
before, grunting and cussing silently.
Using your free hand, you fish out your phone, rummaging through the storage
until coming upon a glorious can of cheddar Pringles. You happily open the can,
the succulent cheddar wafting into your nose as you shove threw into your
mouth. Jerrys struggles cease at last, and kindly swallowing you grip harder
and face the crude creature.
“Im going to ask you questions. Im only going to ask them once. For every
answer, I will consider to spare you. For every denial of an answer, I will
squeeze harder til I dust you and throw it into the wind. Are we understood?”
you growl, Jerry quickly nodding his body as you take another pleasant minute
to enjoy a few Pringles.
“How long has the barrier to Mt. Ebott been down?” you ask, containing your
growl.
“I-It went down bout a year ago!”
“How, Jerry?” you nudge your thumb to squeeze ever so slightly, and the
creature pales.
“T-There was a human! A kid! F-Frisk, my bud!-“
Hard to believe that you scoff, letting the terrified being continue.
“We-We had human souls in storage t-to break the b-barrier but, little dude
made it t-to Asgore and he f-freed us all!”
You flinch back, nearly dropping him free before slamming him against the rock.
“Asgore? Asgore Dreemurr?!” you yell unintentionally. If he supposedly could
pee, his expression read it. He nodded, holding in tears.
“How fucking old can they get?” you grumble, shoving a Pringle who doesn’t
deserve the angry chewing it receives. Sorry Pringle, your delicious life was
lived well.
“Y-Your one of t-t-those e-evil humans, aren’t ya?!” he yells, mustering the
little courage he has as he swats the disarm you from your Pringles.
“Hey hey HEY.” You slam him again, a tiny whine for forgiveness emanating from
him “I ask questions, you provide answers.” You smugly say, putting on the
goggles to conceal your eyes.
“Last question buddy, then I will let you play with your wifi or whatever.”
He nods, begging eyes for freedom.
“Where. Is. Asgore.” You grit your teeth. He was the only one apparently still
alive and having answers about what happened, course it would likely be from
his point of view. You needed to contact THC immediately, inform them of the
issues.
The squirming lump known as Jerry hesitates, not wishing to give away such
information to such a murderous stare. Eventually he gives in.
“At the side park, picnicking. With monsters. I-Including the R-Royal Guards C-
Captain, The Royal S-Scientist, Ambassador, Judge, Ex-Queen, and the Queens G-
Guard! S-So you don’t stand a fucking chance, you jerk! You’re gonna get your
ASS beat, hahahaha!” he laughs, unknowingly ratting to just how many monsters
would be there, and their names read enough. If Asgore couldn’t beat your old
blood, then it was unlikely his underlings could follow suit ; but that was 3
vs 1 just going off titles, depending on how ruthless the others were and if
there were more unspecified monsters laying in wait.
You throw the creature back behind where the barrier laid, chanting the sealing
ritual. A much thinner barrier springs to life, not fueled by the full council
and you weren’t perfect under complete aggravation. However, the little
creature is pale and speechless as he watches your eye spin with colors.
“Now Jerry. This is temporary. If you were lying about their location well…..it
wont be so temporary then, now will it?” you growl, the little monster
instantly peeing.
So it does pee. Gross. That could have been all over your nice combat boots.
“If you weren’t, be back for ya in an hour or so! Bye bye!” you yell, running
off the ledge, summoning the scythe openly and flying off. Forge allowed magic
fueled thrusts into two of the ends, making you appear like a witch. It felt
amazing, but it was not very secretive at all. The wind and sun on your face
felt good, as you fly in the clouds, glaring down on the world with your eyes.
Taking this opportunity, you rang up Baysoph.
Ring…..Ring……R- “Heehh yyesss?” he rasps. He must have been sleeping, he is
slurring too. You feel nothing. Theres another thing that makes him slur, and
he doesn’t hide it well, huffing heated and rough. You sigh, instantly feeling
sicker just listening to the phone.
“Baysoph, I found another world. This time the barrier at Ebott was gone,
monsters have been living amongst the human for around a year. I am locating
the king for interrogation.”
He stops huffing and gasps, before cackling wildly, coughing intervals
intruding his maniac giggles.
“They ESCAPED?! That’s RICH!” a familiar star-like voice chimes in, coughing
protruding through the background. Zebbulon. Arrogant prima-donna held the
phone, fwooshing his black and yellow locks about as if he were a star.
“Shut the shit up Zebb and give Baysoph back the phone.” You groan, continuing
the search instead of listening to his dribble.
“You convenient little WORM, if Baysoph wasn’t in charge of your little
EXPEDITION, I would EXECUTE you myself. Your job is simple, KILL THE FUC-“ he
yells, but is cut off as the line is cut.
Scouring overhead, you check nearly every park, and finally you see one that is
practically void of all human life, a crowd surrounding the buildings as they
stare on.
Probably that park. You halt above, redialing.
Rin- Instantaneous.
“Whats the…….. condition of that world?” replies Baysoph, no background noise
of Zebbulon being a prick, thankfully. He must have evicted him from the
library.
“I haven’t much information yet sir, I only just arrived. From what I viewed
and heard, the creatures of Ebott emerged roughly a year ago, entering the
human cities. I encountered one who claimed me evil ; I have temporarily sealed
him away until you give any other deciding command. He led me to the location
of Asgore Dreemurr, and I think I have located them ; the humans are avoiding
this park. I don’t think humans took well to it sir.” You finish waiting as the
contemplating hum rings through.
“Well……say hello…..tell him…heehhhheheh tell him……that “Syurin sends regards.”
and……make sure to flash him……a pretty face............after that, judge for
yourself…….now excuse me, its lunch.” He finishes, hanging up rudely before you
can say another word. You groan and find a relatively tall building near the
park before being stupid.
You deny magic to the thrusters, leaving you to quickly plummet towards the
city cement and building brick. 10 feet from impact, you floor it, coming 2
feet from impact as the blade of the scythe pierces into the building like
butter. You dig it free from the buildings grasp, trotting over to the edge and
adjusting the goggles to increase a zoom.
A smoke from a barbecue covers the better portion of the field, but large
figures roam everywhere. A woman in a purple robe of sorts is hugging a child
close, their brown fuzzy hair covering their face and the woman holding them.
There are two tall red trails running rampantly at increasing paces in a race
around a small circle, the child freeing from the womans hands to even attempt
joining. The womans face hides behind smoke, alongside two figure who appear
much smaller in comparison, as she sits at a table not visible from your
vantage point. Following the smoke, you find your man.
Tall and broad, relinquishing his cape and crown for a tight teal flannel
shirt, giant blue jeans hemmed at the bottom. Yellow beard and hair breezed
gently in the wind.
Asgore.
Time to go pay your regards.
***** Time for Jerry? *****
Chapter Summary
     Jerry. Fuck Jerry.
Chapter Notes
     Attention. I will be writing this when I get more mental blocks on my
     other story. In short, in between chapters I suppose while I think up
     the rest.
     I dont mean to treat this story as second best, but its probably not
     for everyone.
     Alot of it is fictional
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Casually sliding down the side of the building, using window ledges as foot
holds, you reach the bottom, obvious freaked stares protruding from every
direction. Your actions spoke as equally as your clothes : a ragged green hood
and cape, a black armor guard that exposed more skin than necessary, but the
cape covered it well. Your skirt went high towards your stomach, covering what
more flesh would be revealed and instead allowing long legs to adorn stripped
ripped stockings.
You think it’s the stockings, but opt to completely change. Running into a
nearby bathroom, you log your phone, hunting through the never-ending dresser
for suitable clothing. Finding an adorable shoulder dipping mid-sleeve as red
as your eye, brown booty shorts, and a less ripped set of stockings, stripes
and all. Refitting into the temporarily removed combat boots, you even apply a
old leather newsboy cap with a broken heart pin stabbed into it. The last
effect is changing your hair to a more human brunette, magic coursing through
it had changed it over the years. Ready to strut the day away and possibly
imprison monsters in a guttural damp cave again! Woop!
Coming to the side-walk, you figure you have no clue how to approach him.
Well shit.
You decide to meander over to an outdoors barista shop, hiding incase of spies.
Peeking inside, there are monsters working the front—line. A cat and crocodile
with teen fashion hair and lipstick. Every time the door jingles open, they
speak in near perfect unison, but always with a one second lag from one or the
other. So, monsters had melded in with society, but some of society wasn’t okay
with it. These were mental and physical notes to be taken, considering this
could eventually happen to your own realm, thusly you needed to understand what
could occur.
Turning away from the distraction, you’d never removed the cape and goggles ;
too treasured to care about the stares, and you needed to hide your identity as
best as possible. That’s why they were given, and no body would know of your
true existence with the goggles on.
No humans proceeded into the park. Some didn’t mind, hanging more towards the
outskirts to give the riley group their space, while others nearby to you
cursed their very existence. Approaching in hostility could provoke other
humans to rebel against the so far ‘gentle giant’, and his company wouldn’t be
none too pleased likely. However, approaching peacefully could rake you into a
mess ; there was a form of terrorism for nearly anything, and no doubt were
there likely groups willing to kill to rid the world of these monsters.
You choose to rather take your chances with a peaceful approach, slowly
standing and walking across the street. Once reaching the other side, a group
of men are huddled together, all nearly in black, whispering as if you cant
hear them.
“When can we just hit’im?”
“Wait you idiot!”
“This aint the time for mistakes…”
“Look, he is alone, lets just END it!” one growls, shaking profusely.
You look to the parks hill, the proud large monster gracefully is cooking
burgers on a barbecue besides a tree, a hint of the table visible past the
trunk. He is alone, vulnerable if they rush him quick enough.
The one boy cant seem to contain the ferocity, he barrels forward, pistol at
the ready, the other two shouting curses and attempting to reach the quick boy.
The gun has a silencer on it, completely planned for this occasion that would
be the fall of the king.
Had you not shown up.
You grace a leg beneath him instantly, tripping him and his itchy trigger
finger, the bullet ricocheting the tree into the soil. Asgore straightens
immediately and turns to the dangers direction. You pin the boy to the ground,
ceasing his arm movement and grabbing the gun. You fire the remaining rounds
into the soil near the boys head, and he frantically starts muttering
apologies. You glance up to analyze the damage to witness the king bounding
down the hill, utter shock placid on his face. You throw your free hand up.
“Stop right there furball!” you yell, and he follows as instructed. Clenching
the boys fists you lean close to his ear.
“Should you ever try shit like that again, little man……I will cease your
existence.” You threaten, voice reaching a tone not meant for human kind as he
cries into the soil. You retrieve the gun, shoving it into the minor pockets of
your shorts, before grabbing the boy and thrusting his limp wobbly body back to
his cohorts.
“Get outta here. Now.” You glare, and they hardly hesitate, rushing down the
street nearly ramming into oncoming traffic. Luckily, due to the silencer, the
commotion didn’t cause more then a little questioning, merely a small girl
beating a thug as he approached an intimidating monster who still loomed
halfway down the hill.
Finally redirecting your attention, you meet the hazel gaze you feel pained to
rewitness. You had to watch this man get shut away for 2,000+ years ( deductive
skills = Baysoph wasn’t there for it ). You begin the unlucky trudge to the
monster, giving a worried smile.
“A-Are you alright human?” he asks, deep so baritone and afraid, but caressing
a kindness along it. You throw a grand smile back at him, nearing to 5 feet as
you stop.
“Ya. Ya im good. You better keep an eye out there, furball; he meant to shoot
you, not the tree.”
He stares at you with sorrow, not fear.
“I wish I had known. If that had hit any of my friends or family….I..” he
grumbles, clenching fists tightly. Stick a spear in that fist and you got a
menacing looking fucker right there.
“Hey, hey! You cant know everything! Now then!” you say, clapping your hands
together and taking another hearty step forward. “ You are King Asgore
Dreemurr, yes ?” you ask, the man growing a tense but sweet smile, eyes
relaxing slightly.
“Yes human. I truly owe you my life I suppose. Would you like to eat lunch with
us?” he gestures, pointing back to the barbecue puffing delicious smoke. You
were the judge; how you reacted would change the outcome of things, and
approaching this as a pacifist was your best bet, but to avoid the entirety of
his crew would be for the best.
“Sure, but uh, I need to talk to you : alone if that’s good. I mean we don’t
have to leave, but uh, I need to speak to you in more privacy then you have
with them.” You utter, trying to get your point across. He looks at, you
baffled.
“Have we met before?..” he questions slowly striding back to the picnic tables-
“You seem…so familiar, yet I cant recall your name or face.”
“Yes. In technicality, we have met. But again, that’s more of a private
matter.” You reassure, having to speed up to keep his slow but wide steps equal
to the progress of your own. Reaching the top of the hill, you get a gander at
the rest of the group, and fuck the gods if it isn’t an unusual one.
Theres. Fucking. Skeletons.
Never are you imprisoning these guys again without direct orders, in which your
asking to KEEP the skeletons. A short one wears a blue hoodie, a fluff
surrounding the edges of the hood, but the lower half of him consists of black
gym shorts and fluffy night slippers. He also has a reverse Baysoph eye thing
going ; sockets being black, pupils (?) being white flecks of light that seem
to freely dart about, and a grin stuck to his face, not explaining the general
appearance and function of a true skulll. The worst part is you can tell even
from his sitting, that he is taller then the incredibly fun-sized you. Another
easily stands a foot taller, if not a foot and a half from your height ; a red
scarf as long as your hooded-cape. His skull is more like a normal skull,
though he doesn’t have light specks in his eyes. He wears a t-shirt with a
racecar on it, and a pair of cargo pants with proper running sneakers. He is
incredibly loud, drowning out all other voices, besides one.
Beside him, yelling on an equal plane is a fish woman? She isn’t a mermaid, but
a woman with fish skin, fins for ears, and she is missing a eye. Royal Guard
Captain. Calling it. CALLING IT. Her long red ponytail flowing besides the
taller skeletons scarf explains the red blips you couldn’t make out before. Her
teeth as sharp as a sharks, her black tank top reveals muscles and her tight
yoga pants have splits at the knees as she enthusiastically does squats to the
apparent joy of the taller skeleton. To anothers joy, a yellow dinosaur like
lizard, the same height as you likely, watches with a loving expression. She
bears a set of nerdy glasses, a sweet summer dress adorned with polka dots, and
a white jacket incase of the non-existent cold.
Approaching the table is what must be the ex-queen, seeing as she is too a
towering goat monster, her purple robe bearing an insignia you’d seen in a book
in Baysophs library. Her horns and size didn’t compare to Asgores, and her
amethyst eyes shone brightly gleaming against the sun. In her hands was a human
child, brown hair frizzing as she tries to calm its tenacity. The child wears a
striped t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts, a band-aid upon their knee likely
from a childish scratch.
Asgore rumbles with laughter and a sigh, looking over the group with a fond
gaze. Its so pleased and at peace with the world, you hate to have to crush it
possibly.
“I must say, I haven’t seen a human wear a caped hood like yours in……so long…”
he sighs, obviously recalling the tragic past your ancestors had brought forth.
In his hands is plate with prepared burgers for the both of you, but you tug
gently at his shirt, careful to not grab furs, and point to a further off table
: one where you can still see the group and be enough out of reach to not be
over-heard. “ Ahh yes. Let me inform my wi-…..um…just-ya.” He stutters, handing
you the plates and walking to the crowded and rambunctious table.
Family problems. Who doesn’t have ‘em? You wont pry on unnecessary business.
The goat woman takes notice of you, a strange concern in her eyes as Asgore
returns to your side. A loud yell erupts from the silencing chatter.
“Yo, Asgore, where ya goin’?!” yells the one eyed fish. Asgore turns and smiles
a wave and points to you. She eyes you out ( hahahaha good one. ) and you grow
a smug smile to her concentrating gaze.
“Don’t worry, I will bring him back when im done with our chat fish-cake!” you
laugh, walking down the hill.
“FISH-CAKE?!” she roars, attempting to jump the table entirely to clock you in
the face, but Asgore cuts her off.
“No Undyne! Its fine!” he replies before following you to the separate table.
Everyone watches as you sit yourselves down, enjoying a few bites of the burger
before cutting to the chase.
“Alright, Asgore, I wont beat around the bush with you here. Im not here on
pleasantries. Not from what I know and do.” You grumble setting down the
burger. The king stops the readying bite, placing his down as well.
“Who are you, little one?” He asks, truly questioning.
“Well…” you start, removing your goggles, concealing your eyes from his view as
you finish the sentence. “ Im known as many things. Right now im a messenger
girl. MY message is – “Syurin sends regards.” You perk up, giving him a true
eyeful. He has paled considerably, gasping for air, looking like he is choking
on burger, convulsing with utter fear.  “You recognize my eyes, do you not,
Asgore?” you question, the man still shaking and unsure of the actions he
should take.
“I would stop shaking if you could. Your friends at the top of the hill might
notice and freak.” At your words, he does the exact opposite, falling to his
elbows against the table, weeping softly into them, gritting a towel behind
feral teeth.
“DONT YOU DARE HURT THEM.” He snarls, eyes glaring back wild with rage.
“Hey hey hey buddy, I came in peace! I coulda let that punk shoot you, I coulda
KILLED you myself, but here we are, having a pleasant little chat, RIGHT?!” you
reply trying to hold in your own anger. Of course, threatening the man was
likely getting you nowhere. “ Now listen to me!” you groan, sitting back and
biting into the burger. You glance back to ensure they are all there, but the
goat woman approaches calmly. Her stare is intense, directed at both of you, as
you hide your eyes again.
“Can you please tell your ex-wife to go away? I don’t want to cause trouble
here Asgore, just a little chat.” You whisper, the man seething behind tears as
he looks to the woman with a familiar fear. The same as when he’d first been
trapped behind the barrier. He stands and approaches the woman, shaking and
hugging her tight, to which she hugs him back.
“Asgore, what is the matter? Whats going on?” she almost orders it, her queen-
like status coming in as her voice demands attention and authority from the
gasping tearing giant.
“Tori……please go back and just keep everyone away from this table, do you hear
me?” he whispers, stroking the back of her head lovingly. You watch from the
brim of your hat, sorrow for scaring the poor man who’d gone through enough to
this breaking point.
“Whats happened?! Please tell me Asgore…what has the huma-“ she asks, but
Asgore cuts her off with a smooch to the lips. Its long and sad as he coaxes
his soft furred claws down her startled face. You audibly her to breaking of
the kiss, Asgore reaching to her side lovingly to whisper sweet nothings.
“I love you…I love you beyond reason and life…so please…keep yourself and
everyone else away from this table…please Tori…” he whimpers, carefully pushing
away the one thing that held him together all those years ago, even though
she’d left him.
You knew the tale. You’d read books that supposedly came from a rubble pile in
Ebott, explaining old times of the king and queen. Humans and monsters lived as
one until sealed beneath Ebott. The royal family consisted of a biological and
a non-biological human child. The human fell ill, and when their own child
tried to return them to their initial village, he was killed for supposedly
killing the child. He had hobbled back, with the other child, and died in their
arms. Afterwords, the king in his guilt, rage, and determination, took human
souls to try and break the barrier. The queen, saddened and upset with his
actions, left him, breaking the already broken. It sounded more of a sad
fantasy, but they existed, and here they were. A grown monster weeping softly
as he forces his love to unnecessary safety.
She backs away the whole ways, never taking her eyes off him. She cant even
settle into a seat, just sitting near the group as now all eyes are transfixed
on you. So much for keeping this on the down low. The kind wobbles back into
his seat, collapsing against the table as he holds his head low.
“You are one of the human mages…yes?” he mutters, wiping away thick tears
coating a dew through his facial fur and beard.
“Yes. I am an ancestor of Ovine, the man who you equaled against during the war
before the barrier. I witnessed the memories for myself, I know your fighting
style.” You inform, to which he sighs in defeat.
“That’s it then…isn’t it. You want to seal away my people after having such a
hopeful taste of freedom…humans are…are so cruel. It never changes, truly. I
should NEVER have tried to return, but my people……they missed the sun and I-“
he chokes, sobs coming back. It sends you over.
“Hey hey stop your crying already, I am not evil fork fucks sake!” you slam
against the table, startling and confusing the tear-drained king.
“Look! My job currently is to roam around universes, sealing and enforcing
barriers where need be. I discovered that the monsters here were free, but I
knew from the memories, you weren’t pure evil.” You state, trying to calm down
while you explain. “I don’t think you remember, or you choose to forget, but
Ovine took no part in the sealing of your people! Neither will I if I can try
and help!” you smile, and the monster gaze is empty of emotion; likely run dry
from all the water-works.
“So…why…why are you here? Why did you say that?!” he demands, voice echoing
likely loud enough for the group to hear.
“I said that because it is what I was told to say by my over-watcher. I am not
the only human mage out there, but your lucky you only ended up with me buddy!
The rest aren’t so forgiving.” Your reassurance nearly send him into a
depression, as he darkens to the possible inevitable doom.
“Aahh but but! I haven’t gotten any say as to WHAT to do with you guys yet. It
might not be good, but it seems that the humans are giving you more trouble
then you give them” you state, pulling out the gun and careful to not face it
towards anyone he cares for. “This is a silencer. It muffles the sound that the
gun makes so nobody realizes it goes off. If I hadn’t done anything earlier,
you would have been shot, no one knowing why you were suddenly dust in the
wind.” He shivers, considering his narrow escape from death.
“So, heres my plan til I am given instruction ; ya ready, you’re going to LOVE
it!” you beam, him waiting on drained breath and energy.
“Im going to protect your people from the humans!” you cry out, joy covering
your face. He stares in complete disbelief before bursting out into sincere
laughter that catches the concerned group of friends off-guard.
“This is absurd!” he laughs, still catching his breath. You smile back, leaning
forward.
“Yep. Utterly absurd. Crazy even! But without the crazy individuals, the world
would never change!” you boast, accepting the insanity passed down from
Baysoph. A grave thought waves over you though as the king settles from his
laughing fit.
“However, your majesty, should the mage council decide without a doubt that the
monsters must be sealed back in Ebott, I will assure you this now-“ you
threaten, staring down with bleak eyes “I can tell from just looking at them I
can take them all at once.”
The king shudders, but doesn’t deny the claim.
“Human powers are terrifying at times…” he says, rubbing his neck with worry.
“Im not meaning to threaten you sir. I know kind people who are part of the
mage society, and I know it will take strict convincing to get them against
you, so you have my back, my scythe, and my power!” you get up and kneel to the
king, hood accidentally lobbing over your head, but you need to prove your
loyalty if he is to trust you.
“I am a mage of old, no name, meant to seal and destroy any threats. My powers
are for you to use to aid against any enemies or foes who would cause you harm
or discomfort. If you care to not trust me as you shouldn’t, please lob off my
head and cease my bloodline.” You give in, the man astounded at the strength
and courage to insist that you let your magic line be cut off if he should
choose.
Instead he kneels beside you, a gasp coming from the hill that you don’t look
at as the king lifts your hood and grievingly meets your face.
“Why do you not have a name?” he asks, and you snort to the absurd question.
“I cant leave a trace of my existence, so I go by nicknames : Reaper and Roamer
the favoring.” You alas, the King standing you both up and thinking hard. You
had also heard he was terrible with naming things, so this wouldn’t go well.
You stop his thoughts with an instant reply to your own.
“Rea. Rea Scythe can be my name should you wish.” You suggest, a sudden look of
confusion wandering his face “What?”
“Scythe? Why Scythe?”
“Well Rea came from Reaper and Reaper came from Grim Reaper and the Grim Reaper
is known to carry a scythe, and they gave me a scythe as my weapon and I can
use it to fly as well as kill things.” You ramble quickly before ending with an
innocent smile.
“A-A…A scythe? A-Arent you a little young to be wielding such a…weapon?” he
gestures his hand to how tall you are.
“EXCUSE ME! I am fucking 198 years old! I am just…Fun-sized!” you regesture,
trying to look menacing but apparently it comes off as adorabley upset as he
pats your head.
“So you ARE still a child, but not a normal human child. How can you live for
so long?” he wonders.
“Well sir, the mage HQ, THC, is located in a space that time doesn’t pass much
in. In human time I am 22, but I have lived for 198 years.” You explain, the
king looking worried.
“Space time? Ah like the void? Umm….the ‘in between’?” he asks, surprising you
with his knowledge of that place.
“Its not located their sir, but I call ‘the between’ my lair at this point. I
hang out in there so much. How do you know about it?” you question, hoping for
an answer.
“Ah. Sans is capable of going into the void using rifts, though he calls them
‘shortcuts’ and the further it takes him, the more magic it uses. I didn’t know
humans knew of the science behind it.”
“Ah, which ones Sans?” you ask, up for a transporting competition.
“Ah, the shorter elder skeleton brother he- Ah…they are watching…how long have
they be-“
“The entire time Asgore. The entire time.” you state, the king suddenly looking
pathetic again.
“Understandable. This was quite a run on. Are you sure you will protect us,
even against your own?” he questions, hope filling his eyes. “ I do not wish to
burden you with our problems, but a human mage wont receive penalty for their
magic and is stronger then monsters.”
“They penalize you for using magic? Oh HELL no!” You roll the minor sleeves. “
Point me at em I will choke ‘em in my lair! Muahahaha!” you cackle
villainously, hoping to appease the staring crowd, a kids chuckle faintly
heard. Bingo.
“Then I will allow you in human. I will trust you. But I cannot guarantee that
the others will trust a mage…” he replies, nervous for his friends “ They have
heard stories, and I wont even fully trust you, but I knew that man fighting me
didn’t truly want to fight, and neither will I believe that with you.” He
reassures, a smile spread thin. It wasn’t even the mid afternoon and this man
looked ready for days worth of sleep after the adrenaline and sadness he just
experienced.
“Sir, alls I need is a place to watch over, and I will be there. I can use
magic on my eyes if you want, to make them not as weird looking. Already did
that to change my hair…” On cue, you turn both your eyes the same blood red, to
the dismay of the king.
“Uh-um-ah m-maybe the y-yellow?” he asks kindly, as he deeply stares into the
familiar gaze. You don’t question it, both becoming the embarrassing neon
yellow that soothes the stressed heart of the king. “ T-Thank you hu-….Thank
you, Rea.”
Having a name is weird and embarrassing, but it will grow. The king finally
adjusts himself and readies to face the music of questions. You get beside him,
removing the hooded cape to tie around your waist to resemble a lazy shirt,
freeing your hair from the itching cap and ruffling it about from the intense
sweat that had built up.
“So-“ you whisper as you approach the standing group- “Who can I and cant tell
about the whole mage thing?”
“Um…well we will figure that out later. Just…noone right now, please.” He
finishes, the queen running to him before he makes the table and catching him
in a loving hug. You awe the action, earning a stern gaze from the woman who
begins a rant of rants.
“Who is this human Asgore?! Why were you so…What happened?! Asgore EXPLAIN!”
she yells, fear and anger mixed about her face.
“Uhh…ah well….”Asgore mutters, trying to figure out how to proceed and how to
lie. You do one better.
“Well I came up from behind and saved this fuzzball. Someone tried to
assassinate him.” You clear up, pulling the gun into view and the woman gasping
in sheer horror as Asgore grumbles. More of the group gather closer to
understand.
“See this?” you remove the silencer from the gun, showing it to the woman. “
This is a silencer. It muffles the gunshot noise so its hardly hearable. There
was a group of guys, base of the hill bout 10 minutes back. One guy whipped
this out and aimed at the fuzzball while he was at the barbecue. 1 shot
ricocheted and hit the tree, the mark is still there if you want to verify my
claims.” You point to the tree, the woman shivering as she looks at her
husband.
“Why…How..?” she seems at a loss for words, so you continue with a somewhat
lying spree.
“No need to be alarmed. You are Miss Dreemurr, yes?” you insist, shaking to
shocked womans hand before continuing. “Pleasure to meet you, truly. I am Rea.
Rea Scythe, part of an undercover team to ensure the safety of monsters, but I
don’t work with the police. I have given the furball a offer : I will protect
any monsters whenever they need it, be it escorts or general lookouts, I can do
it!” you enthuse, gripping a fist into the air. She is lost for words.
“S-S-So you’re like a-a s-secret a-a-agent?” comes a frail voice. You follow it
and meet the innocent eyes of the yellow dinosaur from before.
“Yes, in a way I guess. More of a bodyguard.” You reply, giving a joyous smile.
“Well-But-Your just a child.” The woman replies, earning a shocked jaw drop
from you.
“Why does everyone gotta think im a kid? That’s a kid!” You say pointing to the
child that has nudged to the front of the line, excitedly hopping up and down
as they look at you. “What?”
The begin signing frantically. Oh no. ASL. Your only weakness behind baby
animals next to babies/kids. This was an ASL kid though! THE TORTUROUS
HUMANITY!!
As soon as they finish , you blink a few times trying to recall the lessons you
painstakingly avoided.
“Uh…” you mutter, crouching to the kids height,” I only caught ‘cool’ and
‘magic’ ”, you reply, the second thing hopefully a misread as a different
baritone voice speaks out from the crowd.
“he said that your eyes are pretty cool, even like they are made of magic. then
asked if you were a witch.” Out on the side, stands the shorter skeleton, hands
shoved into the jacket pockets as he witnessed the quick signing to the childs
delight, as he jumps higher with excitement and nods. This must be Sans, the
one also capable of travelling to the void. Hopefully you could tell him,
practically praying, so you wouldn’t accidentally just run into him while you
were changing clothes or something. You grow an evil grin, nearing the child.
“Hoooo, a witch? Curses! You’ve discovered my disguise! I guess im just going
to have to put you in my cauldron and gobble you down!” you giggle, tickling
fingers on the childs stomach who responds with glee, but Asgore is a ball of
nerves as you near the child. Realizing his tension, you retreat to ease his
mind. “And for that earlier comment, im 22 dangit. I aint a kid.” You puff your
cheeks in defiance, the woman chuckling under her breath, holding a hand to her
smile.
“THERE ARE REALLY WITCHES?!” come a familiar booming voice, belonging to the
tall skeleton standing in the back overlooking the shorter crowd. He stares at
you, literal stars resembling the one around your phone glittering in his
eyesockets. Its so entrancing and unique its hard to divulge away from the
stare. “I guess you could say that! I know a few magic tricks, BUUUT if I
showed you any now, it would give away my secret, so no spells today!” you
wink, the skeleton absolutely glowing with delight.
“Well, um….Rea?” asks the woman, hesitant she is making a mistake saying your
new name, but you give her a encouraging nod to proceed, “I…If you TRULY are a
bodyguard as you say, this isn’t the first time this has happened. To any of
us. It would make me feel better, but I don’t want to put someone so small
against those terrible men.” She regrets, but you don’t back down.
“What can I do to prove to you I can hold my own? You ask, trying to convince
her of your legality.
“You can take me on, punk!” comes the other booming voice, the tall fish
standing proud, a smug toothy grin spread across her face. The regal goat and
the little dinosaur have a fit of no’s and pleases but you interject.
“Bring it fish-cake. How we going bout this?” You glare a grin back. She seems
to like your attitude, ignoring the fish-cake bit this time as her grin just
grows.
“Me, you, free brawl nothing but fists. Right now.” Keen hunger to fight fuels
a fire in her eyes.
“I say we don’t do this right infront of the group, and if I can down in you 10
seconds, you owe me a drink from that barista shop. Fair?”
“HAHAH! And what do I get if I down YOU in 10 seconds?” she laughs, both of you
never breaking eye contact as you break from the group to not hurt someone in
the brawls process.
“Whatever you want to call. I don’t know what you want…” you cackle,
relinquishing your hood, goggles and hat to the soft grass.
“Hmm…then you have to buy me and Alphys the entire Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 3 Season
Pack for DVD.”
You stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide.
“Dude. I love Mew Mew Kissy Cutie. I already have the 3rd season back in my
closet. After this we are friends, you can watch it all ya want, so PICK
something ELSE.”
“NO WAY, SERIOUSLY?!” She stops too, and Alphys (the yellow dinosaur) squeals
at the revelation of another fellow anime friend.
“Yep, so hurry up and choose something else.” You grin, readying your stance.
“Hmmm…..AH. Me and Paps have been trying to get into this gym on the west side
but they only take memberships. If I win, you get both of us memberships.”
“WHAATT?!?” Screams the tall skeleton, stars forming in his eyes. He must be
Papyrus. Why were these skeletons named after PC fonts?
“Undyne that’s absurdly expensive!” Toriel chimes in, trying to stop the raging
brawl aura emanating between the two of you.
“Deal.” You reply, Toriel groaning in defeat to just watch as you get beaten to
a pulp she will have to heal later.
“First on back is the first down, right?” you ask, Undyne flashing a crazy
smile with a brisk nod. “Asgore can ya give us a count down?” you ask, Asgore
looking unpleased with the entire situation.
“Very well. But Rea…….be gentle please.” He says, Undyne immediately shooting
him a ‘WTF did you just say?’ as he begins the count-down.
“3….2….1!”
At one, Undyne barrels towards you at intense speed, grappling your waist
before you can react. She lifts you to carry through with a body slam, but you
force your arms between, breaking her hold. Aghast from the failure, she throws
a wind breaking punch towards your face, but you ducked into a crouch. Reaching
up hastily, you grab her arm, skidding a leg through tough dirt with a trip up,
bending her arm uncomfortably as she hurls backwards. Following upward, you
drive a knee to her sternum to stop her removal of the ground, settling the
other against the pit of the arm pinned to the ground. Your other arm aimed to
her face to punch, but you freeze, knowing its over.
She huffs a few surprised breaths, before looking to Alphys in shock.
“S….S-S-Six seconds…” she replies, following in complete astonishment. You
release your grip from her giving a heavy sigh.
“Hey that’s pretty good for a first time. Nice near body slam.” You grin,
heaving the helping hand already by hers and crack her wrist. She hisses a
little and swings it in a circle to ensure nothing is broken, before punching
you brutishly in the arm.
“OW-H-HOW!” you yelp, shielding your arm from more abuse. She cackles, throwing
an arm around your shoulder.
“Me and you are going to be training from now on! You gotta teach me and Paps
that leg move, its pretty effective!” she compliments.
Returning the victor to Toriel, she sighs and shakes her head.
“I uh….I suppose you can be our bodyguard. But I don’t want you taking life
determining risks, okay?” she asks, looking to you still as a child. You groan
and appropriate your posture, facing royalty.
“Hey, if your lives are on the line, I need to be the knot that stops it. I
also will need any information of previous attacks or harassment ; you know,
files and catching up on culprits who are only hanging low for now.” You imply,
knowing you need to prove to Baysoph that these monsters aren’t evil. They were
nicer then the majority of mages at THC.
“Of course. Ah, you probably would appreciate knowing our names, yes?” she
corrects, terribly offended that nobody had said their names as an
introduction.
“I am Toriel Dreemurr, it is a pleasure to meet you Rea.”  She eloquently
states.
Asgore shakes from the greeting list. “I think she knows me pretty well, Tori.”
He says, everyone confused, but treating it as an inside joke.
“Im Undyne! You are going to lose to me soon, punk. Just you wait! If I can
never beat you, that’s dishonor on my title as the Royal Guard Captain!” she
barks. Called it. CALLED IT!!
“I-Im Alphys…It’s a p-pleasure to m-meet you. I-Im the Royal S-Scientist…” she
humbly says, retreating behind Undyne secretively.
“NYEHEHEH! HUMAN! I AM NONE OTHER THEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS! I AM AN EXCELLENT
DATER , CHEF, GUARD, BROTHER, AND I HOPE YOUR NEW FRIEND!!” he beams, putting
on a strong smile as he opts to pick you from the ground and hug you close. “I
HOPE YOU WILL AGREE TO TRAIN WITH ME AS WELL, TINY HUMAN.”
“T-Tiny?! But im not-ugh.” You grumble being placed down quickly.
“hey, don’t you know how to greet a new friend?” comes the opposing skeletons
voice, deep and sultry even, rumbling in your ear. You turn towards him
offering a hand of greeti-
PHHFFFBBBFFTT
Hiding the blush is inevitable, the chesire grin snaking wider as you stare to
the skeleton in utter disbelief. You cant even make words ; laughter, groan,
screams, nothing. Just complete shock.
“Im Sans. Sans the Skeleton. Sorry, whoopee cushions as are classic.” He
chuckles, winking, but slowing it down upon your vacant expression.
“kid? hey, don’t have a shortage of emotions too.” He retries. And oh does that
get him a reply. You briskly grab the sides of his hood, lifting him hardly off
the ground.
“Whys everyone gotta call me SHORT?!” you yell, not taking note of the fact of
how insanely light the skeleton is for looking so big underneath. He hardly
seems alarmed at the grabbing, still throwing puns.
“sorry kid, trying to reach new heights. thanks for the hand.” he grins,
tapping your hand.
Oh if Baysoph says they go back, he is going first.
A gentle tug at your stockings turns to be from the true child, as you let the
skeleton drop to his feet to crouch and smile at the child. They had picked up
on your poor ASL skills and typed their words hastily over their cellphone
notes.
---I am Frisk! Its nice to meet you ^U^ <3 Toriel is my mom, so be careful to
not curse near her >.<” <3 Please be careful~
“Awww FRISK!” you squeal with glee “ That’s the most ADORABLE text I have ever
seen!” you hug the child, careful and gently thanks to all eyes on you from the
little joyous outburst. His cellphone begins to vibrate, and looking to the
caller, he makes a gagging face and shows you the caller.
Jerry.
“OH GOD I FORGOT!!” You yell, rushing for your attire still strewn in the
grass. “ASGORE, YOU SHOULD TOTALLY ANSWER FRISKS PHONE!!” you yell, slipping
the cape and hood over in intense haste. Asgore looks to the phone, and then
back to you.
“What happened?” he asked, concerned.
“UH AHEHEHH WELL UM. PRINGLES. I LEFT MY PRINGLES UP ON THE MOUNTAIN. WITH
JERRY. I TOLD HIM I WOULD BE RIGHT RIGHT BACK AND HE MIGHT HAVE EATEN THEM
ALL!! YEP. JUST PRINGLES.” you urge, running rapidly down the hill hardly able
to control your steering and momentum. “DON’T WORRY I WILL CATCH UP WITH YOU ON
THAT EARLIER SUBJECT LATER. BYE BYE!!”
Rushing to the street, you narrowly vault over a car that furiously honks at
you as you skid to the other side of traffic unscathed. Running is your only
option, the prying eyes of everyone from the group watching your hasty retreat
as Asgore ignores the phone-call.
“Well, this has been a uh….eventful outing to say the least. I think it would
be wiser if we all went home though…” the kind suggests, everyone agreeing
almost instantly. Sans lingers beside the King, reading his worried expression.
“whats got you so chilled to the bone?” Sans puns, but the king doesn’t crack a
smile.
“My past is catching up to me more then I would have liked.” he grumbles,
looking to the skeleton.
They both refix their gaze to your fading figure in the distance.
“what did she really say to you?” Sans asking, the king sighing and rubbing his
temple to ease his racing mind.
“That my past was on the brink of reoccurring.” he riddles.
“c’mon asgore. throw me a bone here. we all saw it ; she freaked you out worse
then tori has ever seen.”
“What more do you wish from me friend? Everything was the truth. She truly
saved me from being shot. She truly has come to protect us.” at the last bit he
chokes up, and Sans catches it.
“don’t lie to me asgore. why do you think she wont protect us?” he reasks. He
sighs and turns around, facing the opposite direction besides the skeleton to
view the family and friends he came to cherish.
“Because she couldn’t do it before.” he finishes, leaving the skeleton riddled
thoroughly, more questions formed then answers received.
 
Reaching the base of the mountain, you pant, not used to have to run such a
distance as the scythe and magic carries you. This human act was going to be
taxing to say the least. Reaching the base, your pringles remain in-tact. How
could you have left your beautiful cheddar pringles?! You were the true
monster, shedding a crocodile tear as you greedily crunched into a few. Raps
against a window occur beside you, Jerry looking agrivated.
“Hey, you ready to let me out?!”
“Jerry, you have had the ability to leave this entire time, and alls you had to
do was ask nicely.”
“What? Say PLEASE?” he grumbles, the barrier immediately vanishing into a wave
of magic releasing the little beast back unto the world.
“Told ya.” you shrug, biting into another chip.
He tears off headed for town when you stop him.
“Ah Jerry. If you tell a single soul about what happened today……You wont live
to see the sun again.”
At your darkening voice, Jerry scurries away, a tag of Velcro attached to his
back that held his phone and multiple bags of chips.
Now you knew why they’d sealed the monsters underground.
Chapter End Notes
     Good chapters out today~
     Sleep beckons me. Farewell~
***** Time to Riddle *****
Chapter Summary
     Things come to a settle down point.
Chapter Notes
     Sorry, this chapter was just freaking stressful with no reason to be.

     Its probably just me.
     Enjoy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Withdrawing into the cavernous entrance, you decide to study further into the
history of the monsters at your own risk. Walking down into the rocky entrance,
a light patch of grass is encased in a peeking light; peering up into the
brightness proves fruitless as you deny it to the magical tendencies and
abilities monsters are renowned for.
Passing an archway, you take detailed notes about the symbol lying above.
Proceeding further you approach a yellow flowered room, a dusty thrown
transfixed into the center as lush buttercups accentuate the orange tiled
ground. An uncontrolled ivy leaks from the ceiling, coating the tiles and
intermingling with the deadly flora, also hiding a tarped chair that sits
soundly to the side. Treading silently through the room, you meander down onto
a forked path, opting to take the left route first. Stumbling into a completely
deserted room; hardly any dust left behind. Forging back, you retreat down the
right path reaching more then just a dead end.
A grand window lit straight hall of columns runs a ways, the windows also
bearing the insignia likely of the royal family. The magic pressure surrounding
the walk is suffocating; like magic courses through the pillars as if they were
veins. A battle of unthinkable proportions occurred here, but the remnants are
too scattered to properly discern, merely another questioned leaf in the wind
of forgetting.
Backtracking further, the Underground is much larger then you anticipated; an
enormous city outlaid a sizeable castle. Plenty of the homes still lit and
monsters with even a few humans wandered the distant ground. Most humans must
not have taken to the sudden contact with a race that had secretly existed. The
walkway goes for an eternity before leading into a subtle house, furniture dust
stains left behind after the mass moving it seems. The house is subtle,
comfortable, but void of any color besides the familiar buttercups. Exiting the
houses front stands another long walk, though leading to a pleasant elevator.
Another tricky things monsters were supposedly known for : puzzles.
Exiting the elevator leads you into a mechanical labyrinth. Walking through, it
genuinely confuses as to what the signs, the noises, the feeling this location
seems to breathe. Taking up a quickened pace, you exit the metal and walk
straight into……a mini-mall?
A hotel lobby stands before you, a stone figurine of a calculator with arms and
a microphone resting in the middle of an ivory stone water fountain; water
spewing from a miniature hole in the sculpture. A group of unique looking
monsters stood beside a burger-joint, patiently awaiting an elevator. A
receptionist desk opposite to the group was managed by a….
Theres a giant blue hand with blood red finger-painted nails for a head behind
the receptionist desk. Cautiously approaching the hand-head, you clear your
throat as they turn towards you.
“H-Hey i’m lookin’ for a library or history place of monsters; got anything?”
you hesitate, a hand suddenly being the most awkward being to strike a
conversation with. Could it even speak ?
“Well the only still opened library is in Snowdin, the rest of our history
books were confiscated for research.” she replies.
So it talks……………………………from where though? Not wanting to appear rude, you shake
off the curiosity and persist.
“Okay, how do I get to Snowdin?”
“Well once you leave the main doors, head down the stairway and take your first
sharp left to an elevator labelled R3. Head down to the first left floor and
just walk straight til you reach the river “ she details, flexing her entire
face in normal gestures along with her actual hands. It was confusing and
slightly hypnotizing but a cat like monster with glasses and a single bright
red heel set steps up and begins complaining about the elevator as you choose
this chance to dip out of the conversation.
Taking strict the hand given directions (on fire today. that makes one.) you
make your way to a oddly shaped elevator customized with far too many buttons.
Assuming that the first left floor was L1, you hopefully press the button, the
entire capsule shaking an uncomfortable amount until you reach your
destination. Jarred from the odd experience, you follow a straight path,
forging forward at a 3 way fork and reach a blackened cave wall, stalactites
letting loose droplets shatter the stillness of the stream with miniscule
waves. A faint splashing on the water approaches from an echo down the
darkness, so you await the ferry on the side.
Not even a minute passes until a peculiar boat arrives. A cartoonish dog face
is etched into the front, yet it moves and makes expressions as if it lived;
feet running above the waters surface somehow eliciting a splash for each
prance. Upon the boat is a cloaked figure humming a tune before facing you with
their un-seeable face, a dark abyss inside that sounds pleasantly at you.
“Tra-la-la. I am the riverman. Or am I the riverwoman…? It doesn’t really
matter. I love to ride in my boat. Would you care to join me?” they hum,
swaying slightly as the continue to stare and hum their tune. It’s a familiar
melody yet like a distant memory that you have no use prying in as it only ends
up clogging your brain with unnecessary questions.
“Ah, yes. Can you take me to Snowdin please?” you politely ask as they kindly
gesture to behind them ; hesitantly stepping onto the ‘boat’ as the head turns
and a wooden tongue laps out with joy before it flies along the river.
“Tra-la-la. Tri-li-li. You are not someone who should be.” they sing, catching
you off guard. You resign to sitting on the unsteady boat, thinking how much
they know.
“You been reading too much Dr. Seuss or do you just like to rhyme?” you
comeback.
“Tra-la-la. Tre-le-le. Just like another who vanished one day.” This person was
wise for their riddles. You pursue onwards for the answer.
“Who is the person who vanished that day?”
“Tra-la-la. Tro-lo-lo. He spoke in hands, name now unknown. Tra-la-la. Tru-lu-
lu. Watch out in Waterfall – next could be you.”
“Do you know who I am riverperson?” you glare, but they fall silent as the
destination approaches, a swift gust of freezing wind bracing shut your eyes
and a chill running through your skin. They begin to laugh, or so you presume
as they continue to trill their song.
“Tra-la-la-la! I will not speak, so cause no dismay.” they finish, gesturing to
the snow ridden shore. Relishing the cape, you pull it closer to brave the cold
winds. A splashing erupts behind you, and as you turn the riverperson has moved
on. Merely another knowledged one, even possibly there back during the war, but
their magical perception was incredible if they knew who you were. Kudos to
them, you think, trudging a path into what must be Snowdin (makes sense with
Asgore’s naming tendencies). The entire place is scented pine trees and snow,
neither making sense as they seem to thrive underground, but it is likely more
magic. Friendly snow covered houses lay about, a few tiny blobs of slime
playing with a rather manly wolf that stood on two feet, body the perfect
replication of a furry muscled Adonis. Opting to pass that you stumble into
what is presumably the square or the main section of Snowdin as it bustles with
monster life. Rabbits, Slimes, Dogs, an odd mouse trailing an extensive green
scarf and an orange…devil? Choosing to not question the residents, you turn the
correct direction and immediately stumble upon the library.
Or……well here it’s the ‘Librarby’. Not questioning the misspelling, you proudly
walk in to the minimal cache of books to behold.
Efforts completely fruitless. The humans had truly stripped all the written
knowledge from the monsters, the majority of the stories being nothing but
human fairytales or monster horrors ABOUT humans. The citizens looked far too
gentle and unsure to question about the history, so you opt to cut your losses
and leave; of course checking out a few of the monster tales that seemed
slightly historical and a word-find they handed out.
Walking back to the boat, another building catches your eye, a heavy warm smoke
flowing steadily from the chimney. Approaching closer, what appears to be a
food establishment reflects a relaxing heat that builds and releases as the
door opens to the establishment. Peering inside, an all-too familiar figure
catches your eye. The fire elemental from the war, though now he clearly dawns
a bartenders suit and a set of spectacles.  Not wanting to create a truly
heated situation, you retreat to attack this eventual problem another time.
Recalling the annoying trek back to the park, you decide to throw caution to
the wind, entering the vastly tall forest of pines to create a rift in peace.
Upon entrance and firm closing of the door, you relax and loosen the apparel
changes made by your magic, mentally noting to increase stamina and duration as
this would likely become normal. How had this come to be? Your job was to
reconstruct and amplify the strength of barriers and here you were choosing to
play babysitter to one of the barrier occupants that had gotten loose. From
Roamer to Baby-Sitter ; you truly had terrible jobs.
Walking freely through the void you keep a keen eye out for anymore of the off
blue string, freeing your cellphone from your shorts pockets to test the
connection as you dial Baysoph. As the dial tone rings you jingle the SAVE star
like a bell, a pleasing hum radiating off it as the tone drops to a receive.
Needless to say, the connection is truly flawless.
“Baysoph i’m reporting in. I’m taking it upon myself to study them more so I
will be in this dimension for a long time. Unsure of the total extent. The
humans seem to have the upper aggression and power against the monsters ; mages
might not even be necessary should the humans decide they’re nothing but a
nuisance.” you report.
“Heeehhehehhh…….excellent my dear……….how are you proceeding-hheeeheeh- with
your interactions?” he grumbles, likely stuffing little food in with vast
arrays of medicine and greedy gulps at the thinned air.
“I’m taking up position as a form of bodyguard of the monsters sir. Only Asgore
and another individual seem to know what I truly am, the rest are to be kept
unaware of my magical presence.”
“Another? heehuuehh who?”
“No name was offered sir, but they seemed to speak in riddles. A cloaked figure
riding on a peculiar boat that was part dog? The hummed a tune and told me
tips.”
“What did the-hheeeyyy say?”
“Ummm…Tra-la-la, im the riverman or woman? I love my boat, where do you want to
go? Tra-la-la, tri-li-li you’re not someone who should be…” you repeat, a grunt
of disapproval meaning you must continue this awkward echo.
“Tra-la-la. Tre-le-le. just like another who vanished one day. Tra-la-la. Tro-
lo-lo. he spoke in hands, name unknown. Tra-la-la. Tru-lu-lu. Watch out in
waterfall – next could be you. And when I asked if they knew me they said they
wouldn’t tell anyone ‘to my dismay’. Should I investigate this Waterfall?”
“Hmmm….my dear, I will be-heeeeuuhhuhhheehh- be-heh leaving on an
important…………request. Yoouuu are to AVOID this……Waterfall and…..heehuuhheh re-
examine the memories during………the night……document reports for heeeh my
return…..understood?” his ailing voice utters, as you confirm and with not even
a miserable goodbye as he drops the call, the void now empty without your
voices.
Returning to your thoughts, you must be cautious in the void ; no longer is it
your solitary lair. Sans can supposedly enter, and possibly could have left the
blue string that evaporated before you’d found this dimension. Luckily, he
wouldn’t be able to recognize you ; your eyes and hair had reverted back and
with minor clothing changes he wouldn’t even reconsider.
Fading away into the hazardous blackness, you relax and let time slip away to
wait on the kinds thoughts and your own to settle. Checking the human clock, it
reads 10 PM which is enough to cease your floating and return. Opening a void
over the building you had previously landed on, you gaze out into the bustling
night. Hookers, party goers, intimidating groups, monsters choosing to stick
together for the terrifying night. But now wasn’t when and where you needed to
be, and slipping back into your human apparel and discarding the cloak into
your phones storage, you slide down the building with much more ease and grace
then prior.
Following the kings magic essence is incredibly easy. He doesn’t seem able to
control the intense waves of power and authority he emits that lingers in the
air like the smell of bad cheese. Following the trail (scent? musk? gross…)
leads to a surprising end, reconsidering the monsters situation. Hated by a
solid majority number of humans, the government not seeming to give a rats ass
and the general vibe of the town residing outside of Ebott, your surprised at
their nice conditions.
A long street bustling with newly built houses, big ones with a hint of flair
and finesse to them but not enough to rear back the ‘Im rich – get over it’
vibe. Most of the houses seem untouched, though the rare unfriendly graffiti
art or something vandalized or broken is clearly noticeable. Disregarding that,
it appeared like a perfect friendly neighborhood. Of course the trail leads to
one of the largest houses on this street ; as in this house is 3 houses all
connected to the center, like a mansion. Each house entrance displayed a
different address, mailbox, and even a doormat ; the left had a bone, the
center had a heart, and the right was a fish. Immediate groupings and pairings
of who lived where proceeded into your brain before bravely knocking against
the door.
A few moments pass…nothing stirs. Retreating back, you confirm the majority of
the houses lights are on and give another persistent knock.
“Knock knock?” you feebly beg, resigning to achieving nothing at this
supposedly late hour.
“whos there?” jokes a familiar baritone voice. You can hear the snickering from
beyond the wood, and you play along.
“Adore.”
“adore who?”
“Adore is between us. I didn’t know you hated me so. Heart? SHATTERED.” you
joke, feebly posing hurtfully as the door creaks open, a chuckling lazy
skeleton eyeing back with curiosity.
“that any better?” he grins, yawning playfully as he leans against the door.
“No and yes. No because its actually sort of chilly out here and yes because I
suppose you listened and now there isn’t a door between us.” you regret,
snaking your fingers beneath your pits to stimulate warmth. It was likely 50
degrees and you were in booty shorts.
“well, i’d let you in – its pretty ideal in here though, most folks like
sleep.” he yawns again, accepting the comforting warmth inside.
“Just leaving me out in the cold huh? Coldshoulder applies in every sense of
the word.” you shiver, the skeleton huffing a giggle.
“what do you need? its nearly midnight, short-stuff.” he winks, your face
flaring with aggravation.
“Oh my ffffff- stop calling me short! You’re only like 4 inches taller then me!
And I came to speak to Asgore.” you complain, a low engine revving vibrating
down the street. You turn to meet the nasty gaze of a hooded group rambling
down the street in a unlicensed car. Anti-monster thugs.
“ooohh great, unwanted cavalry.” Sans grumbles, leaning back into the doorway.
“step on in short-stuff. nothin’ but boys thinkin’ they’r bad to the bone.” he
gestures, but you aggressively turn to approach the car. “kid?” he questions
but you’re too far gone.
The shady low-ridder rolls to a stop as you approach the passenger side.
“Milady do you need a chauffer from these detestable vermin? Im sure they’ve
done nothing but muddy your existence with their oh so humble lives.” a smooth
talker suggests, a few colleagues laughing. They wield bats, and worn-down at
that – likely the menaces roaming these kind streets.
“Ooohh what a gentleman! If you could-“ you suggest, the unlucky bastard taking
the bait as he offers his arm from the window. You wrench the fuckers arm
upwards and diagonally until something pops and he whimpers after deafening
screams.
“Could you lend me a hand and drive yourselves outta this neighborhood right
the fuck now? I would REALLY appreciate never having to smell you shits around
here again.” you groan.
Though the posse in the back is raring to fight with the weapon advantage, the
driver and passenger don’t reciprocate the same confidence, the driver punching
the gas with a loud tire burning throttle as they speed down the road. Turning
back to Sans who has a amazed and smug look smeared over his face you sigh and
walk back ready for round two as the car had finally u-turned and drove past.
THNK.
“FFFFFF-UCK” you scream, clutching the back of your head as a rock sized item
made of metal just bashed a dent into your skull.
“MONSTER WHORE!!” comes the voice of one of the men as they speed away
permanently. You’re too busy clutching a growing lump, knees clutched in on the
ground to even care whatever they just yelled. Any attempts to rise from your
low position are met with an infuriating headache and shocks of electric pain
surging through you.
“hey. you ‘lright?” Sans asks, kneeling to your level to glance into your eyes.
A tiny tear prick has quietly formed and runs down your face in an escape
attempt, but Sans catches it with a bony digit, treasuring the sign of weakness
you’d let slip by.
“Fine. Feels like they just hit me with a fucking stove.” you grumble, feeling
at the increasing size of the lump.
“that can be arranged.” he remarks, and as you gaze at him puzzled he gestures
to the dented beer can they had pelted you with.
“A beer can? Really? So unoriginal.” you scoff, wincing and instantly recalling
that nothing can be done for this splitting headache until you get away.
Standing with a slight wobble, Sans holds your shoulder for comfort and minor
concern but you brush him off.
“If uh…Asgore isn’t up I will just come back tomorrow or something. Or in a
week. Ya.” you contemplate, tenderly rubbing the sore. “Week.” you grumble,
walking to the street.
“hey hey hey c’mon short-stuff. he’s up, c’mon.” Sans reassures, taking your
elbow and groggily steering you to the still open door. You give no protest as
he ensures you don’t fall to the sides as you stumble. Your vision was becoming
slightly hazy and a sticky warmth was seeping over your hand as you compressed
the lump.
Stepping into the linked abode is very homey. Pictures lined the beige flower
wallpaper, the floor a cold and sleek cocoa mahogany decorated with a carpet
for the thing hall you found yourself in. To the left was a staircase and
further in was a coffee-table that’s only purpose was to hold the vase that
waited for an array of colorful flowers to zest its white glaze with a rainbow
of colors.
Entering a natural wooded living room, a brick fireplace in the slanted corner
blossoms with a tiny flame, the walls covered in portraits of family members
and Asgore relaxing in an enormous lounger buried into a book with a tiny set
of spectacles. His fur gleams like golden hair as the fireplace illuminates the
dimmed room. He glares up to your gaze, instantly dropping the book as his face
changes from horror, wrath, and ending with concern. Sans seems startled at the
kings sudden shifting expressions as you wave at him groggily with the blood
ridden hand.
“What happened?” he asks, standing abruptly and approaching, yet remaining
silent as the majority of the house was actually probably asleep.
“low-rider without the tag. hit her in the head with a beer can.” Sans replies,
the king guiding you into a white and gold kitchen practically sparkling clean.
He seats you at a stool near a counter while fishing around with a teapot and
water.
“And you took the hit?” he asks, confused.
“My back was turned man, what else you expect from me? I ain’t perfect.” you
argue, pressuring a paper towel to the lump. Asgore heats up a kettle of water
as Sans settles beside you in a stool, opening a booklet that’s nothing but
crosswords. “Dude. Looking at that is making my head spin.” you grumble,
glaring away from the mesh of words and riddles.
“how have they crossed you? ah- e-q-u-a-l-i-“ he mutters, having just figured
out the solution as the king sighs and pours a few cups of tea that resembles
honey. You opt to picking the sad betrayed beer can and giving it a tender pet.
“I don’t know what’s more upsetting : them hitting me while my back was turned
or them wasting perfectly good beer?” you grumble, briskly opening and gulping
before the shaken can sprays the room.
“aren’t you too young for that?” Sans spews, you tapping off the rest in hearty
gulps and then glare the skeleton down.
“Excuse me! I am old enough!” you retort, the skeleton rattling with a low
laughter.
“even if you weren’t, there’s no where to distribute it.” he chuckles, eyeing
your small physique. He had you there ;liquor holding never became easier……but
he didn’t have to be a smart-ass about it.
“Oh please! I have had PLENTY of years of experience to know how to hold my
damn liquor! I don’t need a skeleton who doesn’t even have a gullet to tell me
I cant distribute my beer!” you raise. Its definitely hitting you. Fuck. Beer
was a bad idea ;you always opened up when you drank. Asgore silently hushes
you, concerned for any leakage of information and waking other residents.
“plenty? isn’t the legal age 21?” Sans asks, Asgore tensing greatly as he turns
to observe. You’re no longer thinking straight.
“HUH?! Who do you take me for? I have been drinking for 50-“ you explain, a
giant fuzzy paw smacking against your mouth to silence your rambling.
“Rea, that’s enough. He is right, you're fueled easily by the alcohol ;please.”
he relaxes, gesturing to the tea.
Sipping at the tea fills you with a warm vibe, like you’d just gotten into a
pleasant lukewarm bath, someone massaged your shoulders and magically removed
the stinging lump on the back of your head. It pulses inside you, even
caressing your soul as you gasp at the odd sensation.
“Golden flower tea…” you whisper unknowingly, remarking at the fabled healing
replica that was previously traded between monsters and humans as a sign of
peace. It helped with ailments, injuries, and the thought process : a warmth
spreading over the body in a state of tranquil recuperating.
“heh, how’d ya know?” Sans wonders. His voice staggers you from the warming
coil, the king concerned.
“Oh uh…a wild guess? I read in a book it was used through the royal family, but
it was just a fairy-tale I thought…” you lie, smirking slightly to appear
reminiscent.
“oooh. which one?” he pressures, a kind but fake smile as he waits on baited
breath.
“Come Sans. Must we barrage her with thoughts after being attacked?” Asgore
chimes in, trying to break the awkward tension and focus of Sans. Sans
certainly gives him a suspicious glare, but nods off and flounders off his
stool.
“ ‘lright, ‘lright, i’ll bounce. i got my socket on you, short-stuff.” he hums,
you groaning and taking another sip of your tea as he vanishes in the direction
of his supposed house, the darkness consuming the white bones.
After a few hesitant moments of insuring all the doors and windows, listening
for any nearby movement, Asgore settles gulping at the tea as well, beads of
sweat trickling through his fur and beard.
“This is going to be quite the feat to how long this can remain a secret.” he
complains, sighing and relaxing as best he can, seating himself to Sans’ prior
stool. You feel terrible but also giddy ;long lasting lies always crack you up
for all the needless stress.
“Im fine with you tellin’ them. But if you don’t i'm just going to watch you
squirm. Is that wrong?” you question out loud, pondering your sanity as a light
chuckle comes from the king as he hangs his head low.
“……Slightly.” he mutters, taking a generous sip.
“Oh…doesn’t mean i’m still not going to do it!” you laugh, patting the defeated
shoulder before reaching the subject.
“Anyway, sorry to burst in during the night but I need a few things.” you say,
Asgore looking to meet your eyes, as the unsureness swirls through his mind.
“1. I need a place to sleep. 2. Reports of ANY incidents or encounters the
monsters have directly had with other humans. 3. Your orders.” you list off,
ending with a smile.
“A-And?” he questions, expecting more.
“Ah! Can I have one meal a day with you guys? It might help bonding and having
you trust me more then you honestly do because that list was all I
need………unless you want me to list off more, but those are the only
requirements.” you rethink but one last question comes to mind.
“Sorry one more. 4. Who are the fire-elemental and the riverperson? Course
that’s not REALLY a requirement, but more of a demanding question.” you
suppose, Asgore looking troubled.
“The fire-elemental? Who?”
“Ah. Memories – I saw a fire-elemental back then, and the same one not long ago
in a diner below ground. I also had a little run-in with the riverperson who is
quite the riddler, but they seem to know who I was immediately. They swore to
say nothing.” you reply, Asgore in sudden deep thought.
“Well, the fire-elemental you are referring to must be Grillby. He owns a bar
underground and on the surface……should you show any proof of your identity, he
likely wouldn’t be calm. He hides it well, but the past haunts him. As for the
riverperson, even I am unaware to their true identity ; they hold secrets and
don’t speak clearly, but if they are aware of whom you are its concerning. What
did they say?” he hopes, recalling how everyone will likely want you dead.
“They were singing a tune and rhyming with it. Uhh…god uhh…tri-li-li you are
not someone who should be….tre-le-le just like another who vanished one
day………oh umm… tro-lo-lo he spoke in hands, name now unkown – tru-lu-lu watch
out for Waterfall next could be you. What is Waterfall?” you return, the king
in deep thought.
“It’s a water-riddled land in the Underground with glowing mushrooms and
waterfalls. Undynes turf - but she never mentioned any man speaking in hands.”
he ponders.
“Well they said their name was now unknown and that they vanished before . Can
you recall anyone vanishing?” you offer, but he shakes his head no.
“Nothing. I feel an odd sense of de-ja-vu when I think about speaking with
hands, but it is likely just hopeful thoughts of Frisk.”
“So back to square one. Anyone else I can ask about this stuff without making
it seem odd?” you grumble, sipping more of the liquidated honey as it thrums
the magic in your soul. It was a dangerous beverage ; it could cause an anomaly
or surge of magic you couldn’t contain. Note to self : Drink GFT extremely
moderately.
“Alphys would probably be the best, though she will question silently. She had
cameras everywhere in the underground, watching over any humans and Frisk who
came through… I need to rethink who can know and who cant.” he smothers his
face with his hands, trying to get a grip. A thought occurs.
“Would Frisk know?” you ask, the kind groaning but laughing not long after.
“If he knew he wont say. He and Sans seem to get along as if they can read each
others minds, but my child refuses to fully open up about any events. Sans cant
even seem to manage it. Should you get the child to talk…well I suppose you
really will have earned the title wizard.” he muses, seeming much more light-
hearted on the topic as he sips the nearly empty teacup.
“I prefer witch but whatever. Now I feel like I need to be Dr. Phil. I promise
I will get something out of him!” you wink playfully, dread overtaking the king
suddenly as you frantic to fix the misunderstanding.
“W-What about the rest? Ya – all the other requirements.” you remind.
“I can type and print any reports of incidents tomorrow, and what else?” he
forgets.
“A place to stay and your orders. Do I need to go easy on these guys or…y’know
can I wreck their faces? Because I totally broke a guys arm out there
nonchalant.” you hesitate, the gentle monsters probably not seeking the death
of the hate groups.
“Nothing more then that please. If anything try to just ward them off and
protect my people. As for the residency requirements……” he withholds, pondering
the options nervously. While waiting, you clean the emptied tea-set and bring
them to the sink, rinsing the stains and smudge.
“Here.”
“Huh?” you ask, turning the rushing water off and wiping dry your hands.
“You can stay here. But under strict rules!” he corrects, taking a sterner
approach. Your eyes widen, intaking the information the brave bastard was
giving you.
“I don’t want you alone with anyone; you’re to inform me when you’re going
somewhere and if you’re going with someone I need exact coordinates and time-
schedule, or some way of contact. I want to keep strict track of your movement.
Every night it would also be good to report the days events, but that can be
extended to every few days. Should anyone in this house give you orders or
anything, you’re to strictly follow them. If its questionable, please check in
with me. No magic – period ; I refuse to risk your exposure and I will die
before I let it accidentally hurt anyone. I…I just-“
“Its fine.” you remind, Asgore looking absolutely exhausted after the stern
outbreak, “I need to be allowed to use it in emergencies though, your majesty.
Like moving somewhere fast or saving a life? I also need to escape to my lair
to destress and let loose. Know how much concentration it takes to focus your
energy to change your apparel and for extended periods of time? I need to be
allowed to ‘vanish’ for a while, and I highly doubt a tracker will work where I
‘vanish’.” you subtly remind.
“I can understand that, but if you can I want to know when and for how long.
You need to proceed with great caution and you cannot be caught under any
circumstances unless an utmost emergency.” he corrects, you giving a faint nod.
“Did you get all that? Im sorry to throw so many rules onto you, but I merely
seek the security of my friends and family…”
“Its fine your majesty. Don’t be alone with monsters, let you know where I am,
report in daily, follow anyones orders, no magic. That all? That’s pretty much
what I did before hand!” you joke, recalling the even stricter set of rules the
court had stuck to you like a leech. “Oh, I might also need to dip out every
now and then ;my job before anything is to ensure the other barriers don’t
break, so I might need to check them weekly as I have done before.” you remind,
the king agreeing to your terms.
“Your room is on the highest floor of our house. Its pretty sized and nobody
wanted to have to travel so far in a possible sleep deprived state. I hope
that’s alright…” he announces. You give a curt shrug as he finally stands and
leads you towards the stairs. Dropping down to a hesitant whisper  as you both
make your way up the stairs he questions further.
“What was that incident with Jerry?” he asks, you halting and looking guilty.
“He was really pushing my buttons so I kinda…ya know…back behind bars?” you
slyly comment, making a hand mimic of a barrier to help drive the point.
“You can form one by yourself?!” he quietly shrieks, covering his mouth as you
pass his bedroom, a faint snore echoing off the door.
“Ya dude. If I couldn’t I would be pretty shit at my job.” you curse, him
shushing as a final door before the next set of stairs with a wooden slab
labelled Frisk adorned with little flowers hangs proudly. Cant curse by
children – got it.
Finally reaching the 3rd floor you’re amazed at how spacious it is for just one
door. He fiddles around and you discover this door has been locked all this
time as he generates a key from his pants, handing it to you. Opening the door,
it’s a pretty big room that holds anything that wasnt needed previously. It
also appears to be Frisks secret play area as toys are scattered around. Asgore
looks concerned.
“How did Frisk get in here? I thought I had the only key……must have missed one.
Im sorry I will retrieve his key in the morning. Um…” he recollects, unable to
deny the unsavory condition of the room. It was spacious, windows pointing
straight to the sunset, the curtains non-existent. The grey wood flooring is
dusted over severely from the year of neglect the family gave it. A single bed
strewn with old books is littered over it, a snug ball comprised of the sheets
settled on top, pillow stolen. There is a private study attached and even a
bathroom, but they are equally neglected. A sad discovery ; someone had climbed
the building, broken the window, and dumped an entire can of paint into the
bath-tub and majority of the once pristine lavatory.
“That’s impossible…I didn’t-“ Asgore looks mortified, discovering that someone
entered his house so easily.
“Its fine Asgore. They couldn’t do anything since the room was locked and they
no longer will be able to get nearly as far with me here. Im going to need a
few days to settle in, proper up the place if you can understand.” you shrug,
opting to close the now olive green bathroom.
“Im okay with that but the thought…the thought that Frisk was in here and could
have been…all alone……I don’t know what I would do if he went missing……what WE
would do…” he rephrases, deep thinking a miserable thought as he covers his
snout to silence his speech.
“Alright c’mon you fuzzy royal. Go get some sleep. I’ll prove myself to you yet
and keep the whole shin-dig a secret – so go get some sleep. Imma try and clean
this place up in the morning. Go on, lock me in if it’ll make you feel any
better.” you suggest handing him the keys. “I wont judge you, and that way
nobody can bust in to the surprise of me being here.”
With a reluctant and tired yawn, he takes the keys, quietly shutting the door
with a form locking click.
Okay you judged him a little, but it was fine. He had every reason to strict
you with a mass of rules, to consider you a threat to his now humble and happy
life. Despite the cold, you open a window and fish through your phones
inventory for a jacket, pillow, and proper sheets. Of course why would you
carry sheets? The comfort is finding 2 blankets to replicate sheets for the
time being, tossing the balled covers to the side and laying them out onto the
dirty mattress. Removing the books, you scour the titles. The majority are more
monster fairytales, yet a more crafted one is found in the rubble, torn and
soaked, labeled with “dIarY” in confusing childish writing.
Not being one to waste an opportunity, you flip through the pleasant read. A
miniature adorable neatly written 'Frisk' waits inside the cover. A child like
him must have a broad horizon of stories that could help you get some needed
rest. Besides, it was his fault for not keeping such a private book out of
reach...then again he must have thought this place was so out of reach, despite
his parents having a key. Taking a moment to reconsider, you only realize
you've read through the first 4 pages before you give into curiosity, hoping
satisfaction will bring you back.
Day 1 ----today I met toriel, sans and papyrus. they are so nice! they are so
much nicer then my parents. I want to stay here, with
them.                                   
Day 4 ----undyne and alphys finally called me their friend. They like each
other and im determined to help them see it. undyne asked me to give her a
letter, but we ended up going on a date. it was really fun!
Day 6 ----when should I tell them? I don’t know what happened, but I slipped
and fell. I woke up and I was back to that date with alphys. they said I
loaded. Who are they? Flowey is missing.
Day 7 ----Flowey found us. It was planned. but he is still my friend. He just
isn’t thinking right.
Day 9 ----I reset. I don’t know how. I don’t understand. Im back at the start,
meeting toriel, my mom. she doesn’t recognize me, she is repeating her words. I
don’t understand.
Day 12 ----Undyne killed me. I woke up back in moms. A voice told me my
determination brought me back, let me reset, kept me alive. That I can meet my
friends and enjoy that feeling over and over.
Day 13 ----I reset. Its true. I met mom again. I am so happy!
Day 27 ----I have lost count of how many times I reset. I am going through
quicker each time, the same talks, the same faces, the same fights.
Its…changing me.
Day 30 ----The voice gave me an idea. I don’t know about it…they told me to
kill instead of love. If I hated it, I can reset and they wont remember.
Day 32 ----It is easier to kill but it feels wrong. Its different then normal
but I dont know what I want to do now. They are encurging me, and I am becoming
stronger. This is new.
Day 35 ----I killed Papyrus. Again. But this time I didn’t reset. Why am I
smiling?
Day 37 ----This knife is covered in dust. Im covered in dust. This is wrong and
right. How am I doing?
Day 39 ----Sans is so strong. I never knew. He has killed me so many times I
lost count. Its good he is keeping count.
Day 40 ----Sans is scary. Sans is tough. Sans is DETERMINED.
Day 46 ----What have I done. I cant take it back. No matter what I do the voice
is there. She is taunting me, playing with me, she even killed flowey. I cant
stop. I hate this!
Day 47 ----Its so dark. I cant see! I want to leave!! She is laughing again.
Please! STOP!!
Day 48 ----STOPITNOOO NOOONOONONOONO PLEASTOPIITTT
KiLlKIlLKiLLkIlLPLeAsepLEAseKiLlKliLkILl
Day 50 ----Stop, please. Im so tired. Please dont hurt them anymore. Dont hurt
me anymore. PLEASE. PLEASE STOP. LEAVE THEM ALONE PLEASE!! please. im so sorry.
im so sorry, everyone. someone please help. help me.
Day 61 ----I finally got Chara to listen. We made it to the top! All of us,
even Flowey. I cant bring Mr. Goop with me. Im sad, but I will visit him. He is
too alone.
Day 74 ----The kids at school bully me. The police think mom took me. Sans and
Undyne got in trouble, Papyrus is so worried. He didn’t make spaghetti.
Day 78 ----Chara beat up kids for me at school. Mom got in trouble, but Dad
took the blame. Sans came home and said he could now be called my dunkle. I
love my friends. They are amazing. I hope this lasts…I wont let it reset.
Day 81 ----I broke all the SAVEs. Nobody knows. Nobody needs to. I wont let it
happen not again. Im happy. We are happy. Me, Flowey, and Chara. This is our
family. We are home.
An adorable scribbling of a group of monsters, all neatly labeled rests on the
next page, a yellow flower labelled Flowey and a faceless girl in a green
sweater with a wide smile labelled Chara. They must have trouble drawing
skeletons as Papyrus is a stickfigure with scribble ribs and a red scarf, Sans
resembling a achromatic potato in a blue shell. Undyne and Alphys are similar
but spinier, Asgore and Toriel coming out nicely, though more to the sense of
furries in costume. For some reason, they intensely scribbled a blob with a
white spot near the top, but it wasn't labeled. It wasn't bad considering how
complex all his friends appeared ; valiant effort on his part. 
All entries after that are similar : go to school, talks about friends and
jokes, minor troubles, but nothing comparing to that meshed violent scribble.
This wasn’t a kids imagination. Who were these other people : Flowey and Chara?
Mr. Goop? Those violent scribbles back near the 50 day pages were nightmarish,
violent and desperate. But something else struck your interest. Frisk knew
about the SAVE stars.
You will need to report this, but surely not to Asgore. Maybe not even Baysoph.
Not until you understood this better.
Clutching the book close, you cradle underneath the blankets on the dusty
mattress and slip into sleep.
Chapter End Notes
     Real quick : No the little frisk diary part with the encurging ISNT a
     typo ; Frisk is a kid, I just figured he would have a minor issue
     with spelling. I know I struggle, and im a young adult! Kids be
     allowed to misspell. Same goes for all the diary mis-punctuation,
     commas, apostrophes, etc. I swear - Its on purpose.
***** Time for Heavy Rain *****
Chapter Summary
     In which Asgore sucks at holding secrets.
Chapter Notes
     10,000+ Words....Why. Why do I do this to myself, over and over?
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Waking up with a slight hangover is your curse.
Waking up to someone picking the lock to your room is your literal problem.
The fumbling and aggravated grunts coming from beyond the lock spring you into
action, but you retreat to the wall and listen closely.
“dammit – why did he lock it?” comes a tiny voice a bit too high-pitch and
deviant to be human. The doorknob gives in to the retaliating pick, as the door
flies open, shielding your line of sight and theirs as it flies open to conceal
you. A tiny set of feet wander in, scampering around.
“Hurry UP Frisk!” growls the voice, the padding feet jumping to rustle the
fixed sheets. You concede your hiding spot, speaking up and stepping out.
“Frisk?” you hush, catching the child as he shifts through your blankets.
“Who are you?!” comes the tiny voice, and looking down to the doorway is a
miniature yellow petal flower with a white center, a cartoonish face stuck in a
scowl as it looks up from its small pot, adorned with colorful hearts.
“Ah. A monster. Im Rea ; Asgore gave me this room since I’m the new bodyguard.
And who might you be little one?” you crouch down, trying to level with the
shorter monster.
“Flowey.” he growls in return, his face tense as he scans you thoroughly.
“Well, nice to meet you Flowey. Mind telling me why you and Frisk are up
breaking into this room at-“ you pause to glance at the clock before returning
to Frisks figure with a knowing smile “-8:30 in the morning?”
Frisk rushes to defend Flowey, though it looks more like he is stopping him as
the flowers face mildly contorts to stuff of nightmares.
‘I left something up here.’ he signs, trying to avoid conflict. Agreeing with a
nod, you stand and fish around the sheets, finding his diary.
“This it kiddo? Any other secret stuff you got hiding up here?” you poke,
handing the diary to the very pleased child who checks the contents before
safely stuffing it under his sweater.
‘No. I’m sorry we didn’t knock. I was worried dad found it.’ they sign, a
grateful grin growing across their face as they bend back to carry Flowey.
Vines rim the edge of the ceramic, moving ever so slightly as the flower
continues to groan and scowl, averting from your stare.
“Hey Frisk.” you stop them before they wander far, and they come scrambling
back.
“You remind me of me as a kid. Happy, enthusiastic about life. So full of
energy and a need to share happiness with all those around you, right?” you
ask, Frisk bobbing their head in agreement, their hair flailing loosely,
entwining in on itself. Some rests on one of Floweys petals, much to their
dismay, as they shrink towards the soil, hissing at the threadlike follicles.
“Well Frisk, I was……different. People distanced themselves from me because of
that, but it didn’t stop me trying to be nice. I went through a-lot and never
let it show, but I was quite miserable : hiding in my room, keeping worries to
myself. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to read that somethings wrong and
you wont say anything.” you joke, poking lightly at the book concealed under
their sweater. A light giggle comes from them, but they hide their face from
your view.
“I will tell you this Frisk : bottling up these problems, these...feelings or
whatever you have going on? It’ll cut you short in the long run. I talked to
your Pops – he is worried because you never talk to him or your mom or even
Sans about your problems. I don’t mean to pry and pick, I just don’t want you
to end up like me.” you finish, ruffling his hair. Flowey is growling
hesitantly as you pull away, clear distrust in his face. They must be very
close, these two. You refuse to tell him you read in on his secret ; maybe you
could get him to open up , relinquish his secret barrier in a sense. Standing
up, you check your same attire before nudging Frisk and company out the door.
Frisk pushes Flowey into one arm, tugging your shorts with the other for
attention.
‘Whats wrong with you?’ they sign, a multitude of questions likely scouring
their poor tiny brain. You sigh and take Frisks shoulder, leading them
downstairs.
“What isn’t?”
 ------------------------------------------
Wandering to the downstairs, Frisk quickly distances himself and rushes the
kitchen. Following behind at a much slower and early pace, Toriel and Asgore
are crafting breakfast pancakes, a rich syrup wafting through the air. Coming
into the open, Asgore tenses at the sight, but slowly relieves as you stand
back giving a gentle wave. He gestures you forward and you take a seat at the
counter. Toriel turns to you with a big smile, but her eyes read differently.
Very judging and testy, looking for flaws. She says nothing but gives Frisk a
peck on the cheek.
“Thank you again for letting me dorm upstairs. I can understand its pretty
awkward to just let someone like me stay, but I mean this : I really appreciate
your hospitality.” you express. Nobody visually softens to your gratitude, but
Frisk starts signing.
‘Mom, we’re going to be late!’ the stress, cheeks stuffed with fluffy pancakes.
“I understand dear, but don’t sign with a mouthful ; it’s rude.” she replies,
wiping away some syrup on the messy face with a wet napkin.
“Ah, where you heading to kid?” you ask, feeling out of place in this happy
family vibe.
‘School!’ they delight, swallowing hard and sharing some pancake with Flowey.
The upset flower hasn’t spoken much and continues to drawl a menacing stare in
your direction. You ignore the fiendish gaze, trying to enthuse about the
education system.
“Ah, right. Mondays.” you recall, contemplating if you could speed time to end
this first annoying week faster. This was obviously dubbed the awkward week,
all the odd stares, quiet questions? This was the week they were coming out on.
You consume some of the given pancakes, amazed by Toriels skill.
“Mrs. Dreemurr these are really good! Compliments to the chef!” you mutter,
trying to cover your mouth as to not be rude and show the half chewed delicacy.
She giggles, but has a confused smile on her face. Asgore looks tense, hiding
his face behind the morning newspaper.
“Ah-haha. Well thank you dear. Come along my child. Get your school bag and
shoes ready.” Toriel asks, Frisk happily jumping from their seat to find their
shoes, Toriel picking up Flowey. She grabs a purse and a light coat and heads
to the door awaiting Frisk.
“Ah, Toriel? Want me to walk them to school?” You offer, probably to Asgores
displeasure but you don’t spare him a glance as Toriel waves it off.
“Oh thank you Rea but I work as a teacher so we are both headed the same way
anyways. Thank you though. Have a good day, and please be careful.” she calls
back, Frisk rushing out the door, plucking Flowey enthusiastically from her
grasp as she closes and locks the door. Asgore lets out a sighed relief,
relishing a drink of coffee to help pass the morning.
“Anyone else in the house?” you question, tone changing to the solitary
confinement.
“No. Everyone is at work. As will I in an hour, which leaves the question of
what you will be doing.” he mutters, ruffling his hair, pulling a heavy
stressed paw down his exhausted features to tangle and twist his shaggy beard.
“Hey, you’re the boss. I can waste time in my lair, get to moving stuff in, go
do some patrolling, get to know some folks. A terrible first impression it
would be to just tell me to stay put, hidden away until the most opportune
time.” you drawl, putting away your dishes and fiddling around with a mug. “Got
any cocoa?”
“Ah, top left shelf.” he says, pointing the way where you find the delicious
powder. Not huge on coffee in the morning – it crashed too hard for your
liking. “ I suppose settling in and patrolling would be best. I’ve written out
the reports should you wish to survey them, but the only other thing to be done
is Frisk finishes school before anyone gets out from work and I would feel
better if……if you walked them home.” he grumbles, not enthused by his final
decision. He gives you the address and time school gets out gasping as he
suddenly pulls out a small box, gesturing it to you.
“What is it?” you ask as you open it. Inside lays an adorable bracelet, vined
with thinned metal and very intricate. It has a different colored crystal in
small sockets, glimmering against the sun with a rainbow. It even has a watch
installed into it! Reviewing the unprecedented gift, you give him a thankful
gaz-
“Your tracker.”
…”Oh.”
“I’m sorry! I-I don’t mean it rudely, but I wouldn’t lie about the matter. It
will appear like a normal bracelet I hope.”
“No. Its uh…fine.” you comment, clipping on the tricky tracker as Asgore sighs
with relief, leaving to prepare for work.
You take the moment to look around the house, notice all the photos and lively
pictures hung through the house. Plenty of them involve Frisk, but some are
special holidays or occasions. A particular one strikes you as serene yet
impactful : A distance shot of everyone laying on their backs near a lake,
admiring the night-skies stars. Sans has a pair of binoculars, though its
pretty unhelpful, yet they all look so bewildered in awe at the open ocean of
stars. Who could blame them? Asgore walks back out in a very standard grey and
beige suit, fiddling with car keys as he takes a sharp glance at you.
“You have your tracker, yes?” he questions, and you groan and show that the
pretty bracelet hasn’t left your wrist. He fiddles with the tie, his paws
trying to properly loop the human contraption until you give in and tie it for
him. He hides his embarrassing shame with a lingering silence.
“You should get a clip-on until you can do this alone.” you suggest,
straightening the finished product.
“I will consider it. Thank you, goodbye, and please don’t cause any unnecessary
trouble.” he pleads before leaving the house. The millisecond the door closes,
you whip out your multiverse phone, calling a familiar face as you creak
upstairs. A few dial rings in and the other end happily receives.
“Hello?” comes the soothing voice you missed like a fish misses water.
“Why hello there!! Can you do me a favor Mir-Mir?” you coo Mirage, an excited
squeal erupting from the other end.
“Where have you BEEN little time-rift jumper?!” she screams, through,
threatening to break your eardrums.
“Face up and I can show you.” you riddle, allowing the camera as you freely use
magic to levitate the phone, side-pulling a holographic screen that emits a
familiar face. Mirages hair has decided to flow upwards today, resembling a
reverse waterfall with a deep blue radiating through, her pale complexion
contrasting resembling foam or snow. Through the phone she can see your room,
and her face turns to one of horror.
“Oh dear. What happened?” she asks, surveying before you allow your human-form
into view, to which she yelps. “Oh my god. You look adorable!!” she awes,
looking at your form like an infant.
“Not the time Mirage. I need you to go to my room and send stuff to my storage
– I need to make this place a little homier. Going to be here a while.” you
grouch, pulling a vacuum from storage and starting on the dust infestation.
Mirage carries the phone to your room while still upholding conversation.
“I heard you were on a long-lasting mission before Baysoph left. Can you
tattle?” she begs, giving an innocent puppy dog eye.
“Alls he told me to do was go between worlds doing what I was doing before :
resealing and amping barriers and seals. Well I stumbled onto this world and
the Ebott barrier was absolutely destroyed; nothing left of it.” you tell, her
giving a light gasp as she sneaks through the halls.
“What was inside? How did it break?”
“Well, inside were a vast species of monsters, varying a lot in appearance and
type. Well they have been essentially roaming about for a year now, and the
humans here are giving them more shit than they are them. If they are safe
enough to allow here, it could mean one less barrier in our world!” You
enthuse, making your way to the pink painted bathroom with a grieving sigh.
“Can you send me some dish soap? Oh and a bin.” you ask, glancing back to the
camera which has slowly floated through the quarters.
“Coming right up!” she beams, rushing into your room and reaching the bathroom,
fumbling around until your phones storage gives a pleasing ping. Instant
storage transfers, where would we be without you? you ponder, pulling the
requested items free and filling the bin with warm water and dish soap.
“Alright. Need anything else?” she mumbles, relaxing on your bed after locking
the door for privacy.
“Sure uh, give me a quick scope of the room.” you request, her giving a long
gaze about before making final decisions. She sends your bed, laptop and
charger, camera, a vast amount of empty notebooks and history books, even
anything she can swipe from Baysophs stash. Taking a risky step, you erect a
thin concealer barrier around your private study, ensuring no way in or out
without an incantation. Childs play really. Nobody can enter through the void,
leaving it as a cut off segment stringed to the world with mere words. For
another safety measure, you place two key-locks in the doors knob and
contemplate the placement of the keys for later as you lay them on your bed.
With the barrier sealing the insides, you ask for your magic-studies bookcase,
realm-watcher, and your multiverse computer setup. Hooking it up is the real
issue, but afterwards it makes a reasonable area to further study magic.
Atleast, foreign magic. With permission, of course. Disconnecting the SAVE from
your phone-strap, you leave it behind in the sealed room, exiting and
enchanting the door. Four locks too much? Psh.
“Oh its already lookin’ better!!” she squeaks, looking around at the cleaned
space.
“Alright, got any wood buffer, coating glaze, wax? What am I doing here?” you
list off, trying to decide how to slick the mistreated wood.
“Girl you are SO demanding. Where am I supposed to find any made for wood? We
don’t have wood floors here.” she argues, scoffing at your mistake.
“Can you blame me for forgetting? I have visited once in 139 rounds, and who
the hell knows how much time has gone by? Not me – I was swimming around in the
fucking ‘between’ or the ‘void’ as they call it here.” you grumble, locating a
set of companion rugs that suit the room nicely and cover the unshined floor.
“The void? Well I suppose it suits more then ‘the between’, but that’s
TECHNICALLY what it is……right?” she asks, unaware of it herself. Only you,
Baysoph and Zebbulon have the ability to safely wander the ‘between’. The last
cocky bastard vanished for 20 years, came back spewing riddles in a foreign
language he’d alienated for himself for a sense of sanity.
“Now who’s the unknowledged?” you chuckle, setting the bed into proper place,
placing a dresser between the windows with a black set of curtains.
“I don’t see it as unknowledged, more along the lines of ‘I want nothing to do
with it’?” she corrects, both of you cackling at the simple hatred. “Less void
talk, more info talk. How do they know about the void?” she presses, eyes
filled with a want indescribable.
“Someone here can access it through rifts, or as he says ‘shortcuts’. He seems
to be the only issue to them finding out my identity.” you grumble, fixing the
bedsheets and plugging in your laptop before hitting the real problem : the
bathroom. The dish-soap had blended well in the hot water, and taking a razor,
you begin to chisel away the pink mess.
“God that looks like a pink nightmare. Like pink vomit nightmare. ANYWAYS! So
someone there can roam the ‘in between’ as well?! You don’t understand how
incredibly vital that is.” she urges, and you groan waving the razor about to
mimic her babble.
“Yes yes I understand, it’s a dying practice because of all the risks,
insecurities, and insanity. But you wouldn’t understand the peace of it if I
showed you, so why bother explaining? Anyway, its not a mage who can access it
; it’s a monster.”
“WHAT?! That’s AWESOME!! You should totally fuck him!” she demands, throwing
you off.
“What the HELL Mir!?” you bite, looking to her in sheer raged embarrassment.
“I don’t mean it like the others, but do you have ANY idea the magic fluctuates
monsters have, and on top of that HE can access the ‘in between’? I know you
like freaky men, so this is LITERALLY perfect!!” she explains, not helping the
blood rushing your face. Ignoring all thoughts, you proceed to scrape the paint
away.
“Mir, he’s a fucking magical skeleton.” you snap, grinding away. She audibly
gasps and falls silent, scaring you that the line has been called as you look
to the holographic screen. Her eyes are huge, her smile pinching her cheeks
against her sneering eyes.
“Hey. You could totally-“
“If you finish that fucking sentence I will NOT forgive you.” you growl, the
silence continuing before you proceed at the task at hand.
“…………bone him.” she jokes, falling back into a disorderly fit of giggles and
wheezes, contemplating the possibilities. You groan and jerk the phone from its
floatation.
“Goodbye Mir.” you snap, turning off the phone and rubbing at the temples in
frustration. Fiddling about with the musical options, you finally settle for
remixes and originals, spending another two hours chiseling away.
Backing up to review the work, everything still has a slight pink tint to its
once pristine white and ivory reflection, but with time and thorough cleaning,
it could get fixed. Stepping free from the lavatory, you take in your dirtied
clothes and begin rummaging through your dresser for cleaner attire. Abandoning
the tattered clothes, you pick out a black tank with a broken heart symbol
across the back, fitting a loose see-through sweater overtop for some cold
protection. Pulling on clean underwear in the process, you disrobe the booty
shorts for frayed jeans, fitting into comfortable combat boots before plugging
headphones into your phone and strolling out to the downstairs.
Pocketing through the cupboards, you find a little bag of chips for a snack,
and while happily pillaging, you find a board of work dates and times. It
appeared that Papyrus and Undyne both got out the soonest, and that was an hour
after Frisks school time was up, so it gave you plenty of time to bring him
home. Everyone else seemed to be home within the next hour. While watching the
time, you pondered as to the jobs everyone had. Undyne probably did something
involving physical strength, and Alphys something scientific. Toriel worked at
the school as a teacher, and considering how important the king was and his
formal suit, Asgore probably landed an executive career of sorts that paid
well. The brothers were confusing, but also predictable. Sans probably had a
simple job, while Papyrus being so enthusiastic worked with people.
Speculations aside, you could just ask later on.
Flipping through the TV, the news cast don’t seem much for smiles. Any pleasing
stories are around the world, and something about a ‘Marvelous Debut Coming
from MTT to You!’ but it sounded high-end, and you switched to the actual
weather. Rain. Fan-fucking-tastic.
Groaning and standing, it was time to get pick-up Frisk. Asgore had left a key
to the house behind but had insisted if it wasn’t there when you were he’d be
apprehensive. Jingling the key into your pocket, you nab a large umbrella from
storage before you hit the town.
Checking the tracking watch, you had another hour before having to pick Frisk
up from school, so you head to the education building and scope out the scene.
Of course the walk is half an hour long and with the blasted traffic it takes
another ten minutes. Finally reaching the building, a thin trickle of human and
monster students appear from the kindergarten. Keeping a keen eye, all of the
monster children are escorted out in family cars, while the rest get on a bus.
Children might not be as aggressive as adults, but they don’t understand
everything.
A monster child flies out the door, no arms and a little backpack chomped in
their teeth, and they instantly face-plant the sidewalk before you can react.
Reaching out to the child, a group of young bystanders passes by, hysterics as
the point at the poor armless kid. Stepping before the kid, you stare harshly
at the children, a stern piercing stare that has them quaking in their odd
rain-boots. Fleeing the scene to scramble onto a bus, you help lift the yellow
kid to his stumbling feet. You pick up his backpack, tapping the dirt off it
and offering it back.
“Wow! Thanks!” he beams, chomping down on the bag before giving a hard nod of
approval, running off into a friends car as they drive away. The rain starts to
come down, so you pull free your umbrella and prepare for the downpour. Another
five minutes of waiting pass before Frisk in a little raincoat and rain-boots
comes out, happily splashing in the puddles. You give a distinctive whistle,
and they whirl around with excitement before running over.
“Hey kiddo. Nice little water-proof suit! Looking snazzy.” you compliment,
admiring the deep yet bright red coat and boot set that suited him, ruffling
the water from his hair as he pulls over his hood.
‘You came to pick me up?’ he signs, hopping delicately into a forming puddle,
admiring the splash radius.
“Yes sir. I am your escort Rea. I will be seeing you home. Now c’mon. No
Flowey?” you ask, the child gladly taking your hand as you begin the trek back,
only dropping it to momentarily sign.
‘Mom gave him detention.’ he frowns, a tiny squeeze in his little fingers.
“Ouch. I didn’t know Toriel could drop the hammer.” you ponder, Frisk looking
concerned suddenly. You catch it, fixing your mistake “It’s a figure of speech!
You know she wouldn’t do that. Its Toriel!” you nudge, careful of the cars
splashing the sidewalks.
‘She gets very mad at him because of who he is and what he was…’
“What does that mean?” you ask, but Frisk shakes their head in disapproval.
‘I promised not to say.’ he signs, and you give a accepting shrug of the
shoulders. It wouldn’t stay a secret forever likely. Frisk breaks the following
silence by giving your arm a tug. With his knowledged guidance, he leads you
into a bakery that can only be described as loli-convention. The owner is a
sweet looking spider, lilac skin with black thin hair pulled back. She wears a
chichi maid uniform very frilly and petite to match the store. Frisk heads to
the counter, shaking off the wet coat and taps excitedly, you warily continue
forward, reading the customers who don’t seem judgemental. A silky voice emits
from the counter, the spider drawing near.
“Ahuhuhuuhuhu! Hello Frisk dearie. How are you?” she charms, stretching extra
limbs over the counter to cup preciously at his face. Frisk pats the counter
wildly, a grin growing despite the pinches. You clear your throat after
returning to his side, the spider monster halting her pinching to scan you over
before coming around the register.
“Who might you be sweetie?” she asks, doing a shark circle around you, eyeing
down your petite physique.
“Ah, I’m Rea. Monster bodyguard.” you extend a hand and are meted with three.
To say it isn’t terrifying how she spindles her arms freely through the air
each with a different objective would be an understatement. However, there have
been much worse encounters with giant spiders, and they didn’t talk.
“Bodyguard? Dearie you would be much more adorable in one of my work uniforms!”
she coos, lifting your arms and mentally taking in your measurements. She
seemed a lot like Mirage except…grabbier. Protesting by pulling away with a
hand, you give a disapproving wave.
“Ah, thanks but no thanks. I’m not built for frilly stuff. I-We stopped by
to……why did we stop by?” you whisper to Frisk, Frisk hopping with joy as they
fumble with their backpack, pulling free a gift-card for two free spider
donuts.
“Ah! Ahuhuhuu~ Thank you Frisk deary! I’ll go fetch your donuts.” she squeals,
taking the gift-card and rushing to the back. You look down at the child who is
patiently waiting, fighting the urge to playfully ring the bell.
“I hope your saving the other one for someone at home.” you suggest, not
wanting to be bribed by a free pastry. Frisk denies it as the spider comes back
with a little baggy.
“Here you go Frisk. Ah, I forgot to introduce myself! Ahuhuhuhu~ I am Muffet,
the owner of Silk Sweets.” she mottos, tapping the spider crawling over a
croissant logo. Its peculiar but something you can get behind in an odd way.
“Are these for here or to go dearies?” she asks, handing the bag to you as you
peer inside to admire the purple coated pastries, with a white drizzle
resembling web. Maybe you could be bribed.
‘Here! Oh please!’ Frisk begs, pointing to the thick pelting of rain coming
down now. Checking your tracking watch there is time to spare, and telling the
others of the reasons you were late, they obviously wouldn’t be too bothered,
right? The worst could be that you let Frisk eat sweets before dinner. Giving
into temptation and a dry environment, you and Frisk happily take a booth by
the windows to chow down.
You could totally be bribed with these donuts. They have a unique fluff to
them, and whatever Muffet used as a drizzle? Genius. You greedily finish the
donut, Frisk starting mindless chit-chat about how your day had been, what did
you do home alone, how they liked your sweater. Overall this seemed nothing
more then a pit-stop to slow the upcoming ramble of ‘do your homework’. But
hey, homework sucked, and it wasn’t your specific job to make sure he finished
it. Glancing at your watch, you bite down a curse as in fifteen minutes people
would be getting home. Picking up the umbrella and ushering Frisk back out,
you’re both met with the unrelenting downpour as you give a kind wave back to
Muffet, leaving behind Frisks backpack.
Coming to a busy intersection, a car pulls to the side by the crosswalk as you
press the lane button. Waiting patiently for the switch, Frisk huddles to you
for more warmth, the cold brisk rain pelting the umbrella. Impatient, you jab
the button again, waiting for the light to switch, giving you time to take in
the suspicious vehicle. Black pick-up, general license-plate with a broken
heart on both sides of the plate. The symbol looked familiar, but Frisk was
tugging at your sweater because the crosswalk was available. Accepting back the
tiny hand and making it to the crosswalk, the pick-up roars its engine, flying
towards you both. For a brief second, you glimpse past the tinted windows and
catch a familiar face : the bastard whos arm you broke yesterday was once again
playing in the passenger seat. The anti-monster gang.
Without a hesitation, you threw the umbrella, whisking Frisk off the slippery
road into your arms, face buried into your sweater. Propelling forward with a
slight punch of magic to your feet, you barrel out of the way of the pickup,
stuck in the middle of a busy intersection as you scramble to your feet and
clutching Frisk close. Running to the sidewalk for safer ground you’re met with
the ground yourself, a hidden raincoat cloaked person bashing you over the head
with a bat. Frisk tumbles from your grasp, the cloaked individual grasping your
vulnerable position, locking your arms behind your back with a harsh pull, knee
wedging into your spine.
“Where the hell you think you’re going? You deserve five times the punishment
you dished out yesterday night. That was a big mistake.” they press, driving
their boney knee into your spine harder. Another pair of footsteps approaches,
Frisk backing away in fear. The cock of a gun nearby signals a retreat.
Carefully surging magic through your veins, into your legs, you arch your back
to tumble the foe behind forward. Painfully, you drive your head back in unison
with the attackers, clocking him in the forehead as his grip loosens at your
sweater by the wrists. Taking this opportunity, you thrust backwards, the
sweater slipping off easily as you forge forward, cupping Frisk into your grasp
and pummeling turf instantly. Frisk clutches desperately at your tank as you
cut through a park where the vehicle cant follow, diving straight into the
woods regardless of direction other then ‘away’. Fighting them all without
magic, not horrifically hurting them, andhaving to keep a careful eye on Frisk
wasn’t a good combination; the dense rainfall and slippery terrain also
fighting against you.
Running through the forest, you keep a steady pace, ragged breathing fogging
the chilling air as the trees do little to cease the cold pellets hitting your
bare skin. Thick brush and branches scrape at you as you continue to bound
through the forest until you need a moment to catch your breath, setting Frisk
down as with the heavy breathing, you survey for clearance.
“Yo-huh g-good Frisk?” you gasp, clutching your chest and forcing a slower
breathing to ease the jumping heart within. Frisk nods quickly, clutching your
shoulders to assist with stopping the burdened heaves for air. His warm fingers
are incongruous against your frozen skin, but the touch is welcoming as you
pull them closer for safety and kindling. Taking the chance, you peer around to
gain a better sense of boundaries. But there is nothing. Well, not specifically
nothing ; just absolutely nothing familiar – trees, trees and more dense forest
cast as far as your eyes can see off. You hadn’t paid well enough attention to
how deep you’d run, and now was lost in a massive forest.
“Ahhh crimony.” you groan, ruffling your drenched hair and doing a complete
circle gaze to the same scenery, plopping aggressively onto a raised root to
curse under your breath. Some bodyguard – you were possibly putting him in more
peril just being around. Hoping maybe the child has his likely tracked
cellphone, your broken to realize it was left behind. Another stupid problem :
your tracker slipped off with your sweater, so they had no way of finding you.
“Im sorry Frisk. I was so focused I didn’t…I have no idea where we are.” you
admit, rubbing at your face with frustration as Frisk sits beside you, trying
to comfort and soothe your anger. It takes a few minutes to pull yourself back
into reasonable thinking, the rainfall constantly beating down through the
dense foliage.
‘We are in the forest below the mountain. We need to head that way.’ Frisk
directs, you taking the kids directional advice that is likely better then your
own, heaving him up for a piggy-back ride, trudging cautiously but quickly
through the muddy forest terrain.
“Im going to get you home little boss. Soon as I do, I’m hunting down those
jerks who think they can mess with us. Sending ‘em all straight to the damn
hospital.” you growl, stepping lightly as the world around begins to fade into
darkness. As it settles, it becomes increasingly hard to see and you know
you’re going to be so late delivering this kid. A thought occurs to you. You
dig into your pocket, retrieving your multiverse cellphone.
“Quick, what’s Asgore or the houses number?” you ask Frisk, who quickly signs
Asgores cellphone number as you punch it in, using the installed flashlight to
assist with sight. The line picks up on the start of the second ring.
“WHERE IS FRISK!?” bellows the king, the scream loud enough to resonate an echo
through the forest, instantly regretting leaving the speaker so close to your
ear.
“There was a sl-“ you try to explain, but Asgore doesn’t back down.
“If ANYTHING has happened to him, I don’t care what happens to me, but I will
see you in the GROUND. I never should have trusted you!!” he barks, Frisk
looking fearful of the foaming animosity coming from his father figure. You can
hear background chatter, but Toriels cries and yells echo the hardest.
“A-Asgore chill f-“
“You are a TRAITOR. I genuinely was beginning to TRUSTyou, and this is what I
get?! You-YOU-“ the speed and ferocity he is barking at you with is enough to
make you assume he has gone feral. You turn to Frisk quickly and gesture to
plug their ears, but that already are, burying their frightened face into your
soaked mane. You take a commanding voice, echoing through the forest like a
god.
“ASGORE!!” you howl, taking the sobbing silence that you got through to the
idiot. That, or he hung up ; you still spoke.
“Frisk is fine. I REPEAT. Frisk is perfectly fine. Get that through your fuzzy
crowned head and breathe.” you stress, Frisk making claps and other sounds to
try and reassure the other line as well. A shaky moment passes before a weak
submissive voice quakes through.
“Where is he.” he pleads, the sound alone making you think the poor royal is on
his knees begging for his life. It pains you, but there isn’t much else to be
done.
“Those guys that walloped me with a can yesterday night hit again. Except they
tried to hit us with a car. Knocked me in the head with a bat, I heard a gun,
and I just took off running. We are in the forest somewhere, I don’t have exact
coordinates and I don’t know how long we have been out here. I’m bringing him
home, my tracker got yanked off back where we were jumped. I think Frisks bag
is at Muffets – we got some donuts before it happened.” you report, hiking up
Frisk carefully from slipping off. Groans and sobs filter through as Frisk
continues to clap and make varying sounds, likely how he converses over a phone
call.
“C-Can you h-hand Frisk the phone?” he pleads again, choking a sob.
“He’s been able to hear everything you fuzzy lug. He’s clapping and making
sounds the whole time, but the rain must be too strong. Frisk, you know how to
whistle or something?” you suggest, Frisk whistling a little tune that has
Asgore and Toriel weeping.
“W-When will you both get b-back?” he mutters, huffing silently to calm tears.
“I’m not sure how long it will take, but I swear to you he will come
home……I’m……I’m going to bounce. Get out of your hair. After all that’s
happened, I don’t blame you for wanting to rip my damn guts out. I-……I know
when i’m not wanted.” you conclude, Frisk giving denying smacks at your
shoulders as screams and confusion surge through the phone.
“N-N-No Rea, that’s not-“
“No it is. I have caused nothing but crud ever since I arrived, and for what?
What do I even hope to accomplish?! I don’t even bloody know. I’ll drop off
Frisk, beat the living hell out of those punks, pack my stuff, and disappear.
My existence is a shadow; always shifting and moving, but easily breakable and
ignored… I’ll put in a good report, that’ll get them off your backs. You can be
happy! That’s good, so break out the wine or something fuzzball!” you force a
smile and enthusiasm, though the situation is nothing but grim. You intercept
anything they try to say.
“I’m hanging up now and focusing on not tripping on roots. Goodbye.” you
finish, shutting off the phone and turning off the ringer and vibrations,
abandoning it once again in your pocket. Frisk gives a light smack to the back
of your head, gaining your attention as he signs.
‘Please don’t go! It’s only the first day and you have saved my dad and me!
You’re doing a great job! Its not your fault, he will understand!’ Frisk
argues, clear tears spilling onto his cheeks underneath his coat. A lightning
strike smashes the rains silence, scaring both of you. Lightning definitely was
one of your top fears, but having Frisk cowering on your back fills you with a
strength indescribable as you pull them to the side. Planting their feet on the
ground, you look at the innocent child who clings to you for comfort before
crouching down with a genuine smile and glint of remembrance in your eyes.
“Frisk……remember when I told you I was a witch?” you recall, rubbing his
shaking arms soothingly as the coverage in this area is the best, with only
minor droplets breaking against the earth. Frisk gives a confused nod as you
settle beside them.
“Well Frisk, that is really true. I am a witch. I know how you were having
rough times in the underground, with Flowey and Chara? Sans and Mr. Goop?
Killing and begging for forgiveness. That’s why I confronted you this morning,
hoping you would open up to me. I can understand you well Frisk, but I want you
to talk to someone about these fears, alright? Please – for me. Say something
is better then a dark silence.“ you beg, Frisk giving a distressed look before
sniffling and agreeing.
“Now Frisk, I’m going to show you my magic trick. It’s a secret one, and you
have to pinky promise not to tell anyone. Not a soul – monster or human.” you
tell, extending a pinky. He hesitates for a moment, but with a glint of
fearlessness, he interlocks with your pinky and looks bewildered.
“Alright…watch this.” you soothe, concealing your face with your hair as your
magic bursts in your eyes, hands glowing a dark purple ; almost black as you
cup them together. Channeling your happiness into little balls of light, you
free your grasp to let a vast array of lights float freely through the darkened
forest. Frisk perks up immediately, trying to catch the lights like a bug. His
eyes are filled with wonder, sheer amazement, as you take advantage of the weak
moment. Slipping behind the child, you parallel your hands besides his head,
reaching for his conscious.
“dormisue” you whisper, slipping Frisk into a light sleep as you heft him up
into your arms. Kids bedtime was coming soon and you didn’t want him catching a
cold. Stepping into a tear, you scurry to an opening that’s already been made
before the front door, quietly stepping through. Setting Frisk down against the
door frame, you plant a farewell kiss on the cheek before rapidly knocking at
the door and slipping back into the void, seaming the entrance.
With a clear overview of the city you scour in the pause of time, hunting the
previous predators as pray. Locating the group is fairly easy, smoking and
laughing outside a club, truck and everything. Jumping through a rift in an
alley, you stroll behind the group, clearing your throat purposefully for an up
close fight. All their dead gazes turn into utter shock, taking in your body.
Ripped and bloody, a sleek magic radiating off you as you force flex your arms
and fingers in anticipation, upholding your promise to Asgore ‘til the very
end.
“Lets get this the fuck over with.” you spit, charging into a mess of knives,
guns and bats with nothing but fists and crafty magic. The growing fever taking
hold in your brain is fueled by the raging emotional fire while drenched with
the downpour and freezing wind.
This was going to be a pain in the ass.
 ----------------------------------------------------
Frisk rouses from the light touch on the cheek, and is standing up as Toriel
flings the door open enough to possibly unhinge. The motherly monsters fur is
dewed with fresh and old tears, more welling into her eyes as she finally
sights her lost child, briskly pulling them into a comforting embrace.
“Frisk! Oh my child, you are to never scare us so! Ever again!!” she weeps,
carrying the child inside while holding the dazed kids head. She takes a glance
around, not able to locate you, her soul wavering in a heavy manner but carries
Frisk to the others nonetheless.
“Oh god Frisk!” Asgore follows, joining in the hug as he nuzzles his bearded
cheek into the slightly damp hair. Frisk avoided the majority of the downpour
thanks to the rain equipment, much to Toriels delight.
“FRISK!!” cries Papyrus, the rest of his dear monster friends gathering to
share in the hug, after much complaining and confirmation, they let him breathe
and remove his jacket.
“My child, what happened to you? Where’s-……where’s R-Rea? How did you get here
so quickly?” Toriel begs, stroking his cheek as Sans prepares a cup of hot
chocolate, everyone migrating to the kitchen. Frisks confused face led to the
clock, reading back that it was only a few minutes after the phone call to
Asgore. Returning to everyone, he begins to sign away.
‘I don’t know. We walked home but stopped to get donuts at Muffets. Then we
left and these men in a truck tried to hit us. Rea was so cool – she did a
barrel roll and we ran but someone hit her. These other guys got out of the
truck with big guns, but Rea broke a guys nose and we took off running again! I
don’t know how long we were running, but we ended up in the forest below Ebott.
We were really lost, so we just started walking in a direction. Then we
called……and everyone got really mad at her, but she was doing her job! She
protected me, please don’t be mad at her dad, please!!’ he begs, tugging
desperately at Asgores sleeve as he still processes the information. He gives a
heavy sigh and strokes Frisks head, a pained smile poking at his beard.
“Im sorry you had to hear me yelling, Frisk. I couldn’t bear to think that I’d
lost another child to a stranger I thought I could trust. I was……angry, too
angry to consider anything else, and I took it out on her. She was doing her
job, and it is my fault for judging quickly. I was…..I was horribly wrong.” he
concedes, a reel of the hatred he used over the phone was but a pinch of what
his seething frame quaked : his energy and magic were on the brink of boiling
over.
 Papyrus and Undyne had tracked the tracking watch and Frisks backpack, gotten
the information from Muffet and immediately called Asgore. Alphys was the last
to make it home, directly into the fray of screaming and questions. Sans and
Papyrus were listing possibilities, Toriel sob ranting about why he had to
track you instead of just getting your phone number. Sans cant risk teleporting
to find him, and the heavy rainfall has been given news alerts to stay off the
streets. Asgore assumes the worst, and is on the verge of telling everyone the
truth, but an unfamiliar caller rings his cell, and looking to it for answers,
there lays a picture of you : the caller.
“BUT…BUT REA? IS SHE NOT COMING BACK? I THOUGHT THIS WAS HER NEW HOME!” Papyrus
questions, Sans taking his brothers shoulder in silent consolation.
“Yeah! Where the heck is that idiot? What happened after the call?!” Undyne
demands aggressively, Alphys stroking her hand to try and ease her fiery
temper.
‘After we called she told me I needed to talk to you about things that have
been bothering me for a while……I-I didn’t want to say anything about it before
because nobody would understand but, she told me it was better to “say
something rather than stay in dark silence”. I told her I would, and then…’ he
recalls, trying to remember everything.
“no need to be bashful kiddo. we cant understand if you don’t speak up.” Sans
nudges his shoulder, an encouraging grin of anticipation stretched eagerly
across his face.
‘She showed me fireflies.’  he signs, a pleasant pursed smile spreads over his
cheeks.
“F-Fireflies?” Alphys asks to which Frisk nods. “In t-this weather?”
‘It was her magic trick! She made fireflies! But she told me I wasn’t supposed
to tell……am I going to lose my pinky?’ he asks, concern wriggling at the smile.
“No sweetheart. How did she make them?” Toriel questions, lovingly patting
Frisks hand as he settles into her lap.
‘I told you, it was her magic trick! There was nothing and then they were
everywhere!’ he enthuses, sprinkling his fingers around in a visualizing
attempt. Everyone looks puzzled, Asgore pretending to be ignorant.
“So how did you get home?” He chimes, trying to pinch off the uncomfortable
subject.
‘I don’t know. I saw the lights and the next thing I knew I was home.’ he
finishes giving an unsure shrug.
“Well, do you know where that idiot went?” Undyne growls trying to contain her
excited rage. Frisk gives a toothy smile, turning to Sans happily.
‘To go dunk those jerks.’ Frisk beams, Sans etching a proud grin into his
features.
“I hope she is alright. Its getting late and this rain isn’t supposed to let up
until tomorrow evening.” Toriel sighs, moving about to make a quick dinner ; so
preoccupied with Frisks safety she hadn’t had a chance to cook.
“She’ll be fine.” Asgore soughs stepping from the kitchen to sit quietly in the
living room. Everyone stands about, unsure of how to proceed, but Toriel
pitches in suggesting spaghetti for dinner, Undyne and Papyrus having an
immediate mood swing as they assist in the creation of the noodled dish often
served. Alphys and Sans try to pry more minor details out of Frisks memory,
eventually getting the license plate number on the truck and calling the police
about the problem. They took it more seriously considering it was the Monster
Ambassador whos life was just on the line, vowing to hunt them down.
After the call, Toriel and Undyne serve up spaghetti, a light-hearted wave of
relief washing over the family as they ate and joked. However, Asgore does not
share in this, shadowed with regret in the living room, contemplating exactly
what to say upon your return to retrieve anything you had supposedly unpacked.
Everyone pretends to ignore it, but his sullen mood drifts through the air
contaminating the house.
“What are you freaking out about her for? You never behaved like this with any
of the other guards.” Undyne steps in, handing the lonely king a plate of
spaghetti. He tries to force a smile but it glared down into a form of
submission.
“She’s different. I have my reasons for not trusting her and I don’t want to
burden and of you with this……fear.” he admits while thankfully eating the
spaghetti – Papyrus’ skills were improving.
“That’s what family and friends are for, right!? You don’t need to keep this
locked up! Didn’t Frisk admit that he was going to tell us what was up? If the
kid can handle it, so can you!” retaliates Undyne as she gives a confident
smile at the unsure gaze he returns. “Don’t go chickening out! C’mon.” she
offers a hand. With brief hesitation, he takes it and is led into the dining
room where he is met with familiar happy faces. This secret wouldn’t last a
day.
“E-Everyone, I have some…disturbing news to tell you all. I’m sorry I haven’t
told you sooner, I presumed I was doing the right thing by keeping it secret
but it has caused nothing but problems…” he confesses, settling his plate but
not himself as he stands before the gathered and seated family. “It is about
Rea.”
“heh of course it is. it was easy to see something was up with how you reacted
around her.” Sans grumbles, knowing all along and awaiting this conversation.
“I agree. What is it, Asgore?” Toriel hums, coaxing a sense of relaxation
through him.
“WAIT. DOES SHE WANT US KNOWING THIS? I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, DON’T WANT TO GO
BEHIND HER BACK KNOWING THINGS I SHOULDN’T..” Papyrus booms as Undyne tries to
shush to a more indoor voice.
“No. No she would have told you ; it was my idea to keep it a secret.” he
corrects, calming the table before delivering the news.
“Rea is a direct ancestor of Ovine.” he states, waiting for the baffled shocks.
Toriel stands and gasps clutching her face. Everyone else seems terribly
confused, unaware to the name as they had not been born during the war.
“Tori – Tori shhh.” Asgore tries to soothe his trembling wife who cant help
raising her voice.
“You let hercare for FRISK?!” she cries, suddenly aware of the mass danger
Frisk could have experienced. Frisk is alarmed, trying to ask ‘whats wrong?’ as
Asgore holds Toriel close, raking a shaky claw down her fur.
“uhh. kinda in the dark here. who is ovine?” Sans speaks up, the name alone
sending Toriel into stressful weeps.
“PLEASE YOUR MAJESTY, DON’T CRY!! I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT THEIR ANCESTOR HAS
DONE, BUT REA IS NOT BAD, RIGHT?” Papyrus glistens sending a positive smile
that is slowly etched into a still frown as Asgore denies a reply while
soothing the frightful queen. Frisk cant hold still any longer, scurrying into
Toriels lap as she squeezes them close. Once Toriel calms with Frisk close to
home, Asgore returns to the confessional.
“Ovine was one of the human mages back during the war. A sorrowed man how
equaled his strength to mine in our day long battles.” he continues, the entire
rest of the room finally uproaring in realization.
“W-W-W-WH-wha-what-t-t?!”
“WHATTHEFUCKASGOREWHATWHYDIDNT-“
“you…you cant be-cant be serious…”
“T-THE MAGE FAMILY?!”
Everyones complaints and questions erupt at once, Asgore slamming the table to
a instant silence, trembling at the trouble he has caused.
“Please. Let me finish.” he begs, gaining the intense attention of his friends
before breathing steady.
“Ovine was the nicer of the mages, but also brimming with power. He could have
bested me in the blink of an eye, yet he equaled to my own to test my strength,
my desperation……what I was willing to risk. I fought that man for five days and
nights straight. On the fifth day, he tried to reason with me : begging for
peace, trying to conjure a treaty, desperate for an end to the endless death.
As we all know, that didn’t happen : however, that man was the strongest, able
solely to erect a similar barrier to the one we were trapped behind for all
those decades…” he whispers as the pained anger flows through his form. He
breathes again, calming himself.
“But he didn’t. He refused to assist in the sealing. Then, yesterday at the
picnic, I met her.” he sighs, glancing to Sans who seems startled at the
directed attention.
“She isn’t from this world Sans. Not from this…time. Apparently the mages have
set-up a time interval in a space between a world and the void. She might
appear as a young adult, but she is over 100.” he tells, Sans and Alphys both
sharing a aghast glance, Sans’ skull threatening to pop.
“S-S-She c-c-can j-just…w-wander?” Alphys asks, trying to clarify this breaking
news.
“Yes. She has refined the magic of her ancestors and was given the task to
travel through different dimensions, universes, times, whatever. She resets
seals – patching and renewing them…But also able to create any that were
broken.” he murmurs.
“Are you saying she can just put us back Underground when she pleases?!!?”
Undyne screams, slamming a fist to the table and wielding a spear suddenly.
“…………Yes.” he admits, rubbing his exhausted face, scrunched with unpleasant
faces.
“Like HELL she will!!”
“Undyne, its not a matter of whether you approve or not. She could take all of
us on alone and probably come out victorious, seal us in, and go off on her
merry way!” Asgore bites back, letting the reality of their situation plummet
like a rock-slide.
“……So…So this is it? A-After everything?” Toriel whispers, scratching the
stinging tears from her eyes.
“SHE-REA-…SHE WOULDN’T DO THAT TO US YOUR MAJESTY……SHE…She wouldn’t.” Papyrus
defends, though he shares in the realizing horror that all their happiness
could so easily be stripped away.
“She is on orders Papyrus : Watch over us and decide for herself……However, I…I
have a spark of hope.” he admits, the entire table looking to him as if his
brain just ran away.
“oh please. dotell. from all you just admitted, it seems pretty hopeful.” Sans
grunts, throwing his bony hands from his pocket into the air to emphasize a
‘we’re fucked’ attitude.
“She doesn’t wantto seal us away. She has apparently witnessed the memories of
the past, agreeing with her ancestor that the humans are guilty. From what I
know, they could have sent someone far less understanding and forgiving. The
‘council’ of mages is more in charge then she is, and the majority of them
supposedly need to decide what is to be done with us. I was ensured that she
had allies on the inside who would stop the decision, but she cannot promise
anything. Until then, she took a knights oath to obey any command I gave.” he
finishes as he rubs his neck that’s coiling with stress.
“What the hell is a knights oath to them?!” Undyne flails about ; unlike a fish
and more as a drunken brute.
“If I didn’t trust her yesterday she offered her head, thus ceasing the
preserved bloodline of her magic. That’s extremely important to humans, even
more so mages : passing on ones abilities to the next generation.” he bites
back, moving from despising to defending you.
“S-So w-w-what are w-we supposed t-to do?” Alphys questions, Sans agreeing.
Frisk also peers towards the table of tension.
“Go about the normal days?” he suggests, Undyne scoffing at the kings
stupidity.
“You’re joking.”
“Afraid not. This is out of our reach. Fighting a skilled mage is out of the
question for all of you, and even if we……even if we killed her…there are more,
less forgiving and equally as powerful mages who can also likely access the
voids entirety. It would be foolish to attempt anything, so we are simply at
her mercy………I’m sorry.” he drowns, finally sitting down and sighing at the load
off his shoulders. Yet, everyone else is now equally hindered.
With a few minutes of silent deep thought, Undyne is the first to break it.
“Im going to bed. We can talk more about this in the morning, after five or
seven cups of coffee. C’mon Alph.” she urges, Alphys agreeing immediately as
she gives everyone a silent wave goodbye.
“I-I think it is best you get some rest too, Frisk.” Toriel caves, Frisk also
not fighting in retaliation as Toriel carries him to sleep. Sans and Papyrus
hang around with Asgore, waiting for assured silence before speaking up.
“asgore. do you need me to do anything?” Sans proposes. Asgore gives a heavy
sigh, shielding his eyes from the light as he gazes at his palms.
“Not much can be done besides keeping an eye on her, but I know you’ve likely
already been doing that.” he admits, a stifling chuckle as he predicts the
truth. Sans doesn’t deny or agree, merely giving a shrug of the shoulders and
standing up.
“got eyesockets everywhere after all. can up the surveillance if you need.”
“I WILL HELP WATCH REA!” Papyrus whispers as only Papyrus knows how : loudly
with ending by saying ‘whisper’ as a whisper is meant to be said.
“i don’t want you getting involved paps.”
“ALL OF US ARE INVOLVED SANS. I TRUST REA ; SHE HAS BEEN NOTHING BUT NICE.” he
retorts. Sans acknowledges that once Papyrus has set his mind to something he
is set for life ; nothing he could say would sway his brothers judgement.
Giving a sigh, a rubs his brothers skull affectionately.
“you’re too good for this world bro. noone knows what to do with all that cool
kindness.” he compliments, admiration sparkles forming in Papyrus’ smaller set
of sockets as he tears up slightly.
The peace is broken with a jingling of the doorknob. Everyone falls still,
listening and waiting. Another jingle and the unlocking of the front door
occurs before the three pile into the living room.
You just are closing the door as you face-plant onto the stairs, groaning
quietly in response but remaining frozen. Your head feels on the verge of
splitting open, a shocking freeze overtaking your sense as you shudder for a
blanket. Wincing as you cuddle your arms inwards, you take in the mass of
bruises and small cuts left behind from the brawl. Victorious nonetheless, you
barely dodged bullets. The tapping of foot steps approaching urge you to make
an effort to try and not look dead on the stairs, but your limbs are numbed
thoroughly.
“Rea?” comes a familiar fatherly groan, as you merely lift a hand to wave a
feeble hello.
“OH GRACIOUS! REA, ARE YOU OUT OF MAGIC? ARE YOU ILL? SHALL I, THE GREAT
PAPYRUS, HEAL YOUR WOUNDS, OR ARE YOU SKILLED IN THAT TOO?!” Papyrus beams,
shocking you from the numbness as you give a hazy glare at Asgore. Your face
feels as though it’d been dipped in lava, and it must be as red as a lobster as
Asgore merely stares back, offering a paw.
“You look wretched.” he compliments, you accepting the gesture and steadying to
lean against the wall.
“C-C-Coul-ldn-n’t h-hold a s-sec-c-cret-t f-foorr-r-r o-one d-daaay?” you
stutter, teeth chattering violently as you shove the frozen fingertips in your
underarms for any resuscitation.
“heh smalls. you’re lookin’ very chilled to the bone.” Sans humors, Papyrus
giving him nothing but a disapproving glance as he starts to rubs your arms
with blessed gloves. Oh it was phenomenal in comparison to rain.
“I-ce-e-e w-what-t-t-t y-youuuu d-di-did t-ther-re.” you force a wink, sneezing
into your arm harshly and nearly fall forward. Luckily, Papyrus picks your
shaking form up bridal style, hugging you close. Even the metal of his armored
shell is pleasantly warm to your frigid skin.
“SHE FEELS SO COLD YOUR MAJESTY.” Papyrus distresses, trying to shower you in
more warmth as he rubs friction with his gloves.
“I would imagine so. What the blazes were you thinking going out in a tank-top,
through freezing rain, for who knows how long?” Asgore retaliates, waving
frustrated hands into the air as he heads for the care closet. “Im sorry
Papyrus but can you bring her to bedroom? Here’s the key – its on the third
floor.” he directs, Papyrus carefully whisking you away while Sans prioritizes
the keys. Reaching the top of the stairs, Sans opens the door, taking in the
suddenly spotless and furnished room.
“you, uh, work fast.” he whistles, looking at the clean simple yet intricate
room layout. He finds a bookcase filled with history and empty notebooks, but
picks out one labelled “Runs 1-100” and slips it into his jacket as Papyrus
seats you on the bed. Asgore comes up with multiple towels, tightly bundling
your hair into one and rapidly gyrating the others over your skin and clothes.
A gasp from Papyrus scares both of them as he inspects your shivering hands.
“REA! YOUR FINGERS HAVE TURNED INTO LITTLE PRUNES!!” he shrieks, carefully
examining each finger as Asgore groans and tries to silence Papyrus’ loud mouth
from waking the entire house.
“T-That ha-happens when-n we s-stick in w-water to-oo lo-n-ng.” you mutter,
sneezing again as Asgore jams a thermometer in under your tongue.
“Hold it.” he commands, and you comply weakly, head starting to spin. A
confirming beep resonates and Asgore sighs to himself.
“102.3. How bad is that? Frisk had a fever once but his was lower and he’s a
child. Are adults affected differently? I wasn’t even aware magic imbued humans
could get sick… ” He tangents his thoughts out loud. You take and glance over
the thermometer, coughing into your elbow to the obvious concern
“1-102? I-I can d-deal-l w-with t-t-that a-l-lone. 104-4 i-is bad-d-d.” you
instruct, ruffling the towels in your hair to dry your solid ice scalp.
“Need anything?”
“U-Um…f-fever reduc-cer medi-c-cine a-and orang-ge juice.” you kindly list,
Asgore giving a firm pat on the shoulder before whisking away to fetch the
items. You gaze at his gone figure baffled, before turning to Sans.
“A-Any r-rea-son you-ou’re all be-being so n-n-nice to meee?” you slur,
sniffling as Sans pulls a packet of tissues from his pocket, offering them to
you as you humbly accept.
“what, think because of what your ancestors did, we’d give you the cold
shoulder? water you talking about? freeze that thought. cant we just be
thawtful?” Sans jokes, Papyrus grating his teeth aggressively to the humor
onslaught. Asgore walks in with a pill bottle and a glass of orange juice on
the final joke, you immediately turning to his gaze with a fueled heart.
“If I h-have to seal you all away, h-he’s going first.” you mutter, Sans and
Papyrus taking you completely serious, Papyrus flying from the bedside to
cradle his brother close. The once cheerful and excited Papyrus looked to you
with unease, shielding his brother who’s sockets were hollow and smile plastic.
Asgore grumbles, handing the orange juice and two pills over, you graciously
taking the medicine immediately.
“That’s rude. Don’t joke about that.” he demands, talking a authorizing voice
with you like scolding a child.
“Okay. Sorry………so what’s the plan now?” you grumble sipping lightly at the
orange juice.
“Nothing. Same plan as before, just everyone knows now. I still forbid magic
use in this house, or with anyone around. I’m also going to need your cell
number.” he instructs as you sleepily set down the O.J, listing the number back
as he writes it down and you plummet your face into the pillow. Sans sends
Papyrus to his room, sticking behind with Asgore.
“Well, if that’s all, and i’m still stuck here, can I please sleep? Or change
my clothes – in privacy?” you mumble, Asgore and Sans taking the hint and
heading to the door.
“Alright…im sorry about the phone. If you need anything, I’m downstairs.” He
finishes, him and Sans giving a final glance before leaving, shutting the door
behind. You stumble groggily over to the dresser, grabbing clothing and just
focusing on making it back to bed without planting your face to the hardwood 
again. Accepting the gravitational pull once at the bed, you slide free from
the damp apparel, throwing off in wild abandon to slip into the new dry set
before curling up under the blankets, pocket tissues held close.
This was now your life.
Chapter End Notes
     Woo! Flu!
     Whats going to happen now that words out =^=?
     Leave comments plz. They make me strong <3
***** Time to Learn *****
Chapter Summary
     Moving on with that supposed new life.
Chapter Notes
     Holy hell I'm so sorry this took nearly 2 weeks to update O_O" Sorry,
     sorry~
     Atleast its a long chapter.
     I'm trying to pick a preferred route of action for this fic, Sorry.
     ......im just really sorry T_T"
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Your brain is trying to explode from your head, body stuck sweating profusely
underneath heavy bed covers as a hoarse cough runs through you. The inner
throat is clogging with mucus, breathing haggard and heavy trying to relieve
the intense heat coursing through your being. Limbs numb yet trembling,
shuffling beneath the covers for proper positioning. Eyelids are heavy with
morning fatigue and sinus retaliation that has furrowed your brow. They wince
open as a light cold wash cloth is placed over your head, gently pressed and
wiping away the sweat. Fur bristles against your heated skin as your gaze meets
white and purple, familiar amethyst eyes peering down at you with fear and
slight regret. They take notice of your awareness.
“Child, how are you faring? Would you like a drink?” Toriel whispers, running a
separate cloth down your skin to remove the profuse sweating. It isn’t as cold
as the one laid upon your forehead but is blessed in comparison. You give a
pitiful nod as she brings close a cup, tilting your body forward to ease the
waters passage and not drown. To the side is a clear cup of tea, the steam
emanating off giving a familiar waft of honey. She settles you back down
against the pillows before resuming cleaning your arms and neck.
“Do you need anything else child? Soup or blankets? I can fetch more medicine.”
she offers. In the harsh effort to speak a rough cough shakes your being,
splitting your forehead open as you instinctually bring up your elbow to not
spread your infection. Toriel has pulled over a tissue box and offers one as
you attempt to remove the accumulating mucus from your passages. Nothing. In
effort to not waste, you blow your nose lightly a few times before discarding
the disgusting kleenex into a trash can, wary of Toriel.
“M-Meds…a-and soup… pl-e-ease?” you ask. Toriel gives your shoulder a
reassuring pat before rushing away to fetch the items. Gods strike you at your
pitiful predicament. Sick with a blasted flu, trapped in bed being cared for by
supposed royalty. Royalty that held a grudge against your kin – and you. You
feared as the Reaper, Roamer of worlds, had now been reduced to a sick adult
incapable of movement and magic. Quick but heavy footsteps approached as Toriel
came back in balancing a tray of goodies : soup, scones and biscuits, medicine,
and more orange juice and ice water. Pulling over a chair she sets the tray on
a stool before popping open the pill bottle. You don’t hesitate in swallowing
it down with the frigid water. With a concentrative force, you idle upwards to
a more permanent sitting up position despite Toriels opposition. Sticking a
thermometer into your mouth you both wait in awkward silence.
“I……I am sorry about what I said or may think of you. I-I truly believe Asgore
when he said you meant us no harm, but……human mages…have haunted monsters with
their outstanding power, the rumors that spread between us only made things
worse. I had thought no mages could show any form of kindness ; that you were
all wicked and…heartless.” she bites, disappointment in herself ringing clear
in her voice. Her disgust with your kind wasn’t unwarranted or rumored ; the
majority of the mages you knew were assholes through and through – destructive
power that they played with. The thermometer beeps a moment later. Taking a
quick glance before she pulls it free – 101.8 . Ha! Suck that fever! Toriel
shares in slight delight at the reduction before placing the soupy chowder in
your hands. There are noodles and extremely tiny chunks of broccoli floating
within as you take a wary sip – not being one for soup eating. It warms your
mouth, not enough to burn but enough to cause a slight sweat to begin breaking
out. Its bland in consideration for your stomach but the taste isn’t peculiar
as you had believed and you sigh freely in relief.
“However, Frisk told me of everything you did for them ; how kind you were…”
Toriel continues, idly grabbing and munching on a scone for herself. “How you
protected Kid from those awful bullies, how you both had fun at Muffets, your
‘amazing action ready coolness’ ?” She asks, arching an eyebrow as you nearly
choke on a bit of broccoli.
“I-Is that what he’s calling it?” you hoarsely question, your throat clearer
but still gradient.
“He seems set on thinking up something else for it, so currently? Yes……he…he
had nothing but praise and adoration for your efforts against those terrible
humans. Protecting him from them, protection from that terrible rainstorm…yet
all I was thinking of was how you had lied and thrown our child into mortal
danger. Its inexcusable and I am grateful you brought him home and sorry I
misjudged your intentions.” she grieves, trembling hands cupping together
tightly to try and restrain from letting her emotions heighten. Reading her
mood, you set down the bowl and place a sweaty palm over her hands.
“Toriel? You’re a great mother-er figure for F-Frisk. I don’t understand-d the
relations, and I w-won’t pry. It is t-true that what I did was in m-my thoughts
the b-est course of action ; rushing him into the woods to avoid t-the confron-
tation. However, t-there were more ways around i-it, it could-d have been avoi-
oided if I’d been paying-g c-c-closer attention. It could have b-been avoided
if I’d been a r-responsible adult a-and brought Frisk di-directly home. It
could have been avoided if I had listeeened to Sans and ignored that low-rider
w-when I first dropped by. Those m-men were after me, not F-Frisk. If I had
just-……been more aware, more resistant, just…stronger. If I had been, none of
this would h-have had to happen. No……if I hadn’t shown up, none of this would
have happened…” you admit, feeling sick with yourself. Instead of helping these
monsters with the anti-monster humans, you were drawing attention and putting
them in worse danger.
Everything has been your fault.
And Toriel doesn’t mutter a word in defiance, instead cupping your hand between
hers as they continue to tremble.
“Sometimes things need to get worse to get any better. We cannot be certain
that if you hadn’t shown up things would be worse or better……but I want to
believe its for the better, if that quells any worries in your mind. It is true
– I don’t give you my full trust. That is my fault for judging a book by its
cover, listening to rumors and stories over facts and life experiences ; I
wasn’t directly involved in the war. You haven’t betrayed us and gave Asgore
your word – that for now is good enough for me.” she resigns, patting your head
with a wary smile before standing up and proceeding to the door.
“Having you here can change everyones outlooks on human mages – let you prove
yourself through words and actions. Besides, you being here seems to…….affect
Frisk. In a good way.” she finishes, before giving a little wave and closing
your door. Affecting Frisk? Thinking on the matter merely increases the sinus
headache aching through your skin and skull. Resigning from your brain, you
finish the soup, carefully dunking and biting into a biscuit. You’re pleased
with the efforts and the possible healing effects caused by monster food could
be working, or the medicine, as the intense pulsing ache through your frame
eases into a numbed state.
Sleep takes you easily as the next time you awaken the sun is already setting
on the edge of your window, the orange red light seeping past the curtains as
it rests directly over your eyes. Fluttering them open and reclining to face
the wall, you rub profusely to try and jar yourself awake. Prepared and
blocking your eyes with a hand, you sit up in bed with an intense headache,
looking to the stool beside you. More soup had been prepared, covered, and
insolated to stay toasty warm along with a renewal of med’s and beverages. A
thermometer laid at the edge as you stuck it in your mouth, internal prayers
that maybe everything would be over thanks to healing nutrients supplied in
monster-made dishes. 101 exactly. Pleased with the decline you stand and steady
yourself while using the bed-frame to stay up. With a groggy rush over your
head and heavy eyes you cautiously meander to the bathroom.
Pink impressions are stained everywhere but settling in the restroom gives you
a chance to clean your sweaty body and clothes. Showering seeming unsafe in
your dazed condition, you opt to running a soaped wash cloth over your skin to
remove the sweat and grime layer. It is blissful and pleasant as you return to
rummage about your drawers for adequate outdoor clothing. You find a t-shirt
and plaid jacket along with ripped jeans, slipping them on and shutting the
curtains before settling on you bed to knead your hands into the growing
headache. Eating the soup this time around is easier and the biscuits help with
filling the lone space in your stomach before you relax back, no longer okay
with lying in the sweat drenched bed. Staying in bed and getting better wasn’t
what you did. Shrugging on the jacket, you slowly make your way downstairs.
Coming downstairs was a mistake. Everyone is listening over the news as they
munch on dinner, gathered in the large living room as everyone is focused on
the news. Its reporting an anonymous threat from the anti-monster gang that had
just ended as you came within hearing distance.
“Government officials and law enforcement are taking necessary steps to
capturing the followers and officiates to the anti-monster gang claiming under
the affiliation ‘Black Hearts’ ; Samuel, how do you see this news? Beneficial
or Detrimental?” “…..Well Anne I-I have to admit, I agree completely that these
‘monsters’ or ‘magicals’ suddenly being thrust into our world openly is against
my beliefs on the matter, and that they shouldn’t remain among us or atleast in
not heavily populated areas until more terms and agreements can be placed.
However - I don’t agree with their method of removing them. It has escalated
from senseless bullying to actual crimes against a rather docile…species? They
seem rarely hostile and haven’t been the real initiators, thus seem unworthy of
these offensives.“
“Surprised they even bothered to get news-cast who had neutral outlooks…”
Undyne spits as Papyrus quickly shushes her. Alphys lays a reassuring claw on
her shoulder which seems to drive a bit of the tension out of Undyne.
“It’s a step in a direction. What the direction may be is still not clear.”
Asgore agrees as Frisk huddles closer to his lap, picking at his meal.
“Its true that the monsters may not be the initiators, but they surely have
found a bodyguard for their child ambassador! Yesterday evening there was light
coverage and video of the child ambassador being targeted by these ‘Black
Hearts’ during that terrible rainstorm. A truck plowed at the little kid during
a natural crossing and was thankfully saved by a passerby, ducking the child to
safety and fleeing to the mountains. Police reported the childs safety was
ensured and has been promptly sent home, but this mysterious woman hasn’t
stepped forth for her brave actions to the media. A more recent video taken
displays this same woman later that night attacking the attackers!” the news
woman exclaims, excitement clear on her face as a static video likely taken
from a phone shows you creeping to the gang before your ultimate turf war is
displayed over the news. The guy holding the phone keeps cursing as his words
are mostly blurred or talked over with action dialogue supplied by the news,
but Frisk is bouncing on the couch, signing quickly.
“I HAD NO IDEA HUMANS WERE SO NIMBLE!!” Papyrus cries as he watches in
amazement, you seemingly dodging an array of clubs, knives and bullets.
“She is damn lucky is what! Bet she cheated and went against her ‘I wont use
magic nah nah’ vow.” Undyne grumbles. She clearly went from thinking you would
be good friends to detesting your existence. You cant blame her – supposedly
the reason for the Royal Guard was to capture humans and protect their people ;
likely from the mages or anyone who meant them harm ( like the mages… ).
“I’d rather her use magic in a non-lethal fight for emergencies only, but she
isn’t using spells or anything dangerous or materializing.” Asgore defends as
Toriel hugs Frisk close upon seeing the capabilities of this ‘Black Heart’
gang. Undyne huffs back in retaliation, settling slightly as Alphys soothes
her.
“Hu-human m-mages can b-be s-scary-y.” Alphys admits, Undyne hugging her close.
“Don’t worry babe! I won’t let anything happen to you! To any of you.” she
states, glancing to her dear friends and loved ones. Is this what it feels like
to be the villain? Hell, you were always the villain, Undyne in the eyes of her
people the heroine in shining armor who would sacrifice it all. The relay video
finally cuts off, returning to the newscast.
“Theories point to this woman being a relative to the ambassador, others say
she is a kind samaritan helping prove thhat monsters aren’t alone in this
fight. However she has earned a third label : traitor.” the lady giggles
openly, the rest of the cast besides her co-anchor looking to her like she has
gone insane.
“Oh no.” Toriel sighs, trying to plug Frisks ears but he retaliates. Everyone
seems to know what’s coming as you listen intently. The co-anchor chimes in.
“This girl just arrives out of nowhere, no name or face, and begins fighting
back against this gang. And they only do thisnow? If they were truly so against
it, why hesitate to speak out? Its my personal belief this ‘defender of
monsters’ is nothing more then hired help or promised media coverage – and look
; she is getting it.” he purrs with a shrewd face. The woman beside him just
continues to nod in false agreement. This was pissing you off. Media coverage?
Personally paid? You choose who you choose to protect, what right do they have
to judge you so quickly after two little reports?
“The simple fact of the matter is she prefers the company of monsters to her
own kind. She would attack, hospitalize and even kill her own! She is a traitor
to her people, her world, and her god.” he barks. You can’t keep down about
this anymore – religious bastard.
“Excuse me?!” you shriek, everyone instantly whirling around to see you
standing in the archway. You don’t care, you’re intently glaring at the tv. “
My people?! You scumbags were NEVER my people! Sure, I will hospitalize people
who fight me openly, but WHAT right do you have to call ME a TRAITOR?! I NEVER
BELONGED TO YOU!! I DON’T BELONG TO ANYONE!! SO!TAKE your beliefsand whatever
GOD you think I suffer under and-and-“ Papyrus and Frisk. No swearing. Nope.
Nuh-uh. FUUUUU-“-piskol fore iscuwal se yeros kijun !!” you curse in forbidden
tongue, storming out of the room and throwing open the back door before pacing
by the fence, ruffling your hair in aggravation. Dropping into a crossed leg
stance on the cold dirt, you craft a thin barrier to punch aggressively as you
continue to mumble unknown curses. You keep at this for a solid ten minutes –
or longer. Whenever Asgore decides to waddle out and check in on you.
“Rea.” he starts.
“what?” you hiss in return. You should stop, but you’re still fuming as you
refuse to even glance at the kind king.
“What did you mean by that? That the humans were never your people?” he states,
pulling a lawnchair over to have a little chat.
“Exactly what I said.” you grunt, crumpling in on yourself.
“But you are a human mage…” he reminds as you huff a sigh, trying to fizzle
your temper.
“So just because something has the word human in it, it automatically relates
to humanity? This fearful humanity where everyone cowers in fear but deals with
it differently, whether its hiding away or fighting back? This disgusting
humanity that pillars harmful smoke and chemicals into the earth, disregarding
of its future? This stupid humanity that thinks one section of earth is better
then the other, thus they fight and kill and destroy to eventually conquer or
halt everything with mindless treaties?! Until the monsters came to the
surface, humans have been making mistake after mistake between their own! These
idiots were never my people…” you huff out, clinging to your legs tightly.
Though the headache has calmed down, your sweating has picked up again. Asgore
scooches closer.
“But isn’t that your job? Going through time and worlds / universes and fixing
barriers?...Protecting the humans from imminent disasters?” he points out as
you finally look to him. His expression is curious though he has that deep
knowing smile.
“Heh. Look where that’s gotten me. I never belonged with the humans. I’m a
freak, a monster among. In my world I was capable of magic at a very young
time. I didn’t have control over it and couldn’t hide my eyes. My parents were
ashamed of my existence and tried to keep me locked away – I had been born to
non-magically aware humans that questioned my magic blood, thanks to secret
blood/DNA injections. My parents shunned me, anyone outside shunned me, and
when I accidently let my emotions get the better of me? My magic popped. It
was...the worst feeling and...and a tragedy." you mumble, trying to move past
your past,  "Everyone knew – out in the open. They tried to burn me. BURN me
for ‘witchcraft’. That’s when the mages took me in……they were my people from
that day forth, never these humans.” you vex, feeling at your constantly
covered legs. The marks may fade, the hair may never grow in, but the scarred
memories remain. Asgore takes note of your behavior and moves ever closer,
close enough to settle a heavy paw on your shoulder in a sense of
understanding.
“With great power comes great responsibilities. Someone so young exposed to
such extreme powers cannot be expected to follow through perfectly, to lead a
normal life……like Frisk.” he sighs instantly as he meshes his beard with his
other paw in slight irritation.
“What is this about Frisk? Toriel mentioned something earlier that I had
affected him?”
“Well…me and Tor- Toriel both believe that Frisk……he may be a mage.” he
confesses as you instantly react.
“What?! How are you- what!!?”
“When he came through the underground he had amazing powers, the ability to
speak to souls directly even with his lack of actual voice. He………he used six
other human souls we had collected and shattered the barrier. A strong,
determined, sweet child such as him? You would never guess it…but we have seen
what he is capable of in the underground, and with him being directly aware of
others souls its-“ Asgore tries to explain but becomes twisted in self thought.
Human children born not directly from mage blood yet resulting in a higher
magical awareness then others was rare, but not impossible. Usually with a
specific pairing of people with the slightest magical history have a chance,
but it wasn’t common as magic history ran thinner with each generation.
Magicals were often considered crazy or never knew they had different potential
then those around them.
“With everything you have explained : your parents abandoning, your powers at a
young age, and with everything Frisk seems capable of, there is a chance.” he
admits, though there is no pride in the matter for him. His child being the one
thing they all fear.
“Where are his parents?”
“Gone, or just not speaking out. He won’t say anything of where he came from or
how he reached the underground. His past is…a touchy subject.” Asgore and you
share a strained sigh as you plot your next move on the matter.
“So…you want me to see if he is or not?” you shorten as Asgore gives a hesitant
nod. “Alright. And if he is?” you question as Asgore takes this as a moment to
think on it more.
“I can teach him – train him. Human mages magic works different then monster
magic. There’s more physicality to it then just soul power.” you try to explain
as Asgore thinks further on the matter. Sighing, he stands and turns away.
“That would probably be best…if he is though, you are never to put him in any
danger.” he warns.
“Of course not. Alright, when you’re ready send him out.” you suggest, settling
into a meditative state to channel energy.
“Now?” he questions in light sadness as you give a firm nod.
“Easier to see wisps of magic in the darkness. Of course, he could be a shadow
mage but…….lets not delve into that possibility, shall we?” you say as you
avoid that awkward conversation. Shadow mages were banned dark mages. Evil
among evil. Darker in the darkness. Asgore accepts the terms and wanders back
inside as you continue to channel your flow. A few minutes later, the backdoor
reopens as Frisk comes out alone. A few monsters are silhouetted in the
windows, over-watching the coming exchange. Frisk comes to stand in front of
you.
“Hey Frisk. Did they tell you anything about why you’re out here?” you start
off, offering to sit beside you as he carefully sits and copies your cross-
legged meditation stance.
‘Dad said it was about magic.’ he gestures with his hands.
“And he also told me that you could speak directly to a soul? Can you do that
with me? I would like this to remain quiet.” you whisper. You need answers from
this kid and with how private he seems about handing them out, soul chatter
seemed the easiest way. But he was unsure, bashfully hiding away. Sighing, you
concentrate in on his little souls wavelength and connecting it to your own.
“Frisk” you resonate, Frisk jumping a little in surprise before smiling wide.
“I didn’t know you could do it too!” he squeaks. His voice is adorable, pure
and innocent, a little high pitched for a boy his age but you drive that from
your mind.
“Of course I can Frisk. What type of witch would I be without soul telepathy?”
you reply, settling both hands on your waist in defiance as he giggles. Time to
be brute blunt.
“Frisk – I need you to tell me what your situation wasbefore Ebott.” you ask as
Frisk tries to glance away. “Is it okay if I make predictions and you just nod
or shake your head?” you insist. He seems adamant to answer anything with
actual words so you can take guesses. He agrees.
“Alright. Prediction One : Your parents didn’t like you.” you start out,
startling the child. He nods nevertheless.
“Was it because they knew you had magic?” A shake. “Was it because you didn’t
speak?” A nod. You clench up internally at the thought of parents rejecting a
child merely on the fact he didn’t have his own voice. “Did they know you could
do things that could be considered magical?” he replies with a shake. So he
wasn’t sentenced away for what he was capable of…
“Was hearing peoples souls the only thing you could do Frisk?” A nod that turns
into a shake. A complication. “You can do more then read souls?” you jab at,
and he gives a nod. “It’s safe to assume that you don’t plan to tell me what
that is, do you?” Immediate nod. This kid had more secrets then a ten key-
locked endless chest. “Does anyone else know about this other potential you
have?” you pry, and he gives a much sadder nod. He starts to tear up even, but
you press onwards. “Would they tell me if I asked them about it?” Immediate
shake. Back to square one? He begins to sniffle as you shrug off your coat and
offer it to him. “I’m sorry to ask you so many things your sensitive about
Frisk, but I can’t help you unless I know what I’m dealing with. Can you
understand I need to know more about you?” You try to explain. He nods in
agreement, if be it a sad nod.
“Alright Frisk. Now, why did you go to Ebott……did you leave because of your
parents being mean?” A nod. “Was that theonlyreason?” A shake. Oh boy,
questionnaire. “Was it because of school kids?” Nod. “Did you know that
monsters were down there?” He gives a so-so gesture with his hand. “Rumors?” He
nods. Before you can think up the next question, he speaks out.
“I heard that people who went up Ebott never came back.” he states in a dark
tone. Looking at the child, he is trembling and sniffling, but outside is 65
degrees. Only after a moment do you see the little tears plopping onto your
jacket that you put together his sentence. He had planned to leave this world.
“Oh Frisk sweetie.” you mumble out loud before sweeping the child into your
arms and cuddling them close, brushing their hair as they clutch your tee and
soak it with tears. You will need to tell Toriel to give him medicine and a
thorough scrubbing so he won’t catch your sickness, but right now he needsthis
reassurance. Asgore opens the backdoor, hesitant about whether to come over or
not.
“Is he alright?” he asks, finally stepping out into the night towards you both
huddled together.
“I hit a sensitive subject. My fault entirely.” you take the blame, rocking
Frisk in your lap as he continues to sniffle.
“Do you need anything Frisk?” he asks, urging closer to try and help his
distraught child.
“I-I would like to go see mom and dad…m-maybe get t-tea.” he politely begs to
you, unclasping his tiny grip to wipe his tears.
“That’s fine Frisk. Go on. He wants some time with you two and tea. Do you want
this to end for tonight?” you ask as he shakes before carefully standing up.
“Alrighty, go ahead.” you nudge him as he instantly flies into Asgores clutches
and is lifted into a fuzzy embrace. “Asgore, I hate to ask but could you make
two cups of that golden flower tea for whenever he is ready to come back out?”
you urge as he gives a faint smile before pulling the child indoors. Returning
to a meditative state you can’t help but sigh as screams and groans emit from
indoors. Toriels fretting along with Undynes screams of retaliation are clear,
along with Papyrus groaning ( likely at Sans’ jokes ). Alphys remains silent
but that’s probably just Alphys being the silent type. 20 minutes pass as Frisk
reopens the door with a little tray and a wide smile on his face as he nearly
runs back out to see you. Toriel could have given him rug-burn with all the
kiss marks he had planted over his face, yet he was happier then the cat who
caught the canary. Setting the tray between you Frisk copies your position and
readies his face into a serious stare.
“Feel better?” you ask as he gives a cheerful nod. “Frisk, from your past I can
tell you’re one to seek friendship, to seek resolve ; you have more of a
positive outlook on things when not many positives are around. But, you are
aware of the darkness contained in this world, how imperfect and idealized it
is to some. In short, you can see the flaws but still have a positive mindset.
Your new friends and family are likely the cause and cure of that, yeah?” you
admit, as Frisk excitedly nods thinking about the friends he has made, the
family he has found, and the love he has shared.
“In my opinion, you are most certainly a positive mage, should you have the
control. And that’s what we are going to test now.” You admit, finally getting
to the good stuff. Frisk looks nervous but determined as you turn to face him,
straightening yourself out. “Drink up little buddy. This tea has high magical
healing properties and can invigorate base magic along with internal cells.”
You explain. The dumbfounded face obviously returned means make this sound
simpler. “It makes it easier to feel your magic.” you retry as he understands
better, taking careful sips with you to not overstimulate the flow and to not
burn the tongue. Both are important. Finishing the cups, you place them back
down and get to the good business. Making a fist with one hand and a cupping
motion with the other, you rest the cup over the fist and gesture to Frisk.
“Do you understand what this means at all?” you question out as he looks it
over before giving a quizzical shake of denial. “This is a sign or respect
between human mages. The fist-“ you gesture, pulling away the fist and beating
it against your heart, “is a symbol of the physical life we bear. Humans are
physical beings with strength, will, and perseverance. The space-“ you change
the fist into a cup motion and bring it to the middle of your upper chest, “Is
a symbol of the magical life. Magicals aren’t made of the same physicality as
humans, they are more spacious, free, and relaxed. Human mages are those
capable of reaching both and combing them together to make-“
“Space fist!!”he exclaims suddenly, placing the two together and looking very
proud. A sputter of laughter comes through as you cough into your hand trying
to contain yourself. That. Was. Genius. You’re thoroughly ashamed of yourself
for not thinking of such an amazing nickname for it when you’d been taught
this. Reorganizing yourself, you return to your thoughts.
“Space fist is one way of looking at it. Others usually call it ‘The Meeting’.
It is taking the peaceful nature of magicals to relax the ever hardened fist of
physicality. Its also a way to pay respect to another mage, followed by a
little bow… I think the closest in between of the meeting in the monster world
is Undyne.” you tattle, Frisk laughing at the thought. It was a true fact –
Undynes magical potential was clear based on her ranking in the underground and
her physical strength was tested against you. Unfortunately, with her strengths
came weaknesses ; along the lines of thinking things through. Undyne was brash,
seemed ready to do anything involving fighting, and would be incapable of
finding a solid in between without intense concentration that she didn’t seem
capable of doing. Maybe in the future you would test this theory, but for now,
Frisk. Returning to him you breathe in and out with ease as you face the same
direction as him.
“The first step to channeling the meeting is to accept both as a part of your
being, let them collide harmlessly. Let them coexist.” you urge. Frisk copies
you, concentrating and breathing easily. Waiting patiently you can almost feel
the click as he brings together his two life sources. He looks to you with a
twinkle in his eyes – he felt it.
Frisk truly was capable of becoming a human mage…but what would that mean?
Would the council……you drive the thought from your mind, moving on.
“Alrighty kiddo, now-“you align yourself to easier view as you circle your
hands about your stomach “Once you can form ‘The Meeting’ a magic channel opens
within you. Similar to the forming of the meeting, there are two pouches of
energies that can funnel into one with enough training. Luckily for you, little
boss, I am a master of all three.” you boast, and with reason. The majority of
the mages stuck to either favoring their physical life force or their magical
life force. Forge and Zebbulon focused more on the physicals while Baysoph and
Mirage were more magical. You were considered a ‘masterpiece’ for a reason –
your life forces coexisted without any concentration. Concentrating on
strengthening the bond could prove……devastating to simply state.
“That’s so neat! What kind of magic do you use?!” he asks eagerly.
“Well Frisk I don’t have a preference – I can manipulate time and space,
friction and force, my internal magic flow and barriers, and the elements
so……everything? The world, the earth? It is the core of my magic.” You
simplify. His usually tiny eyes are reaching the size of plates, glistening
with amazement. With great power…came great responsibility……and incredible
self-control.
“What kind of magic can I use?!” he is bouncing as you try to ease his
excitement.
“Take it easy, little boss! Got to keep up that diligent concentration.” Under
your words Frisk takes a very serious stance as you back up to give a broader
explanation. A hands-on explanation. Taking both hands you flatten them evenly,
pressing together your fingers and forming tiny circles in the air, flowing a
magical wavelength through your skin into your palms and fingers.
“The easiest to learn tends to be Usemia, or ‘Serenity’. It is more magical
based and thusly strives off of love, life, and pleasant thoughts and feelings.
You need to be relaxed and certain when using it, understanding and ‘going with
the flow’. It is the easiest to learn because alls you need to know is you must
let it flow through you and have a positive feeling. Think of it like
breathing! You’re sucking in air, letting it curdle inside your lungs,
expanding slightly, and imagine hissing it out evenly. Does that make sense?”
you ask as Frisk gives a nod. His face reads he didn’t get that at all, but you
press onto the next energy source. Cracking your fingers and tightening your
elbows, you allow your energy to distort and retaliate. Frisk takes concern
immediately for your more rigid movements.
“This is Eskaria, or ‘Venom’. It is more physical based and feeds off
animosity, anger, and unpleasant thoughts and feelings. To use it is also
simple yet complex ; it is like evil electricity pinching within, demanding
release. While ‘Serenity’ is more of a water, the counter is ‘Venom’ as it
conducts it. It is easier to learn…with those who despise the world or are very
easily angered……like me.” you admit to the childs amazement and concern. You
blew up over the media’s perspective. It’s the first news you’d heard and you
let it affect you to the point the roof could have been ripped clean off the
house. How they ever let you live is beyond your understanding. Casting aside
your doubts you cease the erratic magic, breathing easier now that it isn’t
riling you up. You give it a moment before moving on to the final pool.
“Remember how we made ‘Space Fist’?” you joke as Frisk perks up to the amazing
nickname. “Well, similar to that, when you wish to reach the Isania, or
‘Balance’ you must combine the two energies. It is incredibly difficult to
share as the two fight each other – water and electricity, destruction and
peace, hatred and happiness. They don’t mix well. It’s like trying to drink
orange juice while brushing your teeth : disgusting in every sense.” you play
at, Frisk enjoying the comparison but understanding.
“But you mastered it, right? You said so.” Frisk points out which makes you
grow in ego.
“I did. I have. I am a master of the three energy pools. I can’t explain the
third pool to you. That’s because its an indescribable feeling and varies
between users. Besides, you don’t have a single mean bone, muscle, or blood
cell in ya!” you remind, playfully punching his shoulder as he grows a wide
grin, proud of his easy-going and sweet nature. “I don’t even believe you have
a venom pouch! You aren’t a snake!” You play more, tickling the kid until his
laughing bursts into joyous cried pleas. You stop, letting the child breathe.
Straightening back into your sitting position, Frisk follows suite as you
prepare your magical flow.
“For beginners hand gestures prove very useful to assist with channeling,
gauging, and pressuring the magic in a general direction. I want you to do as I
do, okay Frisk?” you relay, Frisk giving a firm nod as you both make flat hand
gestures pushing forward. “Now, take your hands and imagine a bubble. A
precious bubble, one you are fond of and have loved due to its beauty and
texture.” You mentally picture for Frisk as you both begin to smooth your hands
around the invisible bubble. “You got that bubble?” you ask as Frisk gives a
shaky nod, focused.
“Now, continue to imagine that bubble but filling it with light. Any light at
all : colorful lights, patterned lights, different sized lights, dim and bright
lights, anything.”you urge as Frisk closes their eyes, concentration clear on
his face. It takes a moment, maybe two, but it begins to glow. A bright
miniature assortment of balls of light, shimmering different hues form between
his hands. They are the size of Christmas lights but hardly dimmed. Upon closer
inspection they look like little hearts floating around and it hits you. These
are his friends souls he has imagined. It is precious and adorable and he isn’t
even looking, just stuck concentrating.
“Frisk. Open your eyes.” you whisper with a beg as he peels open one eye as the
other shoots open. He is lost in sheer amazement as the mental bubble pops.
Upon instant realization you form a bubble barrier to insolate the tiny balls
of light as Frisk stands and looks closer.
“I did that?! I DID THAT?!?” he is jumping everywhere, screaming the thought in
your head with the greatest grin you have ever seen. He can’t stand still he is
hopping about the yard with sincere bliss. You finally have to catch him in
fear he will slip in the still fresh mud, grabbing his shoulder with a slight
sense of pride.
“How ‘bout you head inside, get a jar, and we can put these little guys inside
to keep? That sound good?” you suggest. He is gone within the blink of an eye,
stumbling inside and jumping with joy. Nobody within was able to see anything
due to the distance and darkness. A few moments later, Frisk is rushing out
with a little kitchen jar Toriel must have given him in confusion. Manipulating
the bubble, you squeeze it into the jar as Frisk caps it tightly. Double
checking for a seal of approval, you release the barrier and the lights float
proudly within, shimmering on the slightly distorted and manipulated glass in
refractals. Then he starts crying which completely freaks you out.
“Frisk! What-whats wrong little bud?” you beg, kneeling over to cup his
shoulders as he hugs close the jar.
“I…I-I made those pretty fireflies?” he questions with the sweetest innocence
of bliss you’d ever heard. It had to of given you at-least three cavities it
was so sweet. Cuddling Frisk closer, you snuggle up to his shoulder as you both
finally head back inside. Everyone has retreated to the living room in
patience, Frisk had told them to wait in surprise. Rounding the corner before
him Undyne rushes forward and pins you to the ground before you can even blink,
painfully driving a knee into your throat.
“What did you ask Frisk that made him cry?! Did you hurt him?!! IF YOU
HURTHIMIMMA-“ she cuts off as you give a pained choke, questioning only for a
moment why your face is turning a similar shade of blue and purple to her own
before throwing herself off you in concern. Clearly she wasn’t expecting that
reaction. Coughing and choking, you gulp the necessary air.
“SH-SHITIMSORRYYOUALRIGHTIWASNTEXPECTINGTHATTOWORKINSTANTLYHOLY-“ Undyne begins
a babble of apology and astonishment as Frisk sets the jar down to help sit you
up, patting your back as you catch yourself.
“Undyne, really!” Toriel gasps, standing to walk over as you stand quickly.
“I-I’m fine. Really. Good.” you whisper out, waving off Toriels concern as you
massage your neck. Clearing your throat you gesture to Toriel. “You might want
to sit down.” you mumble a little louder, still coughing as Frisk rushes back
with a little water. So sweet. That’s another cavity. This kid will give you
dentures. Chugging down the water as Frisk picks up their hidden jar, you nudge
him into view before announcing the news.
“Congrats. Your kids a mage!” you belt, a happy smile of pride on your face.
Almost nobody else shares in the pleasure. Papyrus is the only one giddy,
looking at the lights as they sparkle in his sockets. You choose to not count
Papyrus since it seems anything and everything makes him happy. Everyone else
seems to have frozen in time, besides Undyne who begins asking babbled
questions. Toriel takes the first action.
She faints. Falls flat backwards on the ground. Everyone immediately breaks
from the trance as Papyrus tries to dive catch her. He manages it barely,
carrying him down along with her as he breaks her immediate fall. Frisk hands
you the jar and rushes to his mothers aid as you give a huff.
“Told you to sit down.” you grumble, holding the jar close as Papyrus and Frisk
fan Toriel with their hands.
“YOUR MAJESTY, WAKE UP! EVERYTHINGS ALRIGHT!” Papyrus cries out as he fans her
majesty who is slightly roused. Alphys begins pacing in and out of the living
room and kitchen, mumbling numbers to herself in percentages. Sans and Asgore
are both still taking this in, faces unreadable. Undyne seeks answers.
“Frisk made this – those – these?” she asks, poking at the jar.
“Yes.” you flatly reply. She gives you a wary intense look.
“……and what kind of magic was this?” she pokes at.
“Oh my god Undyne this is like the simplest form human mages can do. I told him
to make a mental bubble and put lights in it. He made a mental bubble and put
little lights in it, and then we put them in a jar. Are you satisfied? Its not
like I’m making summoning squares or signing him into a blood contract!” you
harshly whisper back in annoyance at her presuming you had Frisk use evil or
dark magic.
“……Whats a summoning square?” she genuinely asks, holding the jar to peer
closer with her amber eye. You’re lucky she takes it as you are compelled to
pummel your own head into the archway repeatedly. The dinging of the clock
striking the hour fills the confused silence as Toriel finally flutters her
eyes awake, dazed and slightly confused before recalling the events and burying
her face into her paws. Asgore takes the clock ringing as a good break off
point.
“Frisk, child. Isn’t tonight the day you have your little sleepover with
Papyrus and Undyne at her house?” Asgore chimes in. Papyrus and Frisk become
equally delighted at the reminder.
“AH YES! FRISK, GATHER YOUR THINGS!! WE MUST BATHE AND BRUSH BEFORE BED! I, THE
GREAT PAPYRUS, PROPOSE A RACE!” Papyrus instantly wagers as Frisk gives a
definite glare of acceptance along with a thumbs up. He kisses Toriel and
Asgore goodnight as Toriel shifts to think on the couch. Sans gives a hard hug
to the kid as he throws himself upstairs to gather his belongings. Looking over
to Undyne, you take the jar from her intensive stare and dull your tone.
“I need to speak to the parents. Alone if possible.” you ask. She gives you a
dirty stare before resigning to picking up Alphys.
“C’mon Alph. Lets go draw those little dorks a bath.” Undyne informs as she
drags away Alphys who gives a very quiet goodbye. All that remain are the
Dreemurrs and a very dark expressioned skeleton.
“Can I talk to the parents alone Sans?” you urge as he leans back and gets
comfier. Oh. He will be like that. Before you can bark in frustration at this
lazy lug Asgore puts up a defensive hand.
“Its alright for him to be here. If it’s concerning Frisk, he should be aware.”
he tells. Sans raises his brow bones in an ‘I told you so’ fashion as you opt
to stick out your tongue in disgust, placing the jar on the coffee table and
take a seat opposite of the couch as Asgore takes up the little jar.
“So its true. He really is a mage?” he seeks confirmation as he glances over
the jar. Toriel has come out of her paws with a hardened resolve. Sans
is……unreadable.
“Yes. Now, I have other news for you but I will let you decide : Do you want
the bad news or the absolutely terrible news?” you imply, gauging reactions.
There isn’t much of anything ; they were prepared for consequences.
“tibia honest, bad comes before terrible soooo…” Sans mulls about, stretching
back in relaxation.
“Fine. Bad news. That was a fucking terrible reaction to hearing news you
already considered a possibility.” You curse out, unwavered. “For a kid that’s
already getting bullied and stared at probably at school for how he lives, who
he is, and what not? I can say from experience he doesn’t need worried stares
at home as well. I don’t care what shit you have against the mages – channel
that at me. I don’t give a damn. BUT. Don’t you dare let that ever be directed
at Frisk. It will mess with his future, and that kid has potential. So, dammit,
put it aside. He is still your child, still your Frisk.” you go from scolding
to pleading. You refuse to let Frisk suffer through the same things you did,
especially from people he holds so close. A little pitter patter of footsteps
rushes down the stairs as Frisk comes by with a little backpack, blanket tied
around his neck as a scarf with Flowey in one hand and pillow in the other.
“Ah, night Frisk. Have fun at your sleepover “ you wave as he gets really
excited and comes over setting Flowey and his pillow on the table before
turning to you. He makes a fist and cups it in one hand, giving a slight bow –
the sign of respect. You weren’t even aware he was paying attention as you
rambled about his space fist. Returning the gesture gets him riled up as he
takes another moment to clamber onto the couch giving Toriel and Asgore another
hug. Toriel seems to have taken your words to heart, claiming him close for an
extended time. Finally clawing free of her clutches, he gives a fist bump to
Sans and gathering his effects as he rushes towards the connecting hallway,
Papyrus trailing a few seconds behind with an assortment of things.
Sighing, Asgore gives in to the sudden silence.
“And what is this worse news?”
“Its not worse. Its absolutely terrible news.” you correct.
“Yes. Fine. Please just say it.” Asgore begs. You feel awful for this
frustrated king sometimes.
“Your kid is a human mage.”
“Please, Rea, just give us the news already.”
“I just did.” you reply flatly. He looks to you with confusion.
“I don’t understand Rea.” he pitifully replies, trying to wrap his head around
it.
“Fine I will explain with example. A kid, a young child, finds out they can do
incredible things. Everyone begins to recognize that childs potential. Word
spreads. Spreads eventually to the void. Anything happening in the void goes to
one little itty bitty time space. Know what that time space is?” you poke at,
giving the horror time to sink in as Toriel and Sans try to catch up to speed.
“No.” Asgore pleads.
“Then another things catches ear. Whats that? It’s a hybrid child masterfully
combined with two possibly ancient similar magic pools and is already being
trained by a general master?! Sign me UP.” you sarcastically scream, glaring
out the window at the overhead sky.
“You can’t take him.” Asgore tells.
“You’re what?!” Toriel understands immediately as a circle of magenta flames
circle you. “No….You…You will not take another child from M E.“ she bites. A
distant yell happens before the world around you plummets into black and white.
Looking around is nothing but a blackness as Toriel stands before you. All
furniture and other residents has disappeared and she is crying. Above her you
see numbers and letters.
HP – 440               AT – 80                 DF – 80
The numbers reminded you of an RPG style stat layout. You mastered your fair
share of video games. For roughly 100 years it was the only other thing besides
barriers and pointless lessons. Was this how Ebott monsters fought? Confused
but accepting of their ways, you prepare for what Toriel will throw at you.
Glancing to her she is transfixed above you, frozen again in place. Following
her line of site you find…similar letters.
LV – 2844             HP – 10                 AT – 666               DF – 1996
Whistling with amazement at whatever DF and LV are, reveling in your favorite
number as AT and…HP 10? That seemed bogus. Before you glimmered a familiar
sight. Your soul. Tapping it proudly with joy, it bounces happily. With your
magic reserves contained within it makes you an easier target but gives you a-
lot more ride out with any abilities. The plump heavy heart comes to cradle in
both your hands as you admire the colors. Orange, Green and Dark Blue swerve
through it, the blue creasing the inner form like a shell as the orange spirals
around a green orb. Cracks are laced around everywhere. Same as it was
yesterday, the week before, and the eternity before that.
As suddenly as the sensation starts your soul shrivels back into your body and
the living room appears again. Toriel slumps back into the couch, out cold yet
again. Asgore responds immediately.
“Wha- Tori! Tori, can you hear me?!” He begs, cradling her closer. Him and Sans
both give you an intense look that Toriel had shared earlier. “What did you
do?” he growls, looking frightening enough to summon forth a trident at any
moment.
“Hey hey hey hey! I didn’t do NOTHIN’! She was looking at these numbers above
my head, I was fiddling around with my soul, next thing I know im back out here
and getting blamed for doing NOTHING!” you defend, putting hands up in innocent
fashion.
“Numbers? Your statistics?........What were they?” he growls, giving back his
attention to Toriel.
“Oh uh……hang on uhh…ok there was LV, HP, AT, and DF. Um. Okay. AT was 666.
Easy.” you start out as both aware monsters shoot you stunned stares.
“that’s not funny, and i’m a bad-joke comedian.” Sans points out.
“I wasn’t joking! That’s what it said!” you hiss back at him presuming you to
be a liar.
“The rest of the numbers Rea…please.” Asgore asks as he lifts Toriel up more,
likely trying to carry her to bed.
“I’m thinking man. LV and DF were huge and I can’t remember which was which!
Umm fff- LV was…was 2…dammit 2896?” you question. Asgore drops Toriel back onto
the couch. “No, no 96 was the end for DF…AH! 2844. That was LV. DF was 1996!
HA! I REMEMBER!” you point out, enthused with your quick memory. Asgore looks
like death is staring him in the face. Sans is likely seeing that as well just
isn’t reading it as they both stare incredulously at you.
“What? Is that weird? Off? Is it sick? Can numbers be sick?” You question out
loud.
“yes. its sick.” Sans bites, taking a place between you and the royalty. His
left socket is flaring a blue flame as a cyan eye takes prominent place within
glaring back as he is hunched and raring to fight.
“Okay. Someone explain how its sick. I don’t understand Ebott monster duels.
Fights? Can there be multiple?” you question as Sans doesn’t offer anything.
“LV is LOVE.” He growls. You cant help chuckling.
“Love? Dude, I don’t love ANYONE. There is no damn way that is my love.” you
hiss back, as the skeleton glares you down. You had given up trying to love
anyone. Comes with the job, not managing to hold a relationship. Mirage and
Forge were all you needed honestly.
“you’re right. you don’t have a hair of real love in you. LOVE is an acronym,
short stuff. stands for level of violence.” he snarls as he pulls his hands
from his pocket. It takes you a moment to understand it.
“Ohhhhh I get it……..yeah I wasn’t expecting it to be that high but I mean I
don’t keep a kill count on record and like some of these things I fight are
inten-“ you begin to ramble before a set of bones comes flying at you, narrowly
avoiding your face as one cuts your chin as the rest dig into the wall. You
wont break eyesight with the skeleton as he glares you down. His sick smile
hasn’t moved from his face as he straightens out. He instantly materializes
infront of you, something materializing behind him as he scoots to the side. A
gigantic animalistic skull floats in the air, blue glowing eyes furrowed as a
white beam shoots out from the slacked jaw, thrusting you through a tear as you
limply land on the ground. Barely able to look up in time, a mesh of bones
comes shooting up through the ground. Using your hand you thrust up with enough
magical force that you fly out of reach of the bones, only to be met with
another intense burning beam that strikes through you.
You hit something in this place of nothingness. Slamming against it, you fall
to the ground as you catch your feet onto the solid beneath. Suddenly the world
returns to that familiar black and white setting as your soul floats before
you. Sans steps into your sight, clear sweat beading down his neck as he looks
onto your form. Looking up you can see his stats.
HP – 1                   AT – 1                    DF – 1
There is no way its that easy. There is no way he would confront you with
knowledge of what you had for supposed stats if Toriels were higher. He has a
something else, something interesting. You watch his eye flicker blue and
yellow, flames licking the socket as he stares you down.
“i wanted to believe maybe our luck had taken a good turn. i wanted to have
hope that maybedespite who you were, what we knew and didn’t, and with frisk?
maybe you were good. but man if i have never been more wrongin my life.” he
chuckles deeply as it rings in the dead space surrounding you. Standing up, you
know this will be a dusting off the cobwebs as you crack your neck. Its been
awhile since you’ve been allowed to let loose.
“i am a great judge of characters, and let me tell you. you? you were vile
right from the get-go. its not even a question that i needto stop you, so i
will just say it you , you   d i r t y   m u r d e r e r.” he growls as ten
more skulls appear behind him. “you’re gonna have a   b a d   t i m e.”
You can hardly contain your giggles. He obviously thinks you’re out of your
mind, but you’ve lost any regret. Your eye starts to swell with magic, you feel
it spinning, processing, adjusting, timing, channeling, directing, amplifying,
everything to just give you juice. Your hair strips free of that human brunette
tone back to a sleek white you knew and loved.
“Oh Sans. Don’t you know not to read a book by its cover? Didn’t you learn
anything from that newsperson?” you giggle, trying to contain yourself as you
pull free your scythe, holding it close with a dear caress as balls of flames
and electricity sprout behind you, spindling from above on impossibly thin
wires.
“ D o n ‘ t   b e   s o   q u i c k   t o   j u d g e   m e .“
Chapter End Notes
     AW SHIT. WTF is that Sans X OC doing in the tags if they be dueling
     X'D?!
     IDK, but its MUCH MUCH later!!
     Mueheheheheheh =U=
     Leave comments below <3 I love them
***** Time for Chances *****
Chapter Summary
     Keep attacking. He can't dodge forever.
     Why did you stop?
Chapter Notes
     Sorry. Sorry. Had some real hiatus on this chapter and hopefully the
     next comes a little faster.
     However, to those who don't know, this likely wont be getting a
     chapter til about two for my other fic make it out. Those usually
     consist of 3-5 day intervals so really don't be surprised at the lack
     of updates.
     I apologize ahead of time - its just this isn't my primary. Its to
     help just chill my nerves.
     However, I greatly appreciate the views it gets for being a wild idea
     :) Thanks you guys <3
Even though his smile withheld, you knew it was slightly genuine as you cast
yourself at him, lunging and striking with explosions of elements, Sans
fluently dodging and retaliating with intense particle beams erupting from the
skulls slacked maws. Passing the beams easily, you hone in closer and closer to
your target, watching that same number.
HP : 1                     AT : 1                     DF : 1
If his health was truly at one, how would this be an even fight? Even in your
exhilarated pacing, dancing with the murderous intent being projected at you,
if you landed a single hit he would die. Dead. Sayonara. Even lunging at him
with every intent to break that smirking skull beneath your foot – you can’t.
Closing in, you realize that as he is sending his canons at your approach, he
isn’t going to avoid it in time. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you jump
him, directly into an awaiting attack.
Sneaky little f- you glee to yourself before you’re rocketed across the
emptiness of the void, glaring back in delight and then instant depression at
someone who had the capabilities to equal yours was so fragile. Sighing and
dimming your aggression, there’s only one way to work this out. Internally, you
settle your anger and force, taking a calmer view over the situation, no matter
the utter despise it boils into you. Finally a fair fight and it was so out of
reach.
…Maybe Papyrus was more likely to put up a fight ; but he hasn’t shown any
aptitude for conflict in the past few times you’ve made interactions with
him.Dodging away as a coordinated flurry of blue and white bones being sent
flying at your distanced direction. Looking over him, sweat is already beading
down he features, slow panting as he has hardly moved from his location.
Oh god no wonder he has such low statistics.
Watching the gravity around him floating him up, his jacket flares around him
while his pupiled eye pulses a brilliant cyan blue mixed with yellow as clear
wrath and hatred covers his face. He truly wasn’t going to give you a chance.
Quite the judge of character. The grinding of his teeth is practically audible
from the distance, but the void is utterly quiet despite the extremely one
sided duel taking place.
Truly remaining calm and collected during his constant barrage of bones and
beams isn’t as infuriating as how you’re going to have to explain the following
situation to Asgore. In an instant, he vanishes from your sight.  You hear him
materialize moments later, behind you as you take the moment of his nearby
availability and easily throwing yourself out of the fire-line of another wave
of bones. Cupping your hands together and thinking of a sealing this persistent
fuck away, you create a tri-layered barrier bubble around his form before the
gravitational pull brings him back to earth with a thud. Sighing, you sit back
ruffling a hand through your hair while wavered muffled screams come from
behind the magic containment as Sans screams and bangs against it, absolute
rage and fury in empty eyes.
How was this skeleton more expressive then most humans?
Advancing your track, you nudge over to the edge of the bubble, sitting against
it while leaning your weight in. It doesn’t roll despite the abundant lack of
stopping force in this nothingness. Groaning and letting your head tip back as
your eyes flutter closed, you take shallow breaths while relaxing the rest of
your core. Pressing your ear against the bubble leads to the slight rattling of
bones. You refuse to look at Sans as you begin to speak.
“I know you can hear me in there, but I can’t hear you, so don’t go straining
your non-existent voice box, eh?” you offer as a barrage of grunts and barks
muffle past the bubbles. You can only make out ‘fuck’.
“I don’t give a fuck what you’re saying, so I’m just going to talk and you can
listen or not. I just feel like talking, thusly – fuck you.” you spit, refusing
to look at him. You wonder where to begin ; why do you feel compelled to share
your past and excuses with this asshole? There wasn’t any excuse honestly –
this was your life and you had come to accept that over the extended miserable
life it was. Sighing and accepting, you result to rambles.
“I wasn’t like the mages – I wasn’t born in their system. I hated my life ;
easily aggressive little brat. Before they took me in, I had little to no
control over my magic – and man when it erupted……it was an accident.” you self-
plea as your thoughts recall your past. You forge on, “In all honesty…if I
gained one LV for every human caught in that ‘accident’? Heheh…it would be over
200 by the time I was seven.” you admit, shallowly and filled with terror as
you plant a palm against your forehead. It was hot and sweating. Was it from
the sudden magical exercise or the fever? Maybe both. It was pulling your
concentration away as you allowed one of the bubbles to disintegrate which
allowed Sans to be heard but still incapable of doing anything. Yet, he said
nothing nor made any sound.
“It was tough – being alone and stared at with such disgust. They said I was
possessed ; my eye was that of the Devils. Lucky me getting born into a
religious town, huh?” you chuckled. It wasn’t funny. “The only way I avoided
anyone finding out about my powers was bubbling it up, like my emotions and
needs. ‘Driving myself away is for the better – I would never hurt them no
matter what.’ I would tell myself, going off into the woods and practicing on
my own. Eventually, though, someone broke that little mantra of mine.”
“It was at school. Bullies being bullies, a girl shot pitiful little spitballs
that stuck in my hair. Everyone would giggle, but I wouldn’t care. Hairs too
damn white to even see it in, heheh…” you joke at your locks as you run a
regret filled finger through them. “Well, I was feeling courageous that day.
‘It’s a misunderstanding – I just have to clear it up!’ I told myself. I turned
and confronted her in a nice way. She screamed because of my eye and threw her
orange juice into my face. I panicked and screamed, lunging out at her and we
both fell to the floor. My eyes burned like crazy…” you grumble recalling the
feeling of wanting to scratch them free of your sockets. Orange juice was evil.
He still hasn’t said anything, not even rattling. You disregard the silence and
continue speaking whether or not he listens or cares.
“She screamed of how I was trying to kill her. If I wasn’t so confused and hurt
I might’ve laughed, but everyone believed her. With my one good eye I glanced
around and everyone had sprinted from their seats to the closest wall to try
and get away from the ‘monster among us’……the teacher sided with the majority
of the class, dragging me into the hallway. She didn’t give me a chance to
defend myself as where I came from the teachers were allowed to physically
punish you. So she did. Here’s a helpful hint : Smacking a kid with a wooden
paddle doesn’t make them stop crying.” you groan, recalling the sheer sting it
brought. Back then you were convinced it would leave permanent bruises that
would stay there for the rest of your life, quietly covered with tattoos to
make it something else. What luck they didn’t, or you would need to cover the
majority of your body in them.
“Making matters worse, she was doing all this yelling, beating, and
condemnation in the middle of the busy school hallway. Teachers, other kids and
parents were watching on, whispering. In my head it was the most humiliating
moment of my life. ‘I haven’t done anything wrong! Stop blaming me, please!
Please stop!’ I would feebly beg which only made her angrier for my ‘blatant
lies during a period of constitutional confession’ I think she said. It was at
that moment, that single moment, I felt hatred.” The word spits from you as
your heartbeat rises in pace, your memory giving recollected images of what
occurred, and……the aftermath.
“It was like a little voice in my head said ‘They haven’t done anything for
you. Why should you be nice to them? What have they ever given you but pain,
suffering, and stares? They haven’t had a reason to stare……so I’ll give them
one’……And then I exploded.” you finish. You wait a few moments to let those
words sink in before continuing on with your stupid rambling. Why am I
explaining this to him?
“I literally exploded in magic. In more technical terms, I screamed, allowing
my emotions to skyrocket and the third pool that I didn’t even know I had
freed, unleashing hell across the entire school and nearby stores and houses.
Walls collapsed, people were cut down or exploded, glass from windows and
lights fell everywhere along with pools of blood. It somehow triggered the
fire-alarm ; the water hung in the air as floating droplets accumulated. It
stopped after about ten seconds, and I blacked out from the sudden outburst.”
“…………” Nothing from him, huh? I don’t even care if he’s there anymore, everyone
says talking about your troubles helps you vent out some steam. I’m too worked
up and in the middle to give anymore fucks about who is listening.
“I woke up. I woke up with a bag over my head, enraged screams and rocks
getting thrown at me. My hands were tied and they were tying me to something.
They pulled off the bag…They had tied me to a pillar in the middle of a pile of
firewood, match at the ready. I didn’t even have a moment to process what was
happening before they lit the wood. I don’t know why but I looked for my
parents, maybe hoping a glimmer that they cared enough about me to stop this
madness. They were dead. Their bodies burnt to a crisp. They had been killed
because of me, claiming they were using dark magic. Because of my existence,
all those people at the school, my parents? They were dead.  All blood on my
hands.” Now you were visibly shaking. No matter how much you scrubbed and
scrapped, you could still mentally imagine the blood dripping from your fingers
and palms, guts and fire below you symbolizing your body count as you stood
atop a mound of defenseless foes. There was no pride, nothing you did was ever
your choice – but theirs.
“Before I was set ablaze, Baysoph, the oldest coot back at THC, saved my life
and dragged me back. They healed me, trained me, and perfected my abilities. I
didn’t ask for it, but I didn’t go against them. It was the nicest anyone had
been to me my entire life. I thought it could last forever – me making magical
friends who understood me and my doubts, my fears. But they had bigger plans…”
“The world stumbled into war. Atleast, my world. I was about ten in human
years, still in my seven year old body as I refused to return to that wretched
place. I was given little to no choice. I was turned into a murderous puppet
without realizing it, but once I had the bodies had already been piled up. They
used my frustrations and sheer energy to topple the opposing enemy, collecting
the ancient spoils that had been locked away as I got nothing but a pat on the
head for my crimes. If I had felt anything, I likely would have vomited. The
next 50 years went like that : killing for magical treasures Baysoph claimed
were rightfully ours, binding and sealing imminent threats, keeping humanity
from fucking up anymore then they already were.” you groan as you list off your
sudden responsibilities. Still no remarks from the supposed company. Could he
teleport out of their? For once in what felt like an eternity, you felt tears
dribble down your cheeks. Ah…nostalgia. You refused to show this weakness to
the ‘enemy’.
“Eventually, I got sick of them bossing me around and using me as their chore
mutt. I rebelled, opening to who I truly am. Baysoph nearly became the sun he
was so excited he was steaming. It was pretty gross. By allowing myself to
break the chains they had put on me, I had allowed my past to hold me but my
future to free my thoughts, thus perfecting Isania, the ‘Balance’. I had become
a ‘masterpiece’ to the magical word!” you gloat as Baysoph would like,
extending your arms to the worldless void.
“But that’s never what I was. I never wanted that in the first place. I ran
away – into ‘ the in between’, or as you call it, ‘the void’. I didn’t get lost
here ; I floated in thoughts. What was I? What did I want to be? Well, I wanted
to be a protector in my own way. With that single thought in mind I returned,
much to the old mans tearful delight, and demanded to be given a purpose
besides what they’ve allowed me. Then, they gave me free rain over the world.
It was immense responsibility put onto my shoulders in one fell swoop. I did as
best I could to maintain the world left in my hands – stopping wars,
maintaining peace and helping them grow and prosper globally. Of course, there
were…hiccups. Nothing was perfect, and it never could be. Finally, the world
reached a point of understanding and I backed down. But I had made a mistake. I
had allowed so much of my energy to flow into that world that it too stopped
aging, or atleast greatly slowed it. They were too blessed and proud to oversee
their quickly growing numbers ; they multiplied like fucking rabbits. Food grew
scarce, emotions tensed, the world became smaller as they grew in size and
numbers. I knew why Baysoph had allowed this so easily ; he knew I would fail,
that I would try to idealize a perfect world where there wasn’t crime, where
there wasn’t any hatred spread about.”
“I did what I had to – that world, those people, they were my responsibility
and I had let it get out of hand………I did what I idiotically thought was the
right thing, even though it was the complete opposite of what I had set out to
do. I took no joy in it. I felt nothing. I was, and still am, an emotionless
puppet held together by their strings. I will never have my life. I might as
well have died in that fire.” you hiss, clutching your knees up and burying
your head in complete revulsion.
Why did I bother to talk about this? He doesn’t care. He was trying to kill me
a few moments ago, why the fuck would he care about your life story?! This was
pointless – just like everything else you’ve done.
You internally agreed with your hate filled conscience as you turned to look if
your prisoner was still there. He was. He was staring at you with wide sockets,
but a darkened expression over his facial features. Why did he have to
constantly be so creepy? You manage a weird glare at him in the stilled
silence.
And then he spoke.
“do you believe that even the worst person can change? that everyone can be a
good person if they just try?”
His question throws you, but his serious tone grounds you. It felt like a test.
But you already knew the answer.
“That depends on the person. If they are willing, seeking change for the
better, then yes. Yet some people are incapable of change, of amending what
they’ve done in the past with their future actions. Some just can’t change
their perspective to what others are expecting, or they deceive those willing
to chance it. It would take time, but its doable. Yet, even then, they can
still be judged for whom they used to be…” you reply. You’re both sharing in a
dead-panned stare. His face reads clearly – though he has that constant smile,
its forced and uncertain. Sweat trickles down his skulls and jaw before a
clicking of his teeth sounds out and he plops down into the natural curve of
the barrier, leaning back in comfort.
“for paps, asgore, and the kid……you’d better be one of those who’s willing to
change.” he grunts out, poking at the barriers wall as it slightly molds to the
contact.
“Ha! I’m incapable of change. There’s no returning or redemption waiting for
me. Just a job.” you solemnly reply, slumping back against the unrolling
sphere. Looking inside as the inner sphere slightly rolls to his comforting
movements, he slightly reminds you of a hamster.
“is that what you considered this and everything else you’ve done? a job?” he
hisses in offense.
“Yes. Its more of a contract if anything, but not everyone gets jobs they
enjoy. So far – baby-sitting and training a young mage is the highest on my
nicest job list.” you openly admit, a smile pressing at your cheeks as you try
to imagine the possible bond and happiness you can have for once in your life.
Frisk is different from others and completely capable of breaking down a
defensive emotional shell.
“heheh. didn’t know you were so cruel as to sit on infants.” he chuckles giving
you a lazy stare.
“W-What? When did I say I sa-“ you retort before realization hits you, glaring
at the giggling skeleton. “That’s not funny.” you correct, a deep chuckle
rumbling the inner bubble.
“yes it was. ‘course you can ignore this old bag of bones and continue
skullking.” In utter grief you turn to not give him the satisfaction of your
smile. How could you be smiling at suchterrible puns?
“You’re horrible.”
“i could say the same about you.” he husks out, all emotion drained suddenly.
He must not realize his tone for a moment because he suddenly clears his throat
(what?) and scratches his skull with his phalanges.
“heh..heheh…forget i said that. just being marrow-minded.” You sigh and turn to
him, almost saying something but catching the pun before shrinking the inner
bubble on purpose. He begins squirming, sockets shooting wide as the bubble
caves in. You can hear silent curses under his breathe. At the last possible
moment, you pop the inner bubble, leaving only the last as a final break-off.
As he clatters to the ground, leaning forward he gives you a confused look as
you can’t help breaking into hysteric cackles at the strained focused face. You
tip over, rolling to face away as you clutch your gut, trying to force down the
barrage of giggles that slightly spirals out of your control. Finally taking a
few breaths with huffed laughter, you turn back to him glaring amused
electricity at you.
“that’s just mean.” he comments as you snicker at the knowing tone as he sits
up, maneuvering towards the edge closest to you.
“Oh really? I thought it was quite comical, Sans.”
His eyes lit up in instant amazement, slight flabbergasted but soon pulled over
with excitement. You feel a wave of terrible jokes coming.
“so when’s the jail break? i don’t usually have escape problems but my skeleton
key seems ineffective in here.”
“Really? Skeleton key?” you ask as he gives a unapologetic shrug. His calm
demeanor and his light hearted and awful puns were clear subject suppressors –
Sans seemed like a wise comedian, but not one to dance around tough trivials.
If someone had walked in currently and seen your situation they wouldn’t be the
wiser of how you were both trying to kill each other not even ten minutes ago.
Contemplating the worlds time, you dig out your phone. Batteries dead. Groaning
and refusing to look like an idiot talking to their cellular device, you shove
it back into your pockets.
“know who my favorite singer is?” he asks out of the blue. Glancing at him, his
shit grin has returned and you’ve hardened your defenses.
“Who?”
“pelvis presley.” he chortles as you turn away and cover your mouth. He can
likely tell your cracking as he continues on.
“what do you call a skeletons snake?”
“What?”
“a rattler.”
“Okay that one was just plain awful.”
“hey, some strikes some misses. no sweat – i got a skele-ton more!” he laughs.
The smile is there before you can hide it away in shame.
“whats a skeletons favorite musical instrument?”
Oh, oh we know this one!
“The xylo-bone!” ,” a trom-bone.” you both comment at the same time. Sharing in
confusion, Sans is the first to roll back in giddy laughter as you hold in
snickers to your misfortunate yet comedic wrong answer. After a solid minute or
so of shared laughter, Sans sits up and needlessly wipes nonexistent tears from
his sockets before replying.
“why are you so confident that it’s a xylo-bone?” he asks, a sturdy confidence
carrying through his voice.
“Because you could play your ribs, spine and bones like it was one. You don’t
even need to get a trombone!” you reply much to his amusement as he gives a few
more laughs.
“alright. i will allow this victory to you – but i will win it back. i’m the
punny one in the house. don’t go breakin’ my heart.” he jokes as the lyrics to
that song pop up into your head.
“I couldn’t if I tried…” you return, popping the final bubble as he plops feet
first back to the ground, breathing (?) the thin air in the void. Hiding your
embarrassment for making such a statement, you clear your throat and approach
with a handshake.
“I believe we got off on the wrong foot. For now though, Hi, I suppose I’m
Rea.” you answer, offering your hand. He unpockets his hands and extends one to
shak-
PPPpppfffffttii
You could break his hand with the flush tension springing to your face. Pulling
back your hand, he waves his own giving a knowing wink as he reveals the
attached whoopee—cushion.
“heheheh the old whoopee-cushion in the hand trick. classic. hey there smalls.
the names sans. sans the skeleton.” he tells with a quizzical smile of
curiosity as you hide your face in your hair. You hadn’t seen that coming and
the shame mixing with the childish concoction was more apparent then semen on
root-beer. As he tries to lean down and get a better glance at your hidden
face, you open a tear behind him.
“J-Just gimme back my book by tomorrow y-you numbskull!” you scream with a
heated expression, shoving him backwards onto the living room carpet before
shutting the opening. Widening another, you jump into it and land face first on
your bed, accepting the pillow close to your face in hopes of suffocation.
Commotion and laughter was rumbling downstairs and you wanted nothing more then
for this world to open up and eat you whole.
You were never one for being flustered.
Taking a few moments to gather yourself and take more fever meds, you idle into
the bathroom and settle into a bathtub of bubbles. The bathroom emits the sweet
aroma of eucalyptus and vanilla as you scrub your hair and skin, every so often
peering over into the mirror. You hadn’t changed back into the more human
appearance as the bubbles added more color to your contrasted locks. Leaning
over the edge and resting your head, you remembered the immense power Sans
emitted during the fight. His power and resolve outdid even the kings, but the
king was never one to purely hate humans, so the comparison wasn’t genuine.
Shifting about in the tub and looking over the slightly pink room that you know
you’re going to have to clean, the heated water soaks up the remnants in the
tub, turning the bubbles slightly pink. No longer wanting to share with the
colored blend, you rinse out your hair and stand while it drains. Wrapping a
towel around your body to stop the instant chill from leaving the pleasant
warmth you hover before the mirror, taking in your bizarre appearance. Giving a
light sigh of acceptance, your hair darkens into a kobicha brown as you let
your eyes return to their neon yellow as you absentmindedly run fingers through
the darkened locks. Drying off and rubbing the towel at your scalp, you step
out into your room and see fresh steam radiating off a new bowl of soup.
Toriel was such a blessing. You’ve made probably the worst impression with her
and haven’t come to know he enough, yet with all her distrust in you she still
has the kindness and maternal need to make sick soup. Opening the curtain and
letting the moons glow illuminate the shadowed room, you slip the towel off and
shimmy into light pajamas before taking up the bowl and retreating to your
locked private study. Inside, you relish the cushioned leather of your computer
chair before typing away. Writing up side logs, looking up confidential
analytics about your hosts and guests. Monsters had to undergo light scientific
studies more or less pertaining to information about them, and you had
seamlessly hacked into their database. Nobody would ever know. Scrolling
through, they appear to go in a general order of species and A-Z names.
Skimming over unknown names, you hunt for the familiars. Fiddling around and
expecting Asgores name to first catch your eye, your internally ashamed of your
memory as you nearly bypass little Alphys.
 
--Doctor Alphys Core      Underground Occupation: Royal Scientist           
Current Occupation : Assistant in Astronomy and Bioengineering / Monster
Government Official         Estimated Age : 350+ years
Bio : A rather shy specimen with extraordinary with an adept resourcefulness
and impressive IQ. A short reptilian monster of 4’9” with large bifocals and a
average to height tail. Her teeth impressions provide she is an omnivore,
however no direct age can be applied through the impressions. Aside from her
intelligence and wits, she seems incapable of performing basic magic besides
light electrical zaps. She displays a large love towards animated culture, a
spectrum of sciences, human makings and anatomy, and the Royal Guard of the
Underground – Undyne Waterfall. Her known experiments : Amalgamates, Flowey,
Mettaton. She admitted to assisting King Asgore in extracting six human souls
in order to break the magical barrier sealing Mt. Ebott.
Tabbing out from the information page you question the existence of Flowey. It
claimed him under an experiment and you also agreed how off it was for nothing
but a flower to be a monster. Recalling that contorted face he’d made upon your
known arrival, he was definitely from the Underground but placing his existence
amongst monster kind was odder. It felt……off. Another thing feeling off was the
souls, but you filed that into necessary questioning. Resigning, you scroll not
much farther and happen upon the big fuzzballs information.
--King Asgore Dreemurr                                Underground Occupation:
Ruler / Royalty           Current Occupation : Office Worker / Monster
Government Official                 Estimated Age: 1000+ years
Bio : The king over the land known as the Underground. A large head to toe
height of 7’2” with horns adding up to 7’6”, he is a white furred goat with
yellow hair and beard. He appears to be an omnivore, no age based on teeth
impression. Once father to two children, one biological son and one non
biological daughter from the surface. Previously married/bonded to Toriel
Dreemurr. Upon his offsprings deaths at the hands of humans, he collected human
souls in an attempt to break the barrier. He is a kind hearted old man who has
a large estimated 8’ crimson red trident. His magic ranges from healing, fire,
and causing his trident to uptake orange and blue colors at will. He displays a
large love for his citizens, his family, his friends, tea, a normal family
life, humans, peace, and gardening. He has admitted a list of human law
offenses including multiple murders – first degree, kidnapping, hate crimes,
and disturbing the peace however due to lack of human rights he isn’t currently
being charged and the government is handling the situation. 
Clicking out of the tab, you rub at your face. Fuzzy had quite the plate of
offenses for being such a softy. Now you had to try and give him basic human
rights along with no jail-time. Returning, you jot down the list into a
notebook, putting important information within and also adding Alphys’ name in
despite the lack of dirt. Assuming that all those souls didn’t stumble down
there at the same time and it was over his life span…how could anyone accuse
him of kidnapping.
Frisk.
As soon as your brain thought up the answer you were growling and fidgeting
with your hair. How dare his parents try to claim such crimes when Frisk was
happier and safer with Toriel and Asgore?! This is why you gave up on humans in
the first place. Writing down Frisks parent involvement on a sticky note for
when you pulled up Frisks bio, you proceed on. Your slightly surprised to find
Floweys bio, but it doesn’t prove extremely helpful.
Flowey the Flower          Underground Occupation : Occupant     Current
Occupation : Middle Schooler
Estimated Age: Unknown
Bio : A rather rude and persistent flower barely reaching 1’ in height.
Previous experiment of Dr. Alphys Core. Has control over a varying large set of
thorned/dethorned vines sprouting from the soil around it. It refuses to
display any magic besides the vines. It displays minor likings to the human
ambassador Frisk, Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr, Papyrus Snowdin, and the pain of
others. It has an array of childish offenses from rudeness to threats and
physical abuse against others.
Closing out of the tab you only really learned Flowey is a prick to basically
everyone but Frisk and few friends and family. Unlike other monsters, however,
he takes joy in the pain of others? Never before seeing the weed smile merely
drives the point to his utter world hatred. Moving on, Frisk’s name rests
snugly below his. You gulp before opening the file page.
Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley)                               Underground Occupation:
N/A                Current Occupation : Middle Schooler / Monster-Human
Ambassador              Estimated Age : 10 years
Bio : Human child of about 4’6” who supposedly used the six human souls the
monsters had collected and shattered the barrier. Instantly, they took up role
as the human ambassador and spread word quickly of the monsters existence
bringing immense coverage to their arrival. Though claimed and agreed under the
Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr as their child, Frisk truly belongs to Wyatt and
Ginger Kaffley who currently are pressing kidnapping charges against the
Dreemurrs. A mute child who uses American Sign Language (ASL) for conversation
that most of their guardians are supposedly lingual in. Against all biological
and non-biological parentings, they claim Papyrus and Sans Snowdin as their
‘uncles’, while Undyne Waterfall and Alphys Core are their ‘aunts’. The child
seems to have a love for everything and everyone. Parenting rights have yet to
be determined.
Leaning back in your chair and taking some eat your soup, you bury back into
thought while using your better hand for writing down notes about Frisk. This
child for being so normal was the farthest thing from a normal life. Along with
the information provided you include the likely magical tendencies the child
will have. Frisks information took up nearly two pages of notes. Moving on, you
try to recollect who comes next to return to scrolling and stopping at familiar
names. Next appears to be Papyrus.
Papyrus Snowdin             Underground Occupation : Sentry of the Royal
Guard    Current Occupation : Part-Time School Coach/ Part-Time Florist        
   Estimated Age : 275+ years
Bio : A loud skeleton with a slightly selfish and childish attitude. Standing
at about 6’4”, he previously served under Undyne Waterfall as a sentry in the
Underground on the lookout for humans. Under claim of Sans Snowdin being his
younger biological brother, he prefers the name ‘The Great Papyrus’. His magic
consists of projectile bones, turning the ‘soul’ blue, and being a master of
puzzles and traps. Despite his childish, silly outlook on everything and
‘battle body’ he is strong for his fragile appearance. Skeleton monsters aren’t
comparable to human skeletons : his sockets are smaller, his jaw strangely
attached with nothing besides bone, and he can perform basic expressions
including odd instances of stars forming in his sockets. He appears to be an
omnivore and claims monster food disperses inside jaw and vanishes to create
magic fuel within their ‘soul’. With a wide range of likes and dislikes, he
seems to mostly love flowers, spaghetti, his scarf/cape, his brother, humans,
and his friends. With clear disapproval for his actions he admits to multiple
offenses including attempted murder, assisted kidnapping, and disturbing the
peace. Heavy denials from the rest of the Royal Guard go to Papyrus being
innocent of all charges.
Backing away you can barely believe what you read. That Papyrus triedto kill
someone? Maybe even tried to kill Frisk? You couldn’t understand it well, but
then again you basically understood nothing and would only find out by asking
the correct questions at opportune times. Jotting down the notes, you press on.
Of course next is the comedian himself.
Sans Snowdin    Underground Occupation : Sentry of the Royal Guard / Hot Dog
Vendor / Part-Time Scientist / Momentary Ticket Seller, Telescope Lender, and
Ice Cream Vendor / Comedian / Escort / ‘Judge’ for the King               
Current Occupation : Security Guard / Bouncer / Ice Cream and Hot Dog Vender /
Comedian / Gas Station Cashier / Scientist of Astronomy and Physics / Monster
Government Official       Estimated Age : 325+ years
Bio : A hysterical shorter skeleton at around 5’7” that takes up a multitude of
responsibilities. Constantly sleeping, cracking jokes and puns, or showing
advanced intelligence. Under claim as the elder brother to Papyrus Snowdin, and
‘dunkle’ to Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley). Despite his supposed lazy nature he has a
range of magic abilities from bone projectiles to large animal-skull summons
that shoot matter materialization beams and turning the soul ‘blue’. Very fast
despite his size, very intelligent despite his nature, very untrusting and hate
filled despite his smile. His skeleton make-up greatly differs from Papyrus
Snowdin and a humans : His skull is one piece and upper jaw teeth seem to
instantly connect with the lower jaws; overlapping the set. He appears to be a
omnivore, similar to Papyrus Snowdin as monster food vanishes in jaw and
provides fuel to the ‘soul’. He appears to like Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley), his
friends, his brother, astronomy and other sciences, the sky, ketchup and other
condiments, slippers, and comedy. He admits to charges against him including
assisting murder, assisting kidnapping, and uncertain hate crimes. He also
appears to have PTSD and nightmares with uncontrollable magic instances.
Caution must be used during his sleep stages.
Clicking back to the top, you have to slowly read over all his current
occupations with a bead on concerned sweat trailing through your cleaned hair.
Why was it necessary he have so many jobs? You couldn’t, however, deny the
probability of him having involvement with Asgore in the humans souls capture.
Also, the ‘judge’? PTSD? ‘dunkle’?! Sans’ information easily took up two pages.
Toriel Dreemurr                                Underground Occupation : Co-
Ruler/ Royalty / Keeper of the Ruins         Current Occupation : Middle-
Kindergarten Teacher / Monster Government Official         Estimated Age :
1000+ years
Bio : Previous Queen of the Underground before retreating from the royal
setting and hiding out in the Ruins of the Underground relinquishing her title.
A female goat standing around 6’8” with much smaller horns compared to Asgore
Dreemurr, her divorced/unbonded husband. Mother to a deceased biological son
and non biological daughter. Has claimed parental ownership of Frisk Dreemurr
(Kaffley) and is being equally charged with kidnapping. She is a mostly
maternal woman with high pride, understanding, and sensibility. Her magic
consists of healing and controlled fire. Denying involvement with the murders
of children before-hand that lead to the six souls, she is only being charged
with kidnapping. Her likings range around snails, gardens, baking pies,
friends, family, Frisk Dreemurr (Kaffley), and peace.
While learning little of Toriel, you realize something else. All the souls they
had accumulated……were children? You could hardly imagine Asgore being a child
murderer, but you knew his reasons and his wrath likely propelled him forward
for the time. Refraining from asking too many questions at once you resort to
the final of your known list : Undyne.
Undyne Waterfall            Underground Occupation : Captain of the Royal
Guard                  Current Occupation : Physical Trainer / Police Officer
Trainee / Government Official     Estimated Age: 400+    
Bio : A tough fish-humanoid who doesn’t require water to breath. With blue
scales, a sharp set of teeth, gills and red flowing hair, she can even be
considered a slight beauty amongst humans. Her attitude is strict, rash, and
truthful and she is very physical and constantly angry. Her magic seems to
consist of brute strength and the ability to summon an array of spears into
existence. Her likings include Alphys Core, her friends, Gerson Senior, others
physical abilities, honesty, passion, animated culture, cooking. She has been
charged and admits with assisted murder, hate crimes, and disturbing the peace.
Sighing and leaning back, you drink the rest of your soup quickly, write down
the last of your notes and close from the hacked site while perusing your
options. Turning off your computer you roll over to your realm watcher and
flick through previously attended realms, all left with a beacon so you don’t
return and waste time but allowing you to over-view for any new happenings.
While thinking on the matter you fish out a beacon button that would look like
just any ordinary colorful button and magnetize it to the size of your
computer.
Just in case. You self mutter before returning to the watcher. It resembles a
bigger crystal ball on a large ancient wood pedestal, but the pedestal has an
array of magic symbols similar to a keyboards alphabet. Even if the monsters
managed to get in here, your information was likely inaccessible. Glancing over
the different universes and dimensions you deem nothing is out of place, grab
your bowl, and make your way out the door.
Opening, you are and aren’t surprised that Sans is once again in your room.
However, he looks more surprised to see you coming out of the private study.
Closing it quickly behind you despite false worries, you whisper the
enchantment before quickly locking it up. He slowly returns the book he’d
‘borrowed’ by watching you very curiously. Finally finishing the locks, you
turn back to him whilst holding the keys.
“Oh, finally finished reading that hmm? Awful rude to borrow things without
permission, especially, something so private. Lucky for you and me it’s a
generally boring read. Now you would love to hear what happened in the last one
but I haven’t gotten around to finishing that one so you’re just going to have
to wait.” you coo, placing the bowl down on the table to properly replace the
book he’d left with. He is still watching you intently.
“hiding a skeleton in your closet?” he asks as you groan at the implication
before looking to him. Its only now you realize you have no bra on and the cold
is starting to perk your nipples to the nipping cold. Covering your arms over
your chest in a calm fashion, you scoff at the skeleton.
“A. Its not a fucking closet. B. Theres a reason it’s locked – because I don’t
want you or anyone else in there, so of course I’m not telling you what the
hell is in there. C. Get out now, please.” you drawl, giving a light shooing
motion with your hand as he chuckles while opening a rift.
“sure thing smalls. i can respect your privacy.” he chuckles, disappearing as
it closes.
Says the fucker who stole my log book. Sighing, you stretch and clamor onto the
bed, settling beneath the sheets.
BZSSssZZT-“aaaaah!!”
A small electrical zap along with Sans being thrown from the void that appears
on the studies wall is the implication he tried to sneak in. He sits up, facing
and staring with betrayal at the wall as you giggle quietly.
“What the hell happened to that ‘I can respect your privacy.’ line?! That room
is designed to keep out the persistent pests who would try to snoop. Stop
making yourself look like an idiot and get out.” you chuckle, settling back
down into the warmer blankets. He lets out a few cusses and gruffs before
vanishing back into the void.
You fall back asleep with quite the sense of accomplishment.
***** Time to Feel *****
Chapter Summary
     Our little mage is experiencing feelings that are hindering her work
     and thought process.
Chapter Notes
     Holy hell I'm SO sorry this wasn't dated like I planned!
     I'm sorry. I had ALOT of difficulty writing this chapter!
     I hope its okay Q~Q"
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Awaking with a miserable headache, you grumble and groan as you let yourself
fall with a pleasant thud against the hardwood floor. You accept the light
piercing through your curtains as it dances with colors gleaming across the
floor and continue to lie there, on the floor, like a corpse. You remain in
this position for a few more moments before the cold and harsh grit of the
floor unbending to your form like a mattress finally drives you to sit up,
leaning your head back against the mattress as you gaze up to the ceiling.
Accepting the new day after allowing clarity to roll through your mind, you
properly stretch and begin scanning your dresser for appropriate clothes. You
settle on a dark grey bra and panties, the underwear displaying an Oscar the
Grouch on the back along with the logo “GROUCHY PANTS”. It just felt right.
Slipping on a very soft and comfortable pair of capris and a shoulder sagging
white shading to green t-shirt, you review your bookcase. Now you must take
caution in who can intrude in your room. Giving a quick scan, you deem that
everything is in its rightful place as you glance at the wall clock left
behind. It needed dusting, but you could make out it read it was nearly eleven.
Accepting your fate, you swing open the bedroom door with a stretch, yawn, and
pop of the shoulders before creaking your way down the long set of stairs. On
the way down, you individually take great pleasure in cracking every finger,
your wrists, elbows, ankles, toes. Everything. The tensions and soreness of the
slacked battle that commenced last night still vibrated an energy through your
frame, but it was dulled with the stiffness left behind. The adrenaline had
reduced the pain you’d felt and you were left with nothing but a electric ache.
Shuffling into the kitchen, you prepare toast and eggs, drizzling shredded
cheese and cooked broccoli into the eggs cooking white before making it sunny-
side-up and sandwiching the pleasant meal between two sets of nicely crisp and
buttered toast. The yolk explodes and slightly burns your tongue, though the
overwhelming pleasure multitude dancing over the burning taste-buds drives any
concern from your mind as you take another greedy bite. Glancing over at the
schedule, you realize today Frisk and Flowey will be having a half-day.
Considering the actions from last night, you rather would avoid them. Not
because they hated you – but if Toriel knew, she would likely go on the
defensive. Sitting alone in the barren house far too big for the single
individual, you succumb to doing dumb stuff. Screaming metal songs in order to
charge your phone, cleaning more of the pink from your bathroom while blaring
‘Stolen Dance’, gazing out at the neighborhood in silent judging.
A mere hour passes before the boredom of your situation settles with you as you
catch yourself writing up a separate report journal regarding your current
experiences in this universe. You hide it away in your personal study for
safekeeping and privacy before sighing and contemplating going out into this
world and watching human to monster interactions. Your phone suddenly blares
with a text and you begin scorning Mirage for texting you so out of the blue
until you don’t recognize the number named under Unknown. Curiosity clicks open
the message.
Unknown – Meet me at Little LOL Café at 1:30 P.M.
You had forgotten the ridiculous name, but that was the café/barista shop you
passed by when you first arrived here. Glancing at the clock, it read 1:04 P.M.
The walk to the park was a mere ten minutes but you head out early, ready to
face this faceless threat. You glance over yourself in a hallway mirror,
ensuring your eyes and hair are human enough before making your way downtown.
Arriving at the shop, that cat and alligator you’d glimpsed at from the outside
greeted you in their near perfect unison. The shops walls were white besides
the artistic flowing waves and bubbles of pinks, purples, blues, yellows and
greens dancing about ; adding a vibrancy to the place. For the moment, you
zoned out from the pleasant greeting they provided and glanced around. The shop
was much less lively without an assortment of bustling customers. A few humans
and monsters were scattered about, making pleasant conversation of focused on
their laptops. A blue and red figure waving towards you caught your eye ; it
was Undyne. You calmly approached the table and she held a stern face as you
seated yourself opposite from her before pulling your phone loose of your
pocket and displaying the text.
“You couldn’t just tell me it was you and you wanted to discuss something?” you
quirk at her. You are more relieved it isn’t someone you don’t know yet they
know you. Though her face isn’t screaming with friendly thoughts or emotions.
“I needed t’ talk to you. It doesn’t matter what I put – you’re here.” she
murmurs, looking out the window for a moment before giving you a stern gaze. “I
don’t give a damn what Asgore has to say in defense to you – you are the reason
we were down there in the first place.” she hisses. You instantly realize what
this conversation will consist of.
“I had nothing to do with the creation of the barrier all those years ago. My
ancestor may have cooperated in the war, but not in that sealing. Even then he
sought peace. The war is over. I have come to help, not imprison.” you bite
back at her. She aggressively slams her hand to the table, causing the utensils
to lurch and clatter as she grits her fangs together.
“You think I’m going to just trust your fucking word?!” she screeches. The
majority of the customers are looking at the steaming fish as she glares down
onto you, clear hatred in her eyes. Hearing the clearing of a throat, you both
look over to meet the startled face of a bipedal goat. Not like a faun, just a
goat standing on its hind legs. They had lush eyelashes complimenting the more
unique light blue eyes of a goat. The sideways elongated pupil never really
freaked you out, but the shade of her eyes was light yet deep ; transfixing
even. She sported a pixie pompadour cut that swept bits of yellow at the ends
while her thin but maintained fur coat was a pleasant straw brown. Her face was
similar yet differing from a goat : her snout shortened and her mouth clearly
more mobile as she spoke up.
“H-Hello. What can I get for you uh……ladies?” she seemed confused, as if that
was a proper thing to call you both. You didn’t blame her – you and Undyne
appeared very intimidating and referring to you as a lady just felt indecent.
Looking over to Undyne, she was quick to scour the menu.
“I’ll get the uuh iced coffee with the daily special – hold the fruits.” she
proclaims politely as she hands the waitress the menu. The only menu. You sigh
and catch her crafty grin as you carefully peer past the goats hairdo to sneak
a peak at the cafés menu board.
“I would like the mochaccino along with the bacon egg and cheese omelet.” you
humbly ask as she is quick to jot down the order and scurry off behind the
counter. You can hear whispering as you groan and turn back to Undyne. “You’re
covering my drink, remember?”
“Yeah yeah – that’s the only damn reason I picked this place. Done and over
with.” she grumbles, resting her hand to her chin and staring out the window at
the beautiful day looming outside. You sigh and accept this will likely be how
she treats you for the better portion of your stay.
“Undyne. I am not asking you to trust me with everything. I am asking you trust
me enough that I can just stay upstairs. If you don’t trust Asgore words and
not me, tell me that straight faced right now and I will move out from
upstairs.” you inform. She remains silent yet locks into eye contact with you.
Time flies when you are staring down a potential threat. Eventually, the
succulent smell of espresso mixed perfectly with steamed milk and chocolate
approaches as the goat is quick to drop off your little brunches and take off
back behind the counter. You don’t waste much time as you eagerly sip the
sweetened chocolate mixture. It is sincere bliss as you release a grateful
sigh. Undynes order consisted of a generous stack of pancakes along with
chopped hash browns. She was salivating as you both quietly at your food for a
few more minutes.
“I ain’t kickin’ you out.” she groans, cheeks stuffed as she is still chewing
down a large bite of the hash browns. “I fuckin’ should. I should gut and kill
you. For the past crimes of all the mages, death seems merciful.” she hisses,
glaring down at the plate with her one good eye. Swallowing her mouthful, she
continues, “I wasn’t there for it. But I know you need to be here. I can’t
protect them. Asgore tells me its pointless, any other mages are too strong. Do
you haveany idea how fuckin’ ridiculous my circumstance is? I’m a guard, yet I
can’t protect anyone!” she beats her fist squeezing her fork to the table, the
remaining silverware giving a frightened clatter. She manages to withhold her
yelling as only a few take notice to the commotion. Before replying, you take
another satisfied sip of your drink.
“I know what it’s like. To be unable to protect something or someone, to feel
weak. I still am weak and inexperienced in more ways than one.” you admit,
setting your cup down gingerly as you intertwine your fingers together,
squeezing your palms together for stability. “My parents, my people, my world?
I let them all down. In my ranks I am not the wisest, the strongest, nor the
fastest. Merely well rounded. The only thing making me differ, making me
valuable, is what I can reach and control.” you relay, tightening your grip in
self-spite. You allow a moment of silence to pass between you before you give
her the most sincere yet serious stare you can that aches of fear.
“I cannot promise anything. I cannot promise I will be able to protect them. I
cannot promise things will only get better. I cannot promise many things
Undyne, including being able to train Frisk, avoid the THC, keeping these
‘Black Hearts’ under lock and key, maintaining the barriers, and not becoming
human and monster public enemy number one!” you growl, aggravated by the
increasing list of responsibilities, “On top of that I need to ascertain your
basic rights, keep an agenda on everyone, control my and Frisks magical
release, get an actual job likely, and just…just-“ you cut off for a moment to
run your hands through your hair and pressurizing against your scalp. You never
took medication for the increasing headache bothering you. You shake it off and
relinquish all troubling thoughts.
“I just can’t do it all. Don’t you dare feel like you aren’t protecting someone
– there doesn’t need to be only one protector. “you finalize before eating
through some of your omelet. The suspicious silence from the fishes end
concerns you, and looking up you are met with a very confused face. You grumble
and swallow harshly, having to sip a generously provided water to avoid choking
before making it clearer.
“You are not useless. You are a fine protector. I will require your assistance
in ensuring everyones safety.” you dismally add to that speech. She leans
across to punch you directly in the shoulder as she cackles with excitement.
You can’t hold the wincing hiss of air ; the punch will likely leave a bruise
later as you tenderly hover over the impact zone.
“Don’t go tryin’ to butter me up, you magic punk! I agree to helping protect
them, but I don’t agree to trusting you! Ya gotta earn that!” she barks while
looking utterly full of herself. You force a laugh and the both of you finish
off your meals. Disheartened by the vanishing act of your mocha, Undyne wagers
something.
“I’ll buy you another drink if we talk strategy and what to expect.” she
bargains. You immediately glow to the possibility of a refreshed beverage and
nod without hesitation. A few minutes later, you are happily sipping the warm
drink that sends little electrical buzzes through your mind before placing it
down and looking to Undyne “What the hell are we dealing with outside our
home?”
“Your only honest threat is Zebbulon. He is a more physical based mage but his
attacks can be lethal. He specializes in flame and lightning magic that he can
use from a distance.” you shudder.
“That bad?” Undyne inquires as you give a concerned nod.
“Physical based magic is more about touch – a force meeting another force.
However, Zeb is capable of using his physical attacks as projectiles. He
doesn’t need to be up close and personal. He could set a village on fire from a
mile away.” you summarize as Undyne clearly isn’t looking forward to facing
this ruthless foe.
“B-But we got you, me, Asgore, hell maybe even Sans!” she replies with a list
of the boss monsters ready to defend. You shake your head.
“Undyne. I can hardly take on Zebb. He was one of my teachers when I first
began to display my magic. He knows every trick in my book. He can out-power
me. He can out-speed me. Hell, if he focused, he could likely take complete
control of the battle. I would be dead in an instant. Drawing you guys into
such a fight would only end in dust.” you finalize, hanging your head lower to
the table as you take another sip.
“Then what the fuck are we supposed to do if he or anyone else shows up?!” she
demands.
“Well, the good news nobody else should show up. Baysoph and Zebbulon are the
only others, besides me, who are capable of void traversing. Should anyone else
attempt it they would be lost forever or likely go insane by the time they
managed their way back. Baysoph is away on business but is too old and silly to
both coming either way. Thusly, Zebbulon is the only real threat. But, he will
know eventually…” you admit as you rub your eyes.
“How the hell would he know if we keep the mouths and magic shut?”
“Because I have to report to Baysoph about everything when he returns to
business.” you mutter.
“You would betray us?!” Undyne barks, reaching across to grab the collar of
your t-shirt, threatening to spill the sight of your dark grey undergarments to
the store.
“I don’t have a choice! He knows when I am lying or leaving something out – I
can’t just not speak of it!”
“Whats the worse that could happen!?”
“Eternal imprisonment as nothing but a breeder!!” you shriek back, grabbing her
shirt in reply as she looks at you in confusion. You catch yourself and let her
go. She follows suit and allows you to grumble back into your seat. The silence
doesn’t catch.
“A breeder?”
“Shut up. Not a word.” you growl as you crumple your legs up like a child and
nestle in close to hide away from the world around you.
“I don’t think that’s something you just mention and skip.” she argues.
“It’s not even related to the topic on hand, so yes, we are skipping it.”
“For now.” she raises and eyebrow before finishing off her iced-coffee. You
sigh and await that conversation, but right now you must retain your focus.
“So what will happen if this Zebbulon guy hears about Frisk?”
“Well, he will approach this universe. I don’t know anything besides him taking
Frisk back to the THC. He could go about on a killing spree. He could imprison
me here should he get the chance, or the balls.” you mutter as you continue to
drink your chocolate delight. Undyne snickers quietly to your de-manning
complaint before a catchy anime tune plays off her phone. Sliding out her
phone, she swipes through to read her messages and gives a sigh.
“Welp. Frisk got out early and went home with Papyrus and Tori. Frisks asking
for ya to head back before Tori has a heart-attack about you vanishing. “ she
grumbles as she fumbles for her wallet.
“Oh no. I would hate to get her goat.” you reply, standing and giving a popping
stretch. Undyne glares at you with regret.
“Make that joke again and you’re the one whos going to be paying.”
“With what? I am broke. I will work on that, but right now I gotta head back.
What ‘bout you?” you ask while ensuring everything you brought remains with
you.
“Eehh. Was my lunch break. Gotta get back to the gym.” she scoffs, though she
is clearly excited.
“Need a lift?” you give her a sly wink with the offer.
“Hell no! I know what Sans does – I ain’t getting in your space, or ‘that’” she
barks as she waves you off, paying at the register as she darts out the door.
You follow, refusing the easy transport of the void to instead travel on foot
and ponder. Review your options. But there are hardly a wide vary of options to
choose from : protect Frisk and monsters from literally everything. No biggie.
Clicking open the front door, you are met with distant concerned noises and
blabber. Walking towards the kitchen, the conversation catches your ears.
“I-I’ve looked everywhere Asgore but she is nowhere in the house nor left any
message of her departure-“SMALL MAGE, THIS HIDE-AND-SEEK GAME HAS UNFAIR
RULES!!” “Papyrus, please!”
Making haste to the kitchen, Toriel is fiddling with the houses phone cord
while she paces about and Papyrus is looking behind hedges in the backyard with
Frisk. You immediately clear your throat as she spins around and visibly
relaxes her frame.
“She’s home. I-I’m sorry to trouble you……Yes…Ye-No. No I have to hang up. Have
a good day. Yes. Bye.” she finishes and hangs up, taking an easy breath before
ruffling her ears and giving you a stern motherly stare. “Where have you been?”
“Undyne asked me quite literally last minute out to a café for her lunch
break.” you admit while giving her a coy shrug.
“Did you use any magic?”
“No. Does this mean I get a gold star?!” you fake your enthusiasm. Though, she
pulls out a little packet of stickers from her teachers jacket and plants one
right on your forehead. You give her a annoyed gaze though you had
technicallyasked for it and she got a little snicker out of it before pressing
the sinks window to the outside open.
“Papyrus, Frisk! Rea is home!” she calls out as their heads swivel in surprise.
Moments later, they are both bounding and bouncing inside. Only now do you
catch that Frisk had been forcing Flowey to assist in hunting you down. The
tiny monster hasn’t muttered many words to you, just an ongoing indecisive
stare. 
‘Where were you?’ Frisk signs excitedly as you peel the star sticker off your
head and Toriel warily returns to the stovetop preparing something.
“I was uh…on the roof?” you lie, hoping to not have to answer a billion
questions about what you and Undyne spoke about.
“BUT I CHECKED THE ROOF; YOU WERE NOWHERE TO BE SEEN!!” Papyrus cuts in,
stumped confusion on his face. He checked for you on the roof?!
“I was above the roof Papyrus.” you give a knowing wink to Frisk. You can
practically see the sparkles forming in both of their eyes.
 “YOU CAN LEVITATE?!” Papyrus gasps and shrieks as you offer him the shiny
star. He nearly puts it on himself before he reconsiders and sticks it onto one
of Floweys petals for his assistance. The flower hisses in agony as he can’t
pry the shiny stick film from his form.
“I’d call it more or less flying but, yeah, sure.”
‘I wanna fly!!’ Frisk signs and tugs on your arm, begging. You instantly look
to Toriel and she clearly doesn’t approve of the activity.
“Maybe another time lil’ man. When you’re a little more trained and prepared,
with, of course, your parents permission?” you inquire, sparing a glance to a
grateful Toriel who returns to her work. Frisk obviously loses some of his
enthusiasm on the matter and drags Papyrus and Flowey off to videogames while
you lag behind with Toriel. The awkward looming silence wafts over as she
begins whisking a cream. The tension finally stops as she speaks up.
“I appreciate you refraining from using or displaying your magic around Frisk.
I hope you understand that I just……I want nothing to happen to that child.
Frisk has been nothing but happiness and a blessing since we took him in.” she
speaks out, you listening to her. A mirthful smile cast into deep memories
spreads across her cheeks.
“It’s no doubt that kid is nothing but pure pleasantries. I will try and keep
‘im outta reach of the more ‘sinister’ technicalities of his abilities, but
Toriel………I can’t keep him away from discovering who he is. I can try and
‘redirect’ his path, but if he is more physical based then magical…there isn’t
much I can do besides teach him how to control those emotions.” you admit as
you both share in a solemn silence.
“Can you explain exactly what that entails? I-It would be best to understand
what Frisk will be going through.” she decides, removing her oven mitts as she
slips the mixture into a mold and into the set stove.
“Sure, do you mind me quickening the explanation are you a detail demander?”
you inquire as she gives a confused yet soft giggle before seating beside you,
leaving plenty of personal space for you to work.
“I don’t mind a quick explanation so long as I am permitted questions.”
“Deal.” you swivel yourself around to face her and create the sign for ‘The
Meeting’. “This is a respected sign to mages – it is ‘The Meeting’; the fist
represents the human aspect of our physical endurance, willpower, and strength.
The space represents the magic aspect of our spiritual endurance,
lightheartedness, and freedom. Those capable of connecting these, forming ‘The
Meeting’ ,are capable magicians.” you start off, giving Toriel a moment to
process the information before moving on.
“Within each magician are three pools of magic. Usually, depending on the
behavior and feelings of a mage, they tend to lean more towards a physical or
magical existence. The magical pool, named Serenity, is the easiest pool and
likely Frisks main focus during this training. Serenity is basically fueled by
positive emotions and memories. It’s being relaxed but concentrated. With
Frisks often positive outlook on non-positive subjects, it’s a fitting
category. Since he is a trainee, I instructed him to let it flow through to his
fingertips Hopefully the training will be helpful and he could even be capable
of healing with enough practice. But, I suppose his curriculum is up to me,
you, and Asgore.” you sigh as she gives a stern nod. Wouldn’t want it any other
way.
“The second pool is Venom, representing the more physical base of the magician.
It’s pent up negativity and miserable emotions that is let loose like a wine
cork. Venom feeds off that animosity – that negative feeling and crackles it
through the system like a shot electrical circuit. It’s simple to learn for
those who seek destruction. The movements are more jagged, predatory even, for
you need to let that dismal lightning through you, and if you don’t properly
give it an erratic path, you can……pop.” you make a little explosion detail with
your hands as Toriel watches with increasing concern.
“Pop? What do you mean?”
“Pop. He will literally pop. Say something terrible happened and he became
erratic and so angered by it. If he doesn’t control that feeling, without
proper training, his energy would explode out of him, causing mayhem and
destruction to anything within the range of release. The range of release is
based off the energies build-up. Say someone has been flicking him in the nose
and it irritated him enough to pop – it likely wouldn’t discharge far and it’s
such a pathetic reasoning it likely wouldn’t do much besides cracks in the wall
and car alarms. Now – say someone has been bullying him for months on end and
he has just let that feeling build and build inside him until suddenly it
erupts when he least expects it. That will reach father and do much more harm
to his surroundings.” you reply to her quickly as she squeezes her hands
together. She obviously disapproves of the training of such a chaotic power,
but you also know it is necessary training to prevent such an accident from
occurring.
“And what of the third pool?” she asks, trying to jeer of the unpleasant
subject. However, it doesn’t really work.
“Frisk won’t be reaching the third pool. He isn’t capable.” you shoot down her
question, turning way to fumble with your thumbs. Toriel doesn’t like that
half-assed answer.
“What do you mean he isn’t capable?”
“He isn’t capable. He won’t be reaching that pool. It’s just out of his reach.”
you defend.
“And how would you know?”
“Because I am his mentor in magical training and he isn’t qualified to reach
it.” you were getting a bit louder, but you had to in-order to out volume
Toriel.
“So what would he need to do to qualify?” Toriel is becoming defensive over
Frisk suddenly being incapable of doing something. She doesn’t know what she is
speaking out about.
“Hey, if your fine and peachy with him killing you all, he can qualify!” you
bark back, standing abruptly in an attempt to glare down at her. They chair
made you slightly taller as you know look up to her horrified face.
“W-…Wha-“ she tries to babble but you growl over her.
“In order to reach the third pool, you need to completely cut off any love in
your life. Permanently. Loved your parents? Gotta axe ‘em. Fell in deep love
with another? Not allowed! Got any really close and dear friend? What friends.
He would need to destroy it all from him. To reach the third pool would require
the breaking of Serenity and the overflow of Venom. A force pooling. Once its
done, it isn’t reversible.” you grumble, falling back into your chair as you
let the words sink in, how she pieces together how you mastered all three
pools. You don’t let her get a word in once you catch the recognition in her
eye.
“It wasn’t on purpose if you plan to accuse me of murder, though it might as
well. I popped. I got them killed because I didn’tcontrol my emotions. I refuse
to let Frisk go through that.” you snarl before walking out to the backyard.
Your headache continues to strive and the moments tension is riling you up to
unsafe points.
Moments turn to minutes and minutes turn to hours. You hardly are aware of your
meditation time until you let yourself blink back to the reality and notice
it’s the dead of night. A light illuminates the house with laughter inside as
everyone is gathered around the dinner table. Before you is a covered plate of
food still piping hot, a blanket around your shoulders and keys for the
backdoor. Looking at the dining room window you can clearly make out Undyne and
Toriel, Papyrus and Asgore likely off at the sides and everyone else too short
to peer from the window at your current angle.
That’s what you gave up. You’re sitting out here like an emotional ass while
everyone you should be getting along with is inside getting chummy and still
treating you with enough respect.
But you know better.
Clutching at your shirt, you feel your heartbeat to solidify your life is still
within your own grasp. You are the only one who can change that. They helped
Frisk. They seemed willing to help you. Despite the threats, the complaints,
the fighting, the doubts : they still provided food and warmth regardless.
Likely just how monsters are…
But perfection comes at a price. Growing closer will only effect you more.
Sighing, you accept the dish. It’s actually delicious, then again you hardly
doubted Toriel. Finally stretching and stiffly rising onto your feet, you let
your back pop in irritation before leaning down to carry your finished plate
inside. Toriel and Alphys are busy at washing the dishes as Alphys visibly
jumps to your entrance. Before you can apologize or back down (though you had
done nothing besides walk in) Alphys scurries off, claws still dripping with
suds as she shuffles into the living room.
You sigh, approaching the sink and dumping any scraps into the trash below
before plopping it beneath the bubbles, resting your head against the counter
as Toriel merely watches. Her face is a struggle of emotions and words. How do
you fix this awkward air?
“I’m sorry………about before. About everything I suppose. I just…have screwed up
everything since I have been here.” you start, Toriel giving you time to speak,
“It’s just the past is…touchy subject.” you mumble, looking at your palms and
caressing the creases absentmindedly. “Hell I have hardly spoken a word to her
and Alphys is petrified of me.”
“That’s well….that’s not entirely your fault. Alphys is just very shy. Very
cautious.” Toriel tries to explain as you opt to helping fish around in the
sink for items requiring cleaning. The suds are blocking all form of vision.
“She’s cautious because I’m a mage…” its less of a question and more of a
knowledged statement. Toriel merely heaves a sigh as she accepts to drying the
dishes. You’re honestly surprised with the amount of trust you’ve earned with
Toriel over these last few broken days. The sound of the TV playing in the
other room along with giggles and groans thumps something inside you that had
once been so foreign. You need to take a moment to still your heart, the
agonizing jumping is leaving you breathless. Toriel believes you to be having a
heart-attack as she is quick to reach out to both of your shoulders to help
support you against the counter. You can’t help forming a frustrated fist that
shakes with hatred. When had you become so weak?
“Rea? Are you alright?” Toriel sweetly asks as you look up to meet her eyes. A
mothers face. One eager to help, fix problems, be there for her children. Its
slightly overwhelming.
“Frisk can’t be a mage.” you practically beg, letting your head hang low.
“But you were the one who agreed to train him.”
“Toriel.” you reply, looking to her with a pained face. You finally knew what
this feeling was. The loss was catching up with you at the least opportune
time. “Mages have to give up their families, regardless of their love for them.
Frisk strives off that, it’s what fuels him. His family. That’s what makes him
different than the rest of us……and that’s for the best.” you chuckle, grasping
at your forehead in frustration.
“Why are you speaking of this now?” Toriel pleads, kneeling down to look into
your face.
“Because I’m letting myself get sentimental and mushy. If I let myself attach
to you guys, even slightly, it will screw me over in the end.” you retaliate,
trying to shove her arms from your shoulders. Hold it together…
“But you could thrive from it. Like you say Frisk does.” Toriel replies, giving
such a pained sweet grin to you as she rubs your cheeks. When had you let
yourself tear up? This was detestable.
“But I-I’m not Frisk. I’m a murderer, a threat, I don’t even exist here!
Forming an attachment will only hinder me an-and my job is to only protect you
guys. I am supposed to be heartless. I am supposed to be in control! If I l-let
myself accept emotions like this i-inside then I-“ you stutter incoherently
while your anxieties turn into aggression. Toriel cuts your talk short as she
pulls you into a soft embrace. You didn’t remember ever getting such a warm,
willing, loving hug.
These monsters hate you. Don’t let their actions deceive you. They only keep
you here as a bodyguard. You are nothing but a hardened shell. You aren’t meant
to feel.
“But you and Frisk are both human.” Toriel sighs as she clutches your back,
slightly tighter but you are in no place to complain as you merely remain
frozen in place against the warmth waving off her incredibly smooth fur. “You
are both human. You feel fear. You feel agony. You feel love. It’s a natural
response, a natural expression with emotions and truth. Don’t deny it. You have
saved my mate and child in your short stay. Despite all the opportunities to
turn around and betray us, you have stuck beside this nutty family against
everything you know. That takes great courage and an even greater heart. To own
up to your mistakes in the past and change them for a better future.” She
encourages, giving you back some space as she offers you a tissue.
“Tori is right.” comes a deep voice as you flinch around to Asgore standing
confidently as he walks in. You furiously wipe at your eyes, embarrassed with
your hot tears spilling out so casually. Damn them both! Asgore gets a kick out
of you appearing so defenseless as he ruffles your hair. You smack his hand
away as he merely laughs it off, Toriel snickering as you give him an agitated
glare. Little feet tap into the kitchen before pounces around your leg. You
stumble slightly as you try to playfully pry the child from your leg. He
nuzzles into your thigh, his hair slipping underneath your shirt and tickling
your stomach. Realizing the proper people are finally alone you clear your
emotional pallet and lean down to rub Frisks back.
“You told your parents yet?” you ask as he tenses up. He clearly avoided it.
“Frisk…” you growl as he tries to flee. Nabbing his sweater, you lift him
helplessly into the air. “You told me you would talk to them about your
problems and your past. I will even be there if it makes you feel better!” you
comply as Frisk tries to curl into himself like an armadillo or a pill-bug.
“Its alright Rea. Please. Frisk – you don’t need to tell us now if that will
make you feel better but……but please realize. Me and…and your father will be
here whenever you need us.” Toriel whispers, taking the child up into her
cradling arms as Asgore accepts just petting his head.
‘I will talk about it. Its better to do it now then later.’ he signs as
everyone moves to a new, more quarantined sun-room. Asgore settles the child
into his lap while he and Toriel sit against a fluff couch. The large windows
supply excellent light for the array of herbs and flowers potted within. You
slide over a chair, willing to offer any assistance.
“Frisk. If you aren’t comfortable with explaining it yourself, I can sneak a
peek at your past.” you whisper, wisping your fingers to let little flecks of
magic glow of the ends as Frisk gives a knowing nod before speaking directly to
their souls. A few minutes later, Toriel is practically choking Frisk in a hug
while Asgores silent wrath could drill a hole into the moon. Frisk seems unable
to continue, climbing into your lap despite Toriels neediness.
“How far did he make it?” you silently question before Asgore clears his
throat.
“The uh…the hitting.” he snarls out the last word. You hardly blame him. Toriel
visibly jumps to the mere word as she grits her teeth, desperate to relieve the
growing aggression inside. Planting your hands besides Frisks ears, you focus
all of your attention into delving into his past. What he went through. The
pain and abuse of his prior family. It nearly comes like a flipbook as you
watch through Frisks eyes.
The words are muffled, the images distorted to the unclear memory. Things are
being thrown – his parents are bickering. You can feel his helplessness as he
takes a little backpack and flees the home. Directly to Ebott. You watch him
fall, encounter Flowey, Toriel. Eating pie, naps, stories of snails. Having to
move on despite the desperation in Toriels voice. The sincerity of that hug.
Sans being Sans, Papyrus being a nutball. Dating Papyrus? Having to fight
despite their friendship that only grows from the mercy given. Fleeing a
barrage of spears from none-other then Undyne. Sans whisking Frisk away
mysteriously quick to far-off locations in the bat of an eye (likely his ‘void’
movement). That threat. It sends a chill through you. Becoming friends and
cooking with Undyne, calling her and Papyrus over the phone. A lonely ghost
with snails? Alphys hiding inside her lab. A weird…calculator using an over
exaggerated comedy show-host voice. This array of shows and odd fights. Pink
heels and metallic hair? You steer clear of whatever that mess was. Alphys is
dating Frisk now? In……a trash dump? Undyne and Alphys getting together.
Everyone being spared and Asgore wanting to take Frisk in. Everyones there.
Everyones happy. Flowey. Flowey. FLOWEY. “I will save him. I am deteremined to
save him.”. A mere memory, but everything is so much more vivid,
lively………happy. You understand Frisk a slight bit more, despite the invasion of
privacy as you retract from his thoughts as the monsters see the sun.
“Frisk had abusive parents. Uncaring and regretting having a mute child.
Honestly, some humans are the literal scum of the planet. Easily aggravated
with Frisks extra needs, ignoring his positivity. He ran away from home. Back
then, there was a rumor. That whoever neared Ebott would disappear
forever……people assumed they perished on Ebott……Frisk went there for that
purpose.” you clarify as Toriel is quick to sweep Frisk from your grasp and
begin planting loving kisses across his tear stained cheeks. Asgore soon joins
the embrace as they both whisper and smother Frisk. You can hear the saddened
honesty of his soul.
‘I’m sorry…I-I’m sorry…so-so sorry’
“Shhh child, you’re safe now…” Toriel whispers, humming a little tune as
everyone tries to settle down. This is obviously a private moment for the
family, and you excuse yourself from the room. You almost think you hear Asgore
mumble ‘thank you’ before you silently shut the door. Shrugging it off, you
pass an exhausted Papyrus as he slumps against the wall, yawning. Looking to
the time, its clearly past Frisks bedtime which was supposedly Papyrus’
bedtime. What was he doing awake? Why did you care? Regardless, you approached.
“Papyrus?”
“HM…A-AH!! REA! HOW ARE YOU THIS EVENING?” Papyrus asks enthusiastically,
though you can see he is straining to stay awake against the wall.
“I could be better. What are you doing up at this hour?” you ask curiously as
he gives a sigh, looking to the clock.
“W-WELL…SANS HAD BUSINESS TO ATTEND TO.” is all he merely replies with. You
wait a moment, expecting more.
“What does Sans have to do with when you can sleep?” you finally ask with a
groan. He begins fidgeting.
“WELL FOR A BEDTIME STORY OF COURSE!!” he clarifies. You look to him in
bewilderment.
You cannot be serious with me here…
You gaze back at proud and pure sockets.
Dear fuck he is serious. Sighing, you rub your temples.
“Well Papyrus. Sans wouldn’t want you losing sleep just because he isn’t here
to read you your story. He obviously cares. How ‘bout I read you a story?” you
offer. Papyrus takes a moment to think but excitedly nods.
“VERY WELL SMALL MAGE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM HONORING YOU WITH THE DUTY OF
BRINGING FORTH DREAMLAND! BE IN MY BEDROOM IN 5 MINUTES FRIEND!! NYEHEHEHEH!”
he laughs abruptly before using the last of his energy to burst through the
main house to the side portion belonging to the skeletons. Heating a glass of
milk for yourself, Alphys and Undyne have also already retreated to their
housing. You hadn’t had much to any time to speak to the small dinosaur, but
you likely would get the chance eventually. Striding through one of the
connecting doors you enter a much smaller kitchen with a sink you can hardly
reach. The stovetop is burnt slightly and as you make your way through the home
you notice a table with a box on it. Inside the box is a rock covered in
sprinkles. You don’t question the skeletons hobbies. Their living room is large
: a nice dark teal carpet covering the entirety, a wall mounted plasma TV, a
funky couch that looked oddly comfortable but had clear use abuse indents
hidden well by pillows and blankets. An array of photos of the monster group
and other things involving the skeletons and their friends are assorted along
the wall as you ascend the staircase. Flipping through your phone, you
miraculously come across one of your old favorites : ‘A Long Long Letter’.
Dubbing it worthy of the sleepy skeleton, you give a bewildered knock against
the first door you find ; it is adorned with security tape, multiple ‘PLEASE
KNOCK’ and other warning signs as you carefully knock.
“COME IN!!” Guess it was the right door. Opening the door, you enter a room
that clearly only belongs to Papyrus. You can hardly take it all in at once,
its an array of objects compiled into one room. A computer set to a lone social
media site. A box of bones labelled “memories”. A purple rug with flames at the
ends, design flickering inward. A complete shelf chock-full of stories,
manuals, board games and puzzles. An entire dining table with a impressive
collection of action figures. A fucking race-car bed. Papyrus snuggled settled
underneath the beds covers with a unnecessary nightcap. He has flaming bone
PJ’s and is sitting pleasantly in eager waiting for you, pulling over a stool
quick and tapping it anxiously. You’re too struck with confusion to even
question his choices and just meander over to the stool and settle back.
“I, uh…wasn’t aware you had your own little…collection of books. I brought one,
but its pretty simple…if you want I can just grab on-“ you begin gesturing to
the shelfs collection but Papyrus waves it off.
“THAT’S FINE! A NEW STORY WOULD BE NICE TO HEAR! IT WILL BE A DIFFERENT CHANGE
OF PACE FROM FLUFFY BUNNY!!” he enthuses, slipping under the covers as he
brings them to the base of his jaw, uncovered hands gripping the sheet with
thrill as he watches you pry open the old book and clear your throat. Been a
while since you read anyone to sleep like this before.
“Alright. ‘The Long Long Letter’, by Elizabeth Spurr.” you speak up, crediting
the proper author before opening the pages and displaying them to Papyrus. It’s
a storybook afterall. You even designate voices!
“My mother got a postcard from Aunt Hetta. It read: Sister dear, don’t you owe
me a letter? She received a second message: I’ve had no mail for a dog’s age! A
third – in bold calligraphy – said : Have you quite forgotten me?”
“ “Land o’ lovin’,” sighed my mother.“Why, just last month I wrote her. Poor
woman must be lonely, way out there in the boonies. With no kith nor kin to
care for, she has too much time to fret. I’d better write a long, long letter –
one she will not forget!””
“My mother sat down at her pine-topped desk to write. With a fine plumed pen
she looped and scrolled, morning, noon, and into night. She badly burned the
dinner. It was a long, long letter.”
“She wrote through fall and winter, into spring, and summer. The days grew
warmer, longer. I grew taller, stronger. It was a long, long letter.”
“She wrote of cabbages and crocuses, sausages and shoes. The newly born, the
price of corn, the cranking phone she’d never use! Of darning socks and
scouring pots, broken clocks and knitting knots. She wrote of all the chores
she had no time to do – thanks to the long, long letter.”
“One day after breakfast she said, “Let us mail the letter. There’s still so
much to tell her, but I’ve no more ink nor paper.” We put the letter into boxes
and hauled it in a wagon We gave it to the postman, who stuck a thousand stamps
on. It was a long, long letter.”
“On the way to the train station a whirlwind came from nowhere. It whipped the
tops right of the boxes. Swoosh! went Aunt Hetta’s letter. Whoosh! The pages
scattered. It was an all-gone letter.” you take a moment to breathe, clearing
your voice. Papyrus is clearly intense at the stories twist as you give him an
innocent smile, forging on.
“Aunt Hetta live a crooked mile from the town of Neverbee. The townsfolk rarely
passed her way much less passed the time of day with tea and friendly chatter.
And none had sent a cheery word by way of card or letter. She was a lone, lone
Hetta. By her mailbox sat Aunt Hetta. She sat in her carved rocker, with a
pocketful of crackers and a pot of peanut butter. She rocked and watched around
the clock from Monday until Sunday – waiting for the pleasure of a letter from
my mother.”
“She rocked in fall and winter, through the spring and summer. The days again
grew shorter, but there was no long, long letter. She pleaded with the post-
man, “Just a small one or a thin one?” How she longed, longed, longed for any
letter.”
“She ate peanut-buttered crackers to kill the pangs of hunger, but her heart
still ached and hungered for a letter. Where was the missive from her sister?
How could it has missed her? She’d kept a hawk’s watch on the mailbox since a
year ago September!” Papyrus looks intrigued by the illustration of Aunt Hetta
literally turning into a hawk munching on crackers atop her mailbox.
“December’s storm clouds gathered. Aunt Hetta watched and shivered. The wind
howled loud and bitter. The dark skies dumped a blizzard. It was the wrong,
wrong weather to sit waiting for a letter. In her frigid shawl Hetta hudled,
bone chilled and befuddled.-“ Before you can continue, you catch the pun as
Papyrus gives an alarmed groan but urges you to continue. “White flakes danced
around her; soon all was covered over. Mailbox. Rocker. Peanut butter. And, of
course, Aunt Hetta.”
“All was silent. All was still. Then slowly, from a whitened hill, peeked the
head of – yes – Aunt Hetta. She was beaming like the sun and staring cross-eyed
at her letter!”
“One evening over tea my mother read to me a fat, fat letter from Aunt Hetta :
 You might say that I have been a bit under the weather. I thought it was a
snowstorm. But it was your “airmail” letter! Such a long, long letter. The town
was in a dither. It took three days together, with snowplows and a tractor. I
am told the ‘midst the rumpus the postman said “Great Zeus’s thunder! What’s
become of Hetta Pinkus? She was sitting by her mailbox. She must be six feet
under!”
“Through the vineyards, through the groves, the townsfolk rushed in droves.
Headed by the doctor – and followed by the preacher – a posse of emergency was
coming out to rescue me! Plain to see, ca-tas-tro-phe draws good folks
together. I felt like a ce-leb-ri-ty, instead of a non-entity. Like looked a
lot, lot brighter!”
“I said “Thank you!” to the rescue team. “Your concern is quite flattering. But
I’ve suffered no great harm. My sister’s letter kept me warm.” As the townsfolk
shoveled, the postman winked and chuckled, “That’s what I’d call writing up a
storm!””
“Fifty children stacked the pages (you forgot to number). They piled them in
the haymow, stored them in the silo. They filled the springhouse and the mill,
the granary and the still. It was a long, long letter. I planned to sit down
with your letter, catch up on the news. But in the dis-com-bob-u-la-tion of my
recent situation, I have lost me spectacles.”
“I cannot read your long, long letter! Fifty children have been rummaging
through attic, house, and cellar, looking for my glasses. But perhaps it
doesn’t matter…”
“…for now I have one hundred eyes! But, best of all, I re-al-ize this town is
filled with caring friends. I’ll never feel alone again – thanks to your long,
long letter.” Shutting the book with a proud thud, you stretch your neck from
craning to read and show the illustrations to Papyrus. He, however, had drifted
off into a sleep, muttering ‘nyehs’ under his breath. Pleased with yourself,
you leave the old book on the stool as a form of donation to his little
collection. You don’t know what strives you to do it, but you push tuck Papyrus
into the sheets while he returns confused but grateful wiggles to the warmth
sticking around him like a little cocoon. Giving another stretch, you reach
over to the door while flicking the lights off in Papyrus’ room. You’d hardly
noticed the shadows looming within beforehand.
“Night ya little weird-bones.” you whisper, easing out the door and shutting it
as silently as possible before heading off to your own sleep.
…
…
…
……snrrrkkk.
Sans steps out from the shadows of his brothers room, trying to remain quiet
still as he looms over his dormant brother. It took a lot of willpower to not
break into hysterics. The book was making puns for him! The way you read was
ridiculous but sweet in its own way. Papyrus was utterly enraptured with your
performance despite the absence of the usual brother. He’d felt terrible
leaving so suddenly, but it was important business that couldn’t wait ‘til
morning. Slipping the story into the shelf, he returns to his brothers side.
He’d walked in quietly and loomed in the shadows like a creep. He certainly
felt threatened and protective of his brother, but the unique way you spoke and
acted was completely different from the stuck up bitch he’d been dealing with.
“maybe there’s no bone to pick with her after all.” he whispers, patting
Papyrus’ covered form. Even in his sleep, Papyrus growls in distaste to the
pun. Sans snickers again, gives a loving pat to his brothers shoulder, and
heads off to a sleepless sleep.  
Chapter End Notes
     So. Referencing that book!
     "The Long Long Letter" by Elizabeth Spurr, Illustrated by David
     Catrow. First Hyperion Paperback edition 1997. Hardcover edition.
     Yeah - referencing~ If you are wondering why I picked this certain
     book :
     A. Papyrus seems to be one without friends back in the underground,
     thusly he didn't receive an abundance of letters unlike his very
     popular and well-known brother. The book reminds me of Papyrus, that
     even without the letter, he has those around him.
     B. It was on my shelf when I was hunting for something to incorporate
     o3o
     C. ...A is mostly a lie. A happened because B happened.
     XD
     Please leave a kudos and some comments! Love some encouraging (or
     helpful......slightly mean isn't denied here.) comments.
     Visit_my_Tumblr!_I_TRY_to_keep_it_up-to-date_with_Post-Times...TRY...
***** Time for Training *****
Chapter Summary
     Short chapter to start getting closer to the juicy bits.
Chapter Notes
     Imagine this is a steak grilling over a low flame and you need to be
     very patient for the perfect juices. I am that flame, the story is
     the steak, and its juices are starting to show ever so slightly.
     God I just couldn't write this chapter. It killed me inside everytime
     I tried to write something.
     Sorry for over a month of waiting and such a die-down chapter.
     SORRY!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
You don’t recall much of your night nor morning. You shambled back to your
portion of the house, up the staircase, and collapsed right into bed. Waking up
wasn’t your option – It was Undynes. She was the only one whom you demanded
explanation to why you were dragged and standing in the middle of a field,
sleeved tank—top and shorts with hard boots while she wore a slacked and ripped
t-shirt with cargo pants, jumping and jabbing at the air and barefoot. You
refused to ask the odd composition structure of her feet. A ways behind you
everyone seemed to be settled onto a picnic blanket as you rubbed the
exhaustion from your eyes. Mid-yawn, Undyne began groaning in frustration.
“Uggghh c’mon!!” she bites as you stretch and try to become more aware.
“Undyne. What the hell are we even doing heeereeeeee?” Your need to stretch
gets the better of you and your final word follows your relief. More aware of
your placement, it’s a deserted grassy field surrounded in pines and maples and
you can’t hear the bustle of the city or anybody. The mountain isn’t far from
view either – you’re likely located somewhere on the opposing side regarding
the lengthy car-ride you were constantly drowsing off on.
“Training!?” She makes it sound obvious, looking at you with confusion.
“I’m sure you are aware that I’m not allowed to use magic.” you quirk an
eyebrow, lazing back and just seeking to drift back off into sleep.
“Oh please I already asked Asgore! If you got concerns ‘bout this Zebb guy, how
the hell can I be proficient if I don’t understand his ability?!” she argues.
“Undyne. In short, he can manipulate invisible fire missiles to land at-most a
mile away despite being a physical use mage.” you relent back, wanting nothing
but to curl back up into a pillow with another needy yawn. The scent of food
from the picnic wafts through the steady wind and churns your stomach. “And
isn’t it a little unfair that I haven’t eaten or slept enough?” you grumble
miserably.
“Pulling excuses so you can chicken out?!” she barks with a gritting grin.
“Chicken?” you growl, though its completely playful. You know she is getting to
your nerves on purpose, trying to agitate you into fighting. You allow it
whole-heartedly and decide to let this play out.
“Ya heard me, or you goin’ deaf?” Her stance changes as she allows he knees to
bend further, a cobalt spear materializing in her fist.
“Deaf or death – which would you rather?” you giggle, standing to her sideways
and beginning to manipulate the energy around you.
Without another word, Undyne takes the first steps. Its brisk and forceful as
she breaks the distance in a near heartbeat. You lean past the lunge of the
tip, pushing it forward and away from your body as you spin against her back
and leg sweep her feet out of her. You intended for her to land backwards yet
her forward momentum was so incredible she went forward and right into a plume
of dandelions that scatter their wishes about.
She is quick to push herself up, wipe the fluffs from her hair and brow and
reposition herself with an enthused grin, but you hold up a hand in pause.
“You’re going about this all wrong. I didn’t even need to use any energy for
that. I need you to go out as if your life is on the line before I can gauge
what you need help with.” You grumble with a sigh. Its necessary but your sleep
deprivation is getting the better of you. Undyne, however, seems utterly
thrilled she can ‘pull out the big guns’.
Before you can manage another glance or word, the thin blades of grass are
coated with dots scattered across the earths soil – the dots gleam a neon teal
and hum with vibrating energy. Cautious of the specs dancing near your feet,
you sidestep them all to only witness a barrage of spears fling from the ground
and upwards in an attempt to skewer you. Watching on in minor surprise, your
soul jumps free from your body and is painted entirely green – stuck in Undynes
distant grasp. She doesn’t seem to falter any less as a ring of javelin spears
appear from thin air and encircle your soul with a homing detection as it
cycles closer. Weaving between the thin blades is almost like a roundabout
dance and you catch a hint of Undynes frustrations as another set of the ground
spears materialize before your face.
Finally stepping up to the test and giving Undyne her own situation, you
channel your magic into the earth around you. Once you clear the danger zone,
you thrust an open palm into the earth beneath you and expel positive energies
within. Milliseconds later, the single area of Undynes placement is expelled as
the earth juts upwards and forces her into the air. Taking the opportunity to
draw water from a patch of long grass and tuning it around your arms similar to
vambraces, you lunge forward while she descends. She seems adjusted to falling
and you give her an extra pull to throw her off as she plummets feet first to
the ground. While she stumbles into awareness, you lunge forth and begin
jabbing at her chest and upper arms. She is relatively quick and manages to
avoid and dodge the majority of your attacks, save a few shots to the lower
chest cavity.
This battle sequence repeats a few times – Undyne throwing a seemingly infinite
amount of spears that can materialize from nearly any surface, you rushing
towards her while dazed and taking advantage of her openings, and a little
mixed kick-boxing. One instance she surprises you with a hasty back attack and
you jump through the void, reversing time by mere seconds, and coming out
behind her for yet another leg sweep that has her flat on her ass and expelling
the air from her lungs.
“Y-You friggin’….cheater…” she rasps; her breathing is heavy and soul pounding
yet her smile is uncontainable.
“Hardly. I thought I was preparing you for Zebbulon? He has free manipulation
over the void – you need to know and watch your back on the double.” you reply,
out-stretching a hand to assist your sparring partner back up. She accepts it
after a brief moment of contemplation and you assist her to her feet. Once up,
you both wordlessly relax and take the brief moment to gather yourselves.
“I’ll admit – you got some skills.” Undyne huffs and plops herself against a
lone tree. You move beside her for the shade it obliges.
“Hah. I barely did anything special.” You admit as she gawks.
“How the hell are we supposed to train if you don’t come at me!?”
“If I came at you with more power then in my restraints, you would die.” You
mutter, sweeping your hair back. She laughed heartily, taking it as a mere fib.
“When’d you become all high an might, hmm?” she quirks and eyebrow and jabs you
playfully with her elbow, though the force behind it knocks you off balance;
the interaction only fuels her guffaw. Sighing, you can only manage to think of
one breakthrough to make your point. Leaning back to look past Undyne, you gaze
with a hard intensity at the beast known as the King of Monsters.
“Asgore.” you call out as he turns his head. You would never believe this
gentle giant to be anything short of vicious and deadly if you hadn’t witnessed
it yourself. “Up for a round two?” You ask cryptically. You aren’t expecting
him to reply, only to reinform Undyne of past achievements not your own.
“…Very well.”
You don’t know whether to be dumbfounded, terrified, or ecstatic but you jump
to your feet as Undyne takes for the dumbfounded route while her king
approaches with ease.
“Just sayin’ this now – this isn’t for a fight fight. Its to prove to Undyne I
could whoop her if I wanted.” You inform, not wanting to waste his time. The
rest of the picnic has instantly become engrossed in the activity. You catch
the hint of a nod from him before he summons forth his astounding trident. His
posture settles into broad and bulky as his grip intensifies; his eyes are
shrouded and unreadable. You yourself summon your scythe to your side, the
blade passing your face to reveal your own intensifying eyes as the wheel
begins to spin. A battle paused in time on the brink of erupting once more. To
the giant you bow – a sign of respect as he follows suit, though its more of a
hunching over. He is stiff; unused to battle.
“Asgore. I implore you to seek my death during this fight. This battle was cut
short all those centuries ago. I will follow in my ancestors footprints, and
this will be decided. Once it is decided, we can move on. The past will be
gone. Finally, you will live for today.” Your words seem to have an effect on
him as he briefly brightens up. He swings his trident wide and grasps it
between his enormous paws, his stance changing in a mere moment as he readies
himself.
You don’t waste anytime propelling forward with extra juice in the initial
jump. About seven feet out of his reach you jump into the void and appear
behind him ready to behead the heart king but it doesn’t connect as he allows
the swing to pass over his horns. He brings the blunt spiked end of the trident
backwards; aimed for your guts. You’re pulling yourself to the ground with a
gravitational pull to let it sweep past. Once grounded with a tremble you itch
and scratch the negative energy within you and seek to uppercut the king with a
direct electrical volt. Right before snagging his beard and lower jaw he grips
your wrist and raises you up as the bolt discharges directly into the sky.
You’re body is rag-dolled along the field as you use your scythe to instantly
cease your careening.
The battle certainly doesn’t die down based off the distance. A volley of
seering flames erupts and rushes towards you in varying arcs as you cling to
the ground. Steeling your foot to the base of the scythe and forcing a harsh
propelling of the jets, you air strike at the king while putting that same
electric energy through your blade. He defends the attack with his trident and
sparks fly between the clashing as you pressure yourself more into the follow.
He thrusts you backwards and into the ground as you both dual it out with a
test of strength; his teeth gritting together as he wills himself stronger. His
fuzzy muscles bulge and you sling yourself away instantly before his eyes flash
an array of blue and oranges and he swings at the air. Taking a moment to
steady your breathing and change the pacing and innerworkings of your energies,
you feel the air around you solidify as you breathlessly stand on the edge.
Your fists clench around that energy ball and slam it into the earth as it
tremors and breaches with spurts of fire. You watch him struggle to keep his
footing and avoid the flames as you pursue his slight retreat. The flames only
fuel him as an incredible series of his own pyres are hurdled at you
erratically. It singes your shoulder as you dance about and dodge past all his
attacks while pushing forward.
He can’t stop the contact as you barrel into him and you both flop to the
ground. In the first instant of recollection you have you straighten out and
ready your scythes blade beneath his neck as he gazes at you with impressed
surprise. You can’t help but gulp in air and laugh at the situation as he has
his trident also poking back right into the location of your soul; the tips
piercing with thin droplets of blood adding to the redness of your shirt.
“What the hell did I say about not letting this by another tie for another
time?” you grumble, using your free hand to snatch the trident and pluck it off
your skin as you pull your own weaponry into retreat. You followed in your
ancestors footsteps; you equaled your power to his own, merely used it
differently with expelling. Keeping on that constant scale was taxing enough as
it was. You step off the giant as he sits up and checks you over, suddenly
fearful of the damage caused.
“Relax ya furball – I’m fine. Cut or burn here or there; nothing monster food
wont basically heal up by itself.” You reassure him. You would offer a hand for
the gentle giant if you didn’t know ahead of time there was no way you could
pull him up to his feet. Merely sitting up his horns nearly reached the height
of your head. Sitting up. Once he gets up to his feet you assist with dusting
off the soil that clung to him and his shirt that has a thin rip here and
there.
The first to approach the littered field is Frisk who barrels into Asgore who
gives an amused chuckle and slings a paw around the childs back in reassurance.
Undyne and Papyrus surge forward in amazement to the skills of their king and
seek stories of old in detail while you hobble over to the picnic blanket.
Toriel and Alphys are in ladylike sundresses while Sans has his hoodie tied
around his side and is asleep with a quantum physics book resting over his
sockets. Alphys maneuvers closer to Toriels side as you abruptly plop down onto
the blanket and lay back with an exhausted groan. The tips of the trident had
pierced you further than you had initially anticipated and the pain was
catching up in your renewed groggy state. Running dry since the start of the
day thanks to failed sleeping, lack of food and the recent outlet of energy
left you with barely enough concentration and energy to force into
regeneration.
“Can-Can someone give me monster food? I don’t even care if its Papyrus’
spaghetti, just something with a healing factor?” You plead to the sky with
exhaustion. A few agonizing moments of silence pass before to your own surprise
its Alphys who shyly nudges a plate of banana bread towards you, buttered and
all. You give her a brief eye exchange of thanks in silence before biting into
the perfected concoction. Even without the healing factor you never doubted
Toriels cooking. Salivating over each delectable bite in silence and Alphys
offering another with even a hint of excitement. Its when she offers you the
drink that you look at her questioningly. Alphys was always shy and reclusive
around you yet every item given she grew closer and closer, confidence somehow
building despite her shaking. Giving a suspicious glare you down the drink with
immediate regret. Theres a difference between sugared, sweetened and vomitingly
sweet. This was the latter. It was down too quick to take it back as the thick
taste danced over your tongue, coughing on the beverage slightly as you muffle
out the taste with the banana bread that resurrected your taste buds from the
overload.
“Compliments to the chef. Toriel you really shouldn’t let anybody have that
drink – its way too sweet. I nearly choked.”
You blink a few times, surprised with your sentence. It was the truth, yes, but
you planned to let her down easy and merely inform her it was a tad sweet for
your liking. Toriel seems too invested in her book as she looks at you with her
glasses blocking the glint in her eyes.
“Oh, Rea, I didn’t make anything! Everyone else insisted on the task to supply
me with a break. I believe Alphys made the drinks and the banana bread
was……Sans?” She hints a mirthful smile toward the skeleton as you see his grin
grow. You hesitate on the next bite as you see the shit faced skeleton peer
past the book as you make direct contact and take a large bite from the bread.
God it was incredible to say the least.
“goin’ a little bananas over there, smalls?” Sans cracks a joke that instantly
makes you want to spit the delicious treat out. How dare he ruin your mood
while munching on banana bread!
“Its really friggin’ good.” you awkwardly admit and clamp a hand over your
mouth. I didn’t mean to compliment him!!
Sans sits up properly and Alphys is definitely more fidgety then normal.
“assumin’ you mixed the barbiturates and scopolamine in?” He asks casually,
settling the physics book to the side where you notice a slight smaller jokes
book hidden inside.
“I-I-It wasn’t e-easy…” Alphys admits with hesitance as you look to both of
them. You glance between the both of them, trying to elaborate on those
specific ingredients. Then it hits you like a bag of bricks connected to a
train.
“You truth drugged me.” You practically whisper, glancing back at the strange
drink. “Toriel. Toriel. This is why we don’t let scientists cook; I have been
drugged!” You cry out silently in slight alarm; instantly hoping you can keep
your mouth shut. A heaviness envelops your arms that are forced behind you and
you’re forced to bite down on your lips.
“Alphys, Sans, this is awfully rude!” Toriel barks in retaliation as Sans
merely shrugs towards her.
“hey, its already happenin’; might as well learn what we can.” He supplies
smoothly.
“Oh that’s rich.” You grumble freely, regretting everything and more.
“O-Okay. W-What is your real name?” Alphys begins the quizzing as she pulls out
a pen and paper. You would be informing Asgore of this situation once the
proper chance arose.
“I don’t have a name.” You admit instantly. Its not a difficult question. They
both sort of just stare towards you in confusion. Sans tests the workings.
“do you hate me?” He asks with sincere curiosity as you will your mouth shut
despite the incessant pull to chatter.
Don’t you say a word. NOT a fucking word!!
“I don’t.” Fuck you. Your internal screams could likely be heard across the
void.
“seems t’ be workin’…” Sans grumbles in unsureness.
“W-Whats your original haircolor?”
“White.” What was with the gentle questions? Was dosing you with components
contained within truth serums the only way they understood to bond?!
“If you were instructed to seal us back Underground, would you?” The harsh tone
Toriel jumps in with as she looks directly into you is unsettling and Alphys
seems surprised the queen would ask such a risqué questions out of the blue.
You feel your hesitation boiling, trying to discover your own truth.
“I….I don’t know.” You admit hesitantly as you fiddle with your fingers behind
you.
“Can you elaborate, please?” She seems much softer, almost giving off her pity
for you telepathically.
“I…I am merely a puppet. I haven’t had a say in my life for so long that going
against my instructions……I don’t know what would become of me. If I refuse
their final decision and you all remain safe, I have the high likelihood of
being abducted back and used simply as a breeder for the remainder of my time.
If I agree and it entails you all going back behind the barrier, it will be
done. I can guarantee that.” The few last words have Alphys hunching over into
defeat and Sans has trouble looking away from you with angry intent.
“However………..I have grown somewhat attached to you all in such a short period
of time, despite my rules of being nothing but an unfeeling shadow. My decision
will likely be straining on my mentally and emotionally.” you grumble,
scratching your head.
“OOoohhh finally gonna explain what that whole ‘breeder’ shin-dig s’bout?”
Undyne purrs behind you as you flinch forward and glare at her respectively,
your hands free to shut your mouth before trying to respond to Undyness
curiosity.
“What is a breeder? Is it another word in mage language?” Toriel asks in
complete honesty, that tension from before completely drained away with her
relieved smile. She must have found solace in your words. You force yourself to
shake your head no and cover your mouth from mumbling the truth. Merely
speaking of the fate was bad enough. Undyne tries to yank your hands away from
your face and you struggle against her.
“Now what is going on?” Asgore booms as he and Frisk return hand in hand. The
sight pleases Toriel as Papyrus settles down besides Sans and Alphys who gave
up their little ‘interrogation’ due to the increasing company.
“Rea here keeps mentionin’ her havin’ ta become a breeder and she won’t. Spill.
The. BEANS.” With every directed word she gives a harsh tug at your forearms as
you relent. You both are pulled back with her force and gaze up into Asgores
horrified eyes.
“Th-….The mages…….they still do that?” His teeth are grinding against each
other as he looks down to you. You feel the sins of your past crawling over
your back in an instant.
“I-I can explain-“ Before you can even manage to finish the sentence Asgore
snatches the collar of your shirt and hoists you away from the picnic blanket
quickly. Once far enough away and with the insurance that nobody is near enough
to listen in, he settles you feet first before him and holds each shoulder.
“Force breeding was supposed to be illegal.” He growls; all knowing. How could
he not? The ‘breeding’ program was in short a deadly torture sex program
invented by the mages during the war. When numbers were needed quickly many
females were directed into hastened labors; the woman would be allegedly raped
and impregnated, passing their magical genes on to their increased growth rate
babies that were pumped time enhancers. The end-product was iffy and grew up at
astounding rates – A baby was born after merely a week, and in another they
could easily be 10 years of age. The mages used this system advantageously to
extort an increase in numbers with little wait. However, everything fell apart.
Females were rarer than males thanks to certain gene mixing, so for every 20
male babies there were 1-2 girls. The chemical pumped into the womb that
enhanced time also enhanced the degrading of the womb itself. A woman in her
mid 20’s could have a 90 year olds reproduction and organ system. It was
ensured slow killing as they broke down from the inside; the medications and
magic applied merely drove them insane in lust and fear. The chemical later
named Samulis was underlined as a form of torture, however, the practice
continued. It was the reason for the large lack of female mages during your
generation – you and Mirage were currently the only ones alive. Likely they
held hopes that if the procedure was performed the odds were in their favor to
receive atleast two females to outweigh the sacrifice that was seemingly
required.
“It is, but, like, I don’t have any say what they use me for! Especially if I
return as a traitor!” You can feel yourself trembling at the mere thought.
Asgore clutches your shoulders tighter. He saw the product on the field – loose
wild canons who sought nothing but bloodshed. Their magic wasn’t controlled due
to lack of training and time; their basic aging system was shot – far too many
passed of old age right in the midst of battle. Through recent years they have
discovered a reverse to the effect, however, it is also possibly deadly.
“You are a being of your own. That act is prohibited by the direct council!”
Asgore hisses.
“The council is the one who would be directly sending me to that fate if I go
against them, Asgore!” You shriek a little too loudly as you continue to shiver
in his grasp. “No matter how much I deny it, how I deny nobody owns me, it
feels like I have never had a fucking say in my entire life. This isn’t any
friggin’ different!” Your words are venomous but not directed to the
understanding giant before you. “Even without betraying their trust it’s likely
the living I will make one day. That or give myself other purpose.” you grumble
as the earths pull seems more like an embrace as you want nothing but to
plummet into the earth around you. The pressure is choking you.
“I need air.” You indicate before spinning on your heels and walking further
away from Asgore. The ground is sucking you in while you free your scythe once
more and use a vault to projectile yourself into the air above, away from
everything and left to the wind. Balancing the unprecise rod out and squaring
your spine to align with it, you lean back and lay upon it with perfect balance
as your toes curl around the end. It requires little to nothing mentally to
merely float in a single location. Up here there is nothing to pull you down;
not even gravity.
Moments transition into minutes as you merely breathe. You glanced at Asgore
who had retreated to the picnic table and informed everyone of your
‘situation’; save Papyrus and Frisk who went to fetch ice-creams. Laying out
while peering up into the abyss blue sky with a few stray clouds, you let your
mind wander to your worth. You don’t know how long you lay there; trapped in a
trance of your own self-pity and grudge.
“hey.” The sudden closeness of a familiar voice nearly throws you from your
perch as your perfected balance falters and you swing your arms and ankles
around the pole as you face toward the ground in an instant. Looking up you
catch the shocked pupils lit inside Sans’ sockets as he stands atop the scythes
flat blade. You grumble and swing yourself back up with ease before settling
back into your position. Looking back onto Sans you notice he isn’t actually
touching the metal; he has a translucent blue haze before his feet as he
levitates a mere inch from the scythe, unwavering the balance.
“Don’t fucking do that Sans.” you warn freely as you grumble back into laying
down. He is wordless as you both remain silent and stare into the sky. You
spare a glance to the company and see his phalanges and metacarpals twiddling
in his jacket pockets.
“was it true?” His voice is sudden as he looks back to you. You don’t bother to
look away; caught in your slight stare.
“Gonna have to be a tad more specific.” Your voice is emotionless as you await
the obvious.
“’bout the mage breeders…..’bout how its…” Sans seemed lost for the words he
sought and you didn’t desire the conversation to extend onwards into personal
territory.
“Yeah. Its true.” Is all you supply. You feel the magic flow in the air
intensify as a shimmer of blue pops into his socket for a moment. Despite the
effects of the serum being worn off, its pointless to lie to the shorter
skeleton. He could smell lies despite his lack of nose. The air around you
tense with unreleased magic is enough to make you antsy and raring to fight the
unfightable.
“Look. Can we end this conversation? There’s nothing to be done about it if
it’s the final decision; I’ve already accepted that my fate is beyond my reach.
They can control my fate, but my life is my own. That’s why I am here,
floating, breathing, living. Whether that’s cut short or not isn’t up to me –
I’m busy living in the now.” You comment, sitting up and dangling your legs
past the poles sides and leaning your hands beyond your body. Sans remains
silent as you begin an even descent.
The moment your feet connect with the ground, Papyrus and Frisk scurry over;
Frisk left Flowey behind on the blanket for a rest and everyone else is having
pleasant conversations.
‘I wanna fly! Can I? Oh please please please please pleasepleasepleaseplease-‘
Frisk latches onto your leg and begins screaming their thoughts with sparkling
joy as you chuckle and contemplate whisking Frisk away.
“Did you ask your folks?” you ask quizzically, arching an eyebrow. They nod and
give an iffy hand wobble. Good enough. Scooching back to allow sitting room for
Frisk and tapping the location, you spare a glance to the equally giddy Papyrus
– stars twinkling in his sockets as he stares at the space open behind you. You
can clearly tell Sans doesn’t approve of this thought with a subtle shake of
the head Papyrus doesn’t pick up as her sight is trained onto the scythes pole.
“Sans come oooonnn. When does he get the chance to fly? If I can take care of
Frisk I can sure as hell take care of Papyrus! Look how happy he is!” you point
to the blatant joy as he gives intense puppy eyes towards his brother, seeking
permission. As the sweat accumulates over his skull, he resigns and submits to
losing this battle.
“alright, alright bro…get on.” Sans points onto the seat and Papyrus doesn’t
waste any time straddling the pole behind you and pressing his knees into your
sides. You can feel his tremoring vibrations and hear the rattling of intense
bones as he tries to hold onto his silent patience. You assist Frisk in
climbing before you and nuzzling them back and into your awaiting lap, locking
your legs to their sides as well to form a sort of locked train in wait.
“Okay! Fasten your invisible seatbelts, keep hands away from the drivers field
of view, try to allow driver to leave this experience with their eardrums
intact, hold onto your recent lunches and enjoy the RIDE!” You quickly lay out
the rules and press off harsher then before as you all jolt into the air.
Papyrus finally lets loose a wild scream before he is cackling like a witch and
letting both his arms splay out and flutter in the wind beside his cape.
Frisk’s eyes are practically bulging out as he seems unsure of the height and
presses back into you for more stability, but he is quick to adapt and join
Papyrus in silent squeals.
Performing a few freestyle barrel roles that are too quick to anticipate nor
reflex for thrills them even more as you let their dangling feet rustle in the
trees leaves and kick up the winds flow. You do a few stunts such as stopping
while heading directly up and allowing a short free-fall, but the distant
glares from their brother and parents are obvious despite the distance and you
tone down the thrills. It doesn’t seem to effect either of them; Papyrus and
Frisk are merely giddy to be off the ground. You align yourself with the ocean
and instantly put everything into the thrusters to zip away and out of sight.
Hunching into the pole for more stability and speed, you all excel and flutter
through the wind as you reach the near ocean and kick up the salty water and a
few frightened fish. One even lands in Papyrus’ hands as he squeals in
excitement.
“I see you landed a fish!” You cackle as the tail flails near your ear and
Papyrus can’t help but laugh more. He’s too thrilled to care about the pun.
Frisks expression is that of one who is witnessing freedom for the first time –
all smiles and thrills but head held high with pride and relaxation. You let
the scythe cut into the repelling waves and come across a familiar island. The
sealing location from the previous universe.
As if to further prove your point, the waves begin to pick-up and shrieks of
fear and astonishment emit from the small island as it visibly tremors and
shakes. Not willing to expose Frisk and Papyrus to the danger you speed back in
the opposite direction. A few mammoth tentacles jut out from the cascading
waves in an attempt to swat you down like a fly; you narrowly avoid one as the
company is jostled.
“WHAT IN BLAZES IS THAT?!” Papyrus shrieks, looking back in amazement combined
with a hint of concern. Frisk is clutching onto your legs as he spares a glance
back as well.
“A technicality. I’m bringing you back and then I will deal with it.” you
announce, increasing the speed. Your magic is decently spent by the time you
return after the joyride turned sour. Frisk and Papyrus haven’t stopped staring
back towards the sea as you reapproach serene opening. The quakes haven’t begun
here yet as Sans and Asgore impatiently await your return; likely planning to
scold you.
“Rea. You were supposed to stay in sight.” Asgore announces as you begin to
lower yourselves down before them.
“Sorry – I just had this little wave of thoughts and I felt like visiting the
ocean. Good thing too.” You grumble, letting Frisk off first and into Asgores
waiting arms. He must be explaining what you witnessed as Asgore alerts his
undivided attention to Frisk. Papyrus jostles off as Sans silently does a quick
scope of his body for any issues. Alls he finds is the fading fish. Before you
can allow him to question you about the whereabouts you’d left for that
resulted in a fish, you snatch up his hood and plop his boney shorts onto the
front of your scythe where Frisk once sat.
“Mind if I borrow you for a necessary extermination?” you ask after setting him
down. He shoots you a questioning look that turns playful.
“if there were roaches upstairs, that’s an issue for his majesty to attend to.”
he jokes, leaning in comfortably now upon the pole.
“Depends. You might get inked.” you inform heartily as you begin to ascend. If
he truly wasn’t a willing participant “Weren’t you interested in what happened
before I came here?” you lean to his side and give a knowing smile as you zoom
off towards the ocean. You wouldn’t bother with the void as this gave you time
to discuss strategy.
“didn’t know you would cal-a mari.” You halt the scythes propulsion.
“Did you seriously just try to replace ‘call on me’ with ‘calamari’?” You ask
with complete honesty as he gives nothing but a lazy shrug to announce he
neither knows nor cares. Excellent.
Chapter End Notes
     Please leave unsatisfied comments below. I have no excuse past
     writers block. Semi-permanent writers block.
***** Time to Recuperate *****
Chapter Summary
     Every battle requires recuperation.
Chapter Notes
     OMG I am really sorry about the wait on this. Again, more filler, but
     a new one will be close behind.
     Then again...this isn't all filler ;)
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Again you stand over the sealing point, doing what you do best. Sans is laid
out on the side, huffing and gasping as the sun pelts his bones.
The fight went on and on; it wasn’t simply the fact that it seemed stronger
then the last, but you had to keep your eyes peeled on the extra party member
you’d foolishly brought along. The true reason you’d bothered to bring Sans was
to gauge his abilities and stamina. He certainly was lacking in the latter, but
he made up plenty for it with those large draconic skulls blasting and searing
their sheer energy right through atleast three of the protruding tentacles. It
was safe to say the beast would be too occupied recuperating to try anything
similar for another 200 years.
Nonetheless, you add a third seal onto the large amassed stone before grunting
and plopping down besides Sans. The ride, the fight, and the cleanup had never
been so stressfully straining on you before. After all, you had to cover Sans’
back a multitude of times – he was just leisurely floating there and he would
let them come within feet from his face before you had to pull him out. You
can’t recount exactly what he yelled at you whenever you did as the fight had
you entirely engulfed.
And yet, it was over. You and a monster skeleton who could traverse the ‘Void’
were now simply lying in the sand and sun, thankful the deed is done. Alls you
had left were your reserves, and even they were dried out to the point of only
a one way trip.
“H-Hey Sans….t-think you can-“ You gasp and huff as you regain your breathing
pace and composure only to be cut off with a far too loud snore. Feeling the
eager need to glare at the skeleton, your eye only momentarily fills with
hatred before you sigh and fixate yourself on the task of rising up.
Once the unsolid ground is beneath your feet and you steady yourself, you nudge
his clavicle with your foot.
“Sans? C’mon dude I’m low on magic. Can you atleast teleport us back?” You
plead with misery as he simply continues to snore and slumber. Reaching down,
you hoist the skeleton up and onto your back with a bit of staggering. Storing
away your scythe back into the dimensional phone box, you strain the last of
your focus back onto that forest; its clearing, the picnic,
your…….acquaintances.
Yeah. That sounded horrible……..but I am not their friend.
Using the last of the reserves, you cut open a rift and step through awkwardly.
Sans’ body weight is weird – he is certainly heavier than you had anticipated
and your arms feel like jello. Never the less, you forge onwards. By the time
you reach the picnic area and land underneath a lone tree in the clearing, you
are panting out of sync with Sans’ snoring as you struggle to keep your
bearings. Looking to the basket with hope for monster food replenishing, you
nearly shed a tear of frustration as the sunset pierces your gaze and the group
has likely retreated home for the night.
Fiddling with your phone, you pull up the time. 7:13.
Fucking fantastic.
Sans is still slumped over you as you rest against the tree. The last of your
magic wisps away as the doorway begins to close, yet you force your hand inside
to keep it open and stumble back. A piercing chill shakes through you as you
maneuver back into the Void. You don’t bother to wake Sans – he will surely not
awaken nor offer assistance after everything he’d done to help. You alone would
carry both your weights as you trudge through. The once tranquil floating you
once experienced now feels like swimming through grime and mud. Shutting your
eyes, your limbs and chest begin to strain. Magic was the navigation and
propulsion mechanic necessary for this treacherous travel method. If you had
inadequate control over it, you were as good as dead. Now you simply forced
what little could be drained from you into a single destination mark-way – like
a guiding string – and followed it intensely.
A sudden loss of air brings you down harshly onto a single knee, gasping and
clutching Sans’ legs for useless stability. He grumbles and shimmies, but not
enough to stir him awake. You’re practically tempted to drop and leave him
here. You nearly do – he is weighing you down.
But, instead, you push off and continue your line of focus and distancing
yourself from the suffocation of your lungs. Using magic without having magic
has deadly effects – it pulls the smallest hints from everywhere and anywhere
within the body; the blood, skin, organs, hair – anywhere. Fate decided to spit
into your face as your muscles began to squirm and ache against your will and
your lungs slowly yet surely collapsing on themselves.
The sure suffocation brings with a black fading of your vision before your
navigation finally ceases. You made it. Now, the hard part – reopening a tear.
You don’t even let the pain process through your mind as you quite literally
rip the most jagged and unseemly opening you can and throw yourselves out and
into your bedroom. It isn’t long before your blood strains and you desperately
grasp for air your lungs cannot hold properly. As you both clatter to the
ground, Sans ineloquently is thrown and slammed into the wall as he jolts awake
and groans. The tear is still wide as it starts to seep blood through your very
skin; a prickling and stabbing pain overtaking your entirety.
“uuuugh – jeez, thanks for a rude aw-“ Sans instantly shuts up as he witnesses
you writhing against the ground, gasping uselessly. His boney fingers snap
together and the tear zippers shut; your blood finally rushing through your
body as you begin to recover. He scrambles over quickly and hoists your upper
half into his lap looking you over with an accumulation of sweat.
“shit.shit. what’s wrong?!” He doesn’t dare touch you again as you finally
catch air and gasp in pleasure and need for oxygen that is, at last, in supply
to the demand. You try to make words, though your throat clogged and closed up
with soreness and dryness that all you can manage is sputtering and husky
gasps. Your eyes feel lidded as he slips out from underneath you and out the
door; a clattering of bones and slippers rushing down the stairs as quickly as
his legs can fly.
Then, you fade.
 
===============================================================================
 
The enticing wafting smell of noodles and cheese are what finally drags you
free from a pit of blackness you couldn’t recall. The sun is baring down over
your eyes past the curtains and your body is paralyzed underneath a set of
covers and blankets. Fixing your eyes open, a white blur looms over you yet is
set in a chair.
It’s Asgore. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days – his beard is shaggier, his
eyes are drooping, yet his attention is on you as you manage to flutter your
eyes open just a smidge.
“Glad to see you’re alive.” He chuckles. His voice is dry and choked; like he’d
been sobbing for days on end. You try to make a smart remark, but your own
throat clenches as you decide to simply breathe and make facial expressions.
With the rest of your limbs feeling numbingly paralyzed, you wouldn’t be
surprised if it really wasall you could currently do. Asgore seems to sense
your parching throat as he offers a little glass of water with a straw. Sipping
quickly, you nearly finish it all at once. You weren’t aware of your own
desperation.
Finally finding a thin frail voice, you manage to speak.
“What happened?” You whisper and cough. Asgore seems to have a supply of water
as he prepares another glass for you.
“Been a long time since I had seen Magic Desperation. It certainly wasn’t long
enough.” Asgore sighs, brushing hair out of your face. Magic Desperation was
the use of abilities when you lacked anything to back it up. During the war, it
was a means of suicide bombing. You clear your throat, trying to find more
strength.
“H-How long was I out?” You ask eagerly.
“Nearly a week.” He admits, offering the glass to you again as you heartily
drink. No wonder you were starved. Your muscles begin to relax and uncramp from
their paralysis.
“Why didn’t you simply wake up Sans?” Asgore sighs, looking quite parental and
scolding.
“I nudged his clavicle and yelled. I almost dropped him once and that didn’t
get him to budge. He literally sleeps like the dead.” You groan, sipping more
of the water. Only now can you taste the slight sweetening added into the drink
– little berries and slices of fruit adding flavor to the usually plain drink.
“While it’s true that he can be a heavy sleeper, you should know better than to
push yourself to that extent.” His voice is stern as you simply look towards
the wall. Your ankles are coming to. There is a clatter of utensils and the
sickeningly enticing scent of noodles and cheese have you drooling desperately.
Turning back with slight shame, Asgore understands. He likely has seen enough
mages die on the battlefield to know the symptoms that follow.
“Here. Careful; its hot.” He offers a spoon with homemade macaroni and
fettuccini with cheese dribbled about and melting together. Adorning it were
little bits of parsley, broccoli, and very tiny chunks of sausage. You’re
pretty sure you’re crying amidst the first bite and nearly choke on the non-
chewed bits.
“Sans actually ran downstairs and told us of your condition……when we got
back……………you weren’t breathing.” He admits, letting the spoon fall back into
the bowl. He looks down to your chest and stomach, looking for your soul or
something until he gives a random shake of his head; likely lost in his own
thoughts.
“Papyrus was the first to make it up here. He was greatly concerned when Sans
had run downstairs that he took the lead in the mad rush. When I’d made it to
the top, he was cradling you in his arms and pressing your stomach; trying to
revive or mimic breathing.” Asgores voice is tight as he sets the bowl down and
feels your pulse along your wrist. It seemed meaningless, but you offered no
resistance as you left yourself to guilty thoughts.
“Luckily-“ He sighs again after a moment, sweeping more hair away from your
face. “-Toriel had learned CPR in a short term nursing course.” Asgore grins as
you sputter and rake your teeth over your tongue.
“UGH you let me get resuscitated by Toriel?! Shoulda just left me for dead.”
You hack, hating the imagery of the sequence of events playing out in your
mind. Asgore finally roars with laughter and pats your head. Though strained, a
mirthful smile adorns his face as he returns to spooning food into your mouth.
The healing factor was buzzing through your entire body – relaxing and
releasing your twining nerves, muscles, and joints.
“Afterwards, we left you in bed. Papyrus hasn’t left your side besides today.
He and Toriel have made sure to have a hot meal at the ready at all times
incase you finally woke up. Papyrus refused to listen to me about the expected
recovery date and just sat here; reading you stories, telling you of his day,
offering food and water.” He continued on and on as you shimmied deeper into
the blankets with guilt.
“Alright, alright! Stop guilt tripping me and get me healed so I can go hug Mr.
Lean Bones for all his ‘help’.” You chuckle pleadfully. It’s not that you
aren’t thankful for Papyrus’ outstanding concern. Its simply the matter of you
haven’t eaten anything in practically a week, you can’t feel your arms, and he
is teasingly waving around a spoon of delish smelling food while rambling you
into a guilt trip. Though Asgore obliges and feeds you the rest of the bowl. He
leaves for a while and returns with clear left overs.
Had they seriously made you meals everyday?! You did the quick math in your
head. That was over 10 meals. While the starved side of you was doing a number
of flips of joy about getting to eat so much, it was the rational brain that
replied ‘You’re going to vomit up some of it…’.
Though, it was simple oatmeal and tea this time around. Asgore helped you sit
up which caused your back to creak and ache in despair to the new position, but
you finally were finding strength in your arms enough that Asgore left you to
spooning food by yourself.
“So, how long do I have before Boney Health Care bashes down my door?” You
question with concern about halfway through your oatmeal.
“Around ten minutes. He just got off of work and Sans is bringing him home.
Toriel should be home later so expect similar treatment.” He chuckles, standing
and stretching before glancing around the room and making for the door. “If you
pretend to be sleeping, he might go easy on you.” With another roaring laugh,
Asgore leaves and shuts the door.
For the next seven or so minutes you simply eat, wrap your mind around the
sequence of events, and prepare yourself for all hell to break loose. And yet,
nothing happens. Fifteen minutes and you have finished the oatmeal. Your legs
are still numb and the damage to your arms is no longer clear as day – it
simply looks like odd freckles where the blood was sapped through. The simple
recollection is gut churning.
About 30 minutes have passed before Asgore brings up another helping of
oatmeal, tea, and a crutch. While you still have room for food, you give him a
minor thank you and he leaves. The instant he is out of hearing distance you
set aside the food and lunge for the crutch. Atleast with the little control
and strength still in your arms you could force yourself to the restroom. It’s
a total of a ten minute trip – and several of those minutes are spent simply
trying to maneuver.
45 minutes in and still no word from Papyrus. You’ve been slowly helping
yourself to the oatmeal which sends pleasant warm tingles throughout your
entirety. Even if it is your third helping.
Finally, the front door bashes open as you jump in surprise, almost spilling
the oatmeal.
“AH, YOUR MAJESTY! WEREN’T YOU UPSTAIRS WATCHING REA’S CONDITION?” Papyrus
shouts. There is an ever faint rustling of something you can’t identify as you
try to listen in. However, the rustling is covered instantly with the quick
paced stomping ascending the stairs. You sigh and struggle to remove the
oatmeal from your lap and straighten your hair.
Your door flies open to reveal a very casually dressed Papyrus. He has a white
flannel shirt with rolled sleeves on with a red vest to match his classic
scarf. His jeans are slightly tattered at the ends and his large boots and
gloves have been removed so show his long and slender hands and feet. In one
hand is a fresh bouquet that has a few missing petals from the speed of his
ascension. Nevertheless, his face brightens with a joyous orange and he throws
himself over to the side of your bed, scooping you into his grasp and planting
your face into his clavicle with a faint “Oof”.
“YOU ARE AWAKE!! SPLENDID – SIMPLY SPLENDID!” Papyrus cheers, lifting you up
into the air for observation. You merely shrug in acceptance. Atleast he wasn’t
tossing you like a ragdoll.
“Probably all those stories you told me.” You lie but it seems to please
Papyrus as he brings you close again for another rib crushing hug. You try to
awkwardly reciprocate, though the grip he has you in doesn’t allow for much
free movement so you can only really pat his clavicle. “Thanks, Papyrus. I
appreciate it………………..can you put me down now?” You simply wish to stop being
crushed in his more exposed ribs.
“AH, YES!!” Papyrus agrees, going to put you onto the floor.
“W-Wait, Pap-“ Papyrus relinquishes his grasp on you before you can finish your
warning. Your legs are still paralyzed and non-existent as they fall apart and
you face plant directly onto the floor. Papyrus lets out a screech and you hear
the air shifting around you as you try and pull yourself up before sneakers
squeak on the wood.
“SANS I BROKE REA’S LEGS – I HAVE DONE A TERRIBLE THING – I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE
AN ASSISTANT IN THE HEALING PROCESS, HOW COULD I?!?THE QUEEN WILL NEVER ALLOW
ME TO OVERLOOK PATIENTS AGAIN!!”Papyrus wails out as he shoves his forearm into
his tear bursting eyes. An arm swings around your back and pulls you back to
lean against the bed. It’s Sans. He has a grey turtleneck on (which is oddly
very suiting…) with his casual black gyms shorts, but he traded the slippers
for actual sneakers…and the same socks!!
“nah, bro. she’s just so flappy to see you.” Sans winks at you and you go to
slap him. However, with little strength, it’s only with the power of a pat. You
make contact, somehow, but neither of you move as you can only glare in despise
as he looks between you and your hand. Dropping it and pushing his arm away,
you sling your elbows onto the mattress and focus all the strength you have
into lifting yourself off the floor. Sans doesn’t say anything, but you feel
momentarily weightless before you find yourself on the mattress at last. You
don’t comment on it as you address Papyrus.
“Papyrus, my legs aren’t broken. They’re paralyzed – I can’t feel them.” You
admit as he wipes away bright translucent orange tears. They tumble over his
more prominent cheekbones.
“A-ARE YOU POSITIVE?”
“Yes, Papyrus. It’s not permanent either; so please relax. I’m fine.” You wave
your hand in attempted comfort as he just draws closer. Sans stays silent on
the side lines as Papyrus offers you the bouquet. Startled and flattered, you
lean forward and accept it. You are nearly positive you are blushing like a
madman – you’d never received a bouquet before.
“MY BOSS LET ME MAKE A ‘FEEL BETTER’ BOUQUET! IT ONLY HAS THE FRESHEST
LILACS!!” Papyrus says proudly with an orange tint blush covering his face.
Examining the lovely bouquet and smelling the arrangement is pleasant as you
can’t contain your excitement.
“Papyrus! This is beautiful! Thank you.” You thrilled while leaning your head
back to meet his eyes. His own sparkled with prideful stars as you tried to
hand it back. “If you could put those in water, I would be so thankful!”
In an instant, he is out the door. Though he is much much slower once out. He
must have caught sight of the trail of petals his brisk pace had brought about
and was taking ginger care to not lose another. And thus, it was simply you and
Sans. Bringing yourself back and against the head rest, you fidget around with
your legs and scrunch them towards your body before throwing your sheets back
to put your feet underneath. After pulling the sheet back over yourself in
comfort, you lean across and snatch your little tray of food. Setting it down,
you turn back to the stool it had been placed on to see Sans has taken up
residence there and you are just staring into the others eyes.
Guilt. Sleep Deprivation. Worry. His face is lined and traced all along his
features with such blame; such ache.
“I’m fine…” It’s much quieter and definitely directed solely at Sans, but he
shakes his head.
“smalls…you were out for nearly a week. Tori couldn’t- why didn’t you jus-“
“If you finish that sentence with “why didn’t you just wake me up?”, then I
assure you the moment I have enough strength in my arms, I will punch you right
in the fucking socket. You were out of as much juice as I was. I didn’t think
ahead and check the time to figure out that we should’ve just gone straight
home. That’s on my head….You had to run downstairs, Sans. Not saying you don’t
run – but you clearly used the last of it in just sealing up that…tear.” You
shiver at the thought. You hated unseemly rips into the Void. They were gross
and tattered, making it look sinister and defying.
“If you had tried using magic with empty reserves, you would have turned to
dust. It was better for me to do it since……..it’s a lot….slower?” You try to
summarize as he looks shell shocked.
“slower.” He echoes back in a stunned state. You nod and fiddle with your
spoon.
“Mhmm. Magical Desperation. Never really hadthat problem.” You chuckle darkly
as you lift your spoon and oatmeal.
“…you’re not alright.” He speaks suddenly as you flinch.
“Sans, I’m just f-“ “you’re trembling.” He doesn’t let you finish your sentence
as he maneuvers his hands around yours to take the spoon, and another to grasp
your hand. It trembles and shudders against his boney palms. You have done the
maximum best to simply ignore the itching pain tingling over your entire skin.
You sigh and oblige as he shimmies the bowl away from you.
Turning your head to face and stare into his hollow eyes, a washing feeling of
lies prance about your being.
He can tell. He knows better than anyone – how to lie.
“…………I’m not fine.” You finally whisper. You have to stop it all. What little
magic you used to differ your appearance leaks away as you plummet and hiss at
the simple contact with the pillow. Your skin stands on end like every inch is
surrounded by a bed of needles. Your chest feels empty yet bloated.  Your blood
is solid yet flowing. Everything just feels so much heavier…but dead.
Sans takes the initiative to sweep the remainder of the blanket over your body
as you twitch and attempt to relax. Each portion of fabric gliding along your
skin is like a spark plug; lightning dances across your thin arm hairs and
directly into your spine. He certainly doesn’t make the motion quickly, but he
also isn’t taking a sick form of pleasure in seeing you writhe.
His smile has vanished. Alls he does is fluff your pillow, pull you up towards
more of an angle, and stir the oatmeal before offering the spoon.
“Did I end up in some fantastical different universe where you are nice? Asgore
watched over me, Papyrus got me flowers, and you are literally tucking me in
and spoon feeding me despite me being capable of doing it myself…..I think I
died.” You sarcastically remark looking to the ceiling. Sans must take some
type of annoyance with your attitude as he takes the opportunity to shove the
spoon to the back of your throat where you gag and nearly choke on the utensil
before he pulls it out. As you force down the helping, you can’t help glaring
at him. Theres that smile.
“what? yer makin’ a pretty sourface for being nothing but sweetunderneath.” You
don’t completely understand the pun, but you can just hear it in his voice.
Trying to retort again only receives another shoving spoon. You think he has a
pale blue dust covering his skull, but Papyrus triumphantly returns with a
lovely vase for the flowers before you can question it further.
“BEHOLD! I HAVE RETRIEVED THE FINEST VASE IN THE HOUS-…..SANS!! WHAT DID YOU
DO!?” Papyrus screeches, practically throwing the very expensive looking vase
as you cringe every brisk movement he makes with his arms.
“she wore herself out.” He huffs back, looking innocent. You hope he has some
type of telepathic powers so he can feel the daggers you are glaring at him.
“REA! YOU NEED AMPLE AMOUNTS OF REST BEFORE YOU STRAIN YOURSELF!!” Papyrus
nods, setting the vase down near your bed and standing beside Sans. Atleast
while laying down you don’t have to strain to look up to him – it was starting
to put a painful kink in your neck. Sans sets the almost finished oatmeal to
the side and winks to you before addressing his brother.
Oh no.
“’ey, paps. you should tell her ‘bout your week.” His voice is light and
Papyrus perks to the prospect as he squats beside the bed.
“GOOD IDEA!! WHERE SHOULD I BEGIN?” He mutters, scratching his gloves against
his skull in thought.
“start at the park. just rattle ‘em off.” He chuckles as Papyrus’ eyes bulge
and glare at the leveled brother.
“Papyrus, please punch him for me.” You plead, pressing your head further into
the pillow in an attempt to drown out any and all sound.
“YES, BUT THAT IS AN UNBROTHERLY THING TO DO – AND MY BROTHER IS INCAPABLE OF
TAKING A HIT FROM THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He points a finger to the sky as Sans
begins to chuckle again.
“y’know it bro.” He agrees.
Isn’t it just the fact if he got hit once he would die?
Papyrus finally picks a position to start – he starts with the trip you took
him and Frisk on over the sea.
 
===============================================================================
 
It’s about ten minutes to 11 P.M by the time he finishes. You want to stab
yourself to make it end quicker. He goes over everything. EVERYTHING. Every
second, every little interaction (that he had MEMORIZED), just…..EVERYTHING.
Everyone who’d come home stopped by to check in on you. Undyne nearly gave you
a ‘celebratory’ punch, but Papyrus managed to stop and instruct her to not
touch. Alphys was much more like a doctor then a visitor – she kept asking your
symptoms and trying to diagnose medication that would assist in your recovery.
You didn’t mind; she was actually talking to you at last!
Toriel was the worst/best. The moment she burst into the room, she squealed and
rushed back downstairs. She came back up with Golden Flower Tea and scones,
banana bread, and fresh vegetables. The sentiment would have been sweet if she
didn’t practically guilt trip you into eating everything, interrupt Papyrus to
fetch more, and repeat that for about an hour. She even offered to help you
change! It was appreciated, but awkward.
“And…-yawn- afterwards, we went to the grocery store and….and stocked up on the
uh…tea! YES! And then, we drove at the appropriate speed limit on the way home;
Me and Her Majesty had a very nice conversation about plants and………and what
type of herbal treatments would bring about your SWIFT recovery!! Lets
see…….the-there was-“ Papyrus had slowly lost his enthusiasm. He had been
talking for practically nine hours afterall. Sans hadn’t budged once from the
stool. Everyone had decided to spend dinner in your room, for some reason.
Toriel refused your protests and spoon fed you as everyone diverged off the
story topic and made simple chatter.
Everything was pretty brief, and now Sans just watched eagerly as Papyrus wore
himself out simply by talking. You didn’t blame him – after two days of
detailed description you nearly kept falling asleep. Sans kept nudging your
mattress with his knee though and with the vibrations more intense for you, it
was hard to ignore.
Finally, he caved. Papyrus. He tilted his head a little too far forward and was
instantly resting and lightly snoring at your leg.
 
“…Aaaaaaaannddd he’s out.” You whisper appreciatively as you sigh to the
heavens. Sans stands and dusts off the crumbs left from the banana bread he’d
helped himself to and swings an arm around Papyrus’ large frame before using
the other to support his brothers front.
“c’mon paps. it’s past your bedtime.” Sans yawns, helping to stabilize the
brother who groggily swayed and muttered the remainder of the story as Sans led
him out. With a pleased sigh, you let the sleep finally drag you down into
dreams.
 
===============================================================================
 
It hurts.
You can hear the wind being sliced as she brings down the paddle, followed by
your faint whimpers as you clench onto your teeth. Everyone’s stopping and
staring. Not out of pity, of course. Everyone knows who you are.
What had you done?
Your eyes are still burning; not simply with orange juice, but the biting
tears. The paddles after sting. The teachers words of hatred. You know she
would side with the classroom even if one person was against you. You were
never shown any kindness.
Someone’s snickering.
A moment of clarity washes over you. Anger. Frustration. Sadness……….Hatred.
You can no longer contain it.
                                  It’s dark.
                                “BURN
HER!!”                                                                  
“WITCH!”
“WRETCHED THING.”                      “SEND HER TO THE
COALS!!”                                                                      
“DIE!”
                                                                               
“BURN, WITCH!”                              “AWAY WITH YOU!”
               
“BURNIT!”                                                          “ FREE THIS
TOWN OF WITCHCRAFT!! ”
                             Your face is covered.
                             It’s hard to breathe.
                                There’s smoke.
                             Your hands are bound.
                              You are surrounded.
                                Fire crackles.
                        It’s getting closer – the heat.
“BURN IT!”                                                                    
                                    “SET ITS SOUL ABLAZE WITH OUR FURY!!”
                                                “ KILL IT!! ”
                           “KILL IT WITH FIRE!!”
                                “FEED IT TO THE FLAMES!”
                                                          “MURDERER!”
                                                                               
“HOW COULD YOU?!”                               “BURN FOR YOUR SINS!!”
                “FOUL WITCH!”
                          Someone removes the cloth.
                                  You see it.
              A large stock of wood with a pillar in the middle.
                         They are pushing you closer.
          There are people surrounding the wood bundle with torches.
  Everyone has something as a weapon – knives, stakes, torches, spears, pitch
                                    forks.
                                    Closer.
     You can’t find anyone to help you; nobody would even if you pleaded.
                         You see them – their corpses.
                            Your mother and father.
        What little love you had ever received had only come from them.
                                They were gone.
                                You were next.
                              You were going to-
                “BURN HER!”                                     “BURN THE
WITCH!”                                       “BURN IT!”
“ LET IT BURN!!
”                                                                               
“BACK TO THE HELLFIRES!!”
                                                                “SET IT
ABLAZE!!”                                             “WRETCHED THING!!”
                              You can’t struggle.
 They throw you to the pile where you are bound at the stake and blindfolded.
                     The rope twists and burns your arms.
                           The fire is drawing near.
            A random person from the crowd throws the first torch.
                                   “Enough.”
   Everything is frozen. The fire. The screams. Everyone. Nobody is moving.
You struggle against the restraints – they’re gone. You throw yourself from the
                             pile and try to flea.
                              Someone grabs you.
   “Heeheehee. Easy there, sprout. Show some gratitude I found ya in time.”
 Someone is chuckling. There is an old bearded man holding your arm. He looks
            ancient. You cant break his grip….yet he seems tender.
                             “C’mere. Look at me.”
 His voice is stern – yet not scolding. Nobody has talked with such neutrality
  like this to you in so long. You can’t make out the man much more past your
                                    tears.
     “This place is cruel. You and I both know – it was an accident, ya?”
            You nod. You can’t form words past your gross sobbing.
                            “You hate this place?”
                                     Nod.
                   “Do you have any reason to want to stay?”
                                    Shake.
                                      …..
                             “Then come with me.”
                                        
                                     Nod.
                                        
                                        
                                        
Death                                    Deathdeath        dead-they’re all
dead.                   You killed them.
                                “MURDERER!”   Sobs. Its children. Childrens
sobs. You are all too familiar with them.
“Well done, girl.” It him. The scary man. You don’t like him…….he is
manipulative.
“With this, it’ll get yer mind off it fer shure!!” It’s a girl. The only girl.
She shares fantastical dreams with you. It’s sweet. She is kind. You mistrusted
her kindness in the beginning; you didn’t know people could be so willing and
nice.
“………Hey kid.” You forgot his name. He has a big hammer. He sticks near heat. He
is always sweating. His muscles are huge. He is huge – besides his head. You
nick-named him Tic-Tac.
“HeeheHAhee-“ It’s the old man. He is cackling again. He is weird and
understanding. He knows everything – supposedly.
“Come here, kiddo. Come see.” He is dead. He wasn’t. He was once your favorite.
His hair was like dewed grass that swayed in a constant breeze. He smelled of
pine and maple.
                        He was lost to the nothingness.
                            You couldn’t find him.
                             Dead—More Death. Its
    training.                                                              
                    “MONSTER!!”                    “NOOO!”
                    There’s blood everywhere. You’re numb.
                                 “MURDERER!!”
                               “No…” Your head…
                              “YOU MURDERER!!!!”
                              “No, I-“ You can’t-
                             “MONSTER!” “KILLER!!”
                                   “WITCH!!”
                     “I’m not!” You cry. Nobody hears you.
             “DEMON!” “MONSTER!!” “WITCH!” “MURDERER!!” “KILLER!!”
                  “EVIL””EVIL””EVIL THING!!” “BURN INHELL!!!”
                   “No!!” Nothing. Your head. Its pounding.
                      Fire. Heat. Its hot. You can’t see.
                       The flames. They are enveloping.
                              You can’t breathe.
                    You’re choking. Writhing on the floor.
       Slippers. Pink slippers running by. It burns. You can’t breathe.
     Nobody will help you now. You will burn. Choke on smoke. Burn to ash.
                                    “hey!”
                              Don’t come close .
            The voice will burn along with you. They are too close.
                                “hey, smalls!”
                                  Stay away…
                                 Away from me.
                                     I……..
                                    “Hey!!”
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                                        
                              I can’t control it.
===============================================================================
                                        
You scream. Propelling forward, you scream desperately as you try and find your
bearings. You are dribbling with sweat, panting. Somebodies holding your arms.
You can’t breathe. You can’t focus your sight; its dark.
“hey! hey, lookit me!!”
There’s that voice again. Your eye burns. Your magic is crackling – the room is
buzzing with energy. Things are levitating against your will.
Tossing off the sheets and scrunching your knees close to bury your head into
them, you will away the internal fire. Hot. Dark. Pain. You’ve lost control.
“Rea!!”
You know that voice.
Force yourself to twist your head and stare at him. Sans. Pink slippers.
Comedian. Idiot. He’s in danger. You are looking right through him.
His eyes go from concern to shocked. Your eye – it’s out of control. It’s
scaring him.
He is afraid of your powers. He should be. Don’t look at him…
Scrunch back in on yourself. All of your limbs contort and fight your mind.
Everything stings and throbs to move. Sweat prickles your skin and stands on
edge as you try to breathe and regain control. Your muscles are tensing and
scream in pain, but you can’t hear it. You can only hear the chants.
Your bed squeaks and creeks to a new weight. You don’t care. You don’t care
until the source pulls you close. They’re hot. His jacket envelops around you,
making your hair raise as you struggle against it. It’s too hot. You’re
unstable. You must rein yourself in.
A plop of fabric lands on the floor as you are grabbed and pulled. You squeak
in surprise as you are settled into a hard lap. Bone arms wrap around you
without the plushness covering the majority as it is discarded. Pulling you
close, you are pressed in a rough clavicle as a smooth jaw presses to the side
of your head. You’re shivering and trying to free yourself; you can’t be this
close.
“shhhh.” His voice is smooth and comforting. His grip isn’t restraining – it’s
comforting. He starts to rub circles around your spine as you grip his white
tank top. It’s white. Stained somewhat, but white. Beside it, his bones are a
different white. You force yourself to focus onto it. It was solid and
gradient, but somewhat smooth and more grey and yellow tinted. Withered.
“just breathe…” It’s like a tender command as you try and steady your breathing
and heartbeat. Hot biting tears roll down your cheeks as you press your face
into his clavicle. He gripped you tighter to him in response and nuzzled his
mouth in your hair.
“Hot…it’s hot.” You whimper, scrunching his shirt. You make out the windows
being forced open with a clatter as the night breeze washes through. It begins
to chill and freeze the sweat, but you would rather catch a cold then be stuck
in this heat any longer.
“’t’s alright. ssshhhhhh…” He decides to trade one arm off your back and into
your hair to caress your skull. Pressing you to his clavicle, you finally begin
to snap free of your illusion of darkness. The moons light is poking through
and past the curtains. It gives an ethereal glow to the stained shirt and bone.
Your muscles and limbs scream in agony to the new stimulation.
You push it all aside and accept the kindness you had grown numb to.
 
===============================================================================
 
You are faintly aware of the shattering of something by your doorway as you
force yourself to grumble and rouse awake. Your cheek hurts. A numb pain, yes.
Using your accumulated strength, you push off the mattress and sit up, rubbing
your tear dried eyes free of crust.
“That’s just disgusting…” A little shrill voice says. Must be Flowey. With a
groggy mind, you point a finger in the direction of the voice.
“You’re disgusting.” Great comeback.
Giving a few experimental blinks, you finally focus in on the door. Toriel,
Frisk and Flowey stand there. Flowey is looking like he is going to vomit, with
Frisk contrasting it with speechless amazement and excitement. Toriel is
covering all of her face and splitting her fingers to peer through her eyes.
“What?” You ask suddenly, aware these are not typical stares earned in the
morning. Looking down, you were, in fact, clothed. Alright.
Looking to the side, you propel yourself out of bed with a shriek. Well,
attempt. Lying beside and slightly atop you is Sans who has a strong arm
grasping your waist. Your front half falls off the beds edge and bashes against
the hardwood floor with a dull thud.
“Ooowww…. Sans!! What are you doing in my bed!?” You shriek, trying to pry his
arm off you. He growls as he snakes an eye open, tightening his grip.
“uugghhhhhh this isn’t how I wanted the day to start…” he grumbles, finally
relinquishing you as you fly off. Sitting up, he pops a few of his bones into
proper placement as he lidded eyes instantly bulge awake to the sight of Toriel
and Frisk.
Without a word, he slips through a void rip he makes beneath him on the
mattress.
“Traitor!!” You screech, glaring at the mattress. Toriel clears her throat as
she ushers Frisk and Flowey out of the room. Once out, she closes the door and
approaches with a tapping pawed foot.
“Care to explain?” Her voice is no longer friendly.
 
===============================================================================
 
Toriel couldn’t stop giggling at the prospect of Sans comforting you after a
nightmare. She keeps poking at hidden possibilities, but you wave it all off.
Once she leaves you alone, you take a long bath where the warm water isn’t the
only thing heating up your face.
Sans had seen one of your more weaker moments, and then slept with you. You
slept with a monster skeleton……Mirage can never know. You soak for a bit longer
until your fingers begin to prune and finally pull yourself out of the sudsy
water. Using a towel and drier, you comb through your hair. Toriel had made it
aware to everyone that until your magic reserves were refilled, you only needed
to change your appearance outside and around non-house members. Alphys was the
only one who seemed initially against it – mostly out of unfamiliar fear of
your eye. Staring back into the mirror and to your reflection, you ease your
mind and atleast camouflage your eyes. Best not to scare her so early in the
morning.
Throwing on a simple v-neck shirt and frill ended jeans, you prod your way
barefoot downstairs. You bring the crutch just incase; while you had more
strength then the previous day, you were still tripping up easily.
You bump into Asgore who is carrying a plate of pancakes with him towards the
stairs. It all smells delicious as he is surprised to see you at all.
“Oh my. Why are you down here?” Asgore asks, looking at the crutch.
“I can walk. Why wouldn’t I come down?” You raise your eyebrow as he sighs in
agreement. You refuse to stay in your room and be subjected to more stories
from Papyrus.
“Very well. Please understand, though, that we have……company.” Asgore whispers,
handing you the plate. The maple syrup seeping over the stacks edges smells
divine as an arrangement of fruits rests at the top.
“What kind of company?” You whisper back, already forcing yourself to put
effort into changing your hair color as well.
“A monster. His name is M-“ “METTATON!!” Papyrus’ voice of surprise shrieks
through the house as you hear bone clatter against something solid and a
silvery laugh passes through the house over Papyrus’ delighted squeals. Raising
an eyebrow, you look back to Asgore.
“He is a star. He was a ghost prior to his new body that Alphys crafted for him
long ago. He tends to visit to check in on Papyrus, Alphys, and Frisk.” Asgore
grins, leading the way.
“A star, huh? Never heard of him.” You contemplate openly, trying to think. His
name sounded familiar, but it wasn’t ringing any initial bells. Your hand
trembled slightly as you held the heavier then previously determined pancakes.
“Never ‘heard’ of me?!” A very odd pitched voice that sounds almost auto-tuned
suddenly breaks out as you round.
It’s a box. A metallic box with light squares for a face that is on a single
wheel and has cartoonish extend arms and Mickey Mouse gloves on. You cannot
handle the amount of confusion sweeping over your face as you discern from the
chatter Undyne and Sans giggling in the back. Before you can strike up
‘important’ conversation with Sans, the metallic square rolls forward.
“This simply cannot stand!” Refusing your protests, he takes the arm that was
steadied on a crutch as you wobble to keep yourself straight. Asgore takes up
your plate as you use the frame of the archway to stabilize yourself. The robot
held your hand gently and brought it to the center of his flashing lights. He
mimicked the sound of a peck and you received an ever so light zap of
electricity that gave off a warmth.
“On chante, chère humaine. It’s an honor to be in the presence of such a lovely
individual.” The squares on his light panels light up in the pattern of a
really badly shaped heart as his purring metallic voice cuts through the usual
chatter like a knife to heated butter. You can’t help the stunned uncertainty
meshing over your face.
“…Uuhhhhhh…..Hi?” You supply, pulling your hand back gingerly and waving before
placing your weight back into the crutch. You can still make out Undynes
chortling. Everything just feels awkward. His single wheel whirs as he slowly
circles around you. You try to crane your neck to have constant visual on him,
which isn’t honestly that difficult seeing as he is a large metallic square.
Alphys made him?
“Hhhmmm…. Yess……Yes, yes……you are perfect, darling!” He finalizes, coming to
your side. “How would you like to model my brand supplies?” Sans had been
drinking something red as he flinches and some dribbles out and onto his empty
plate. Undyne breaks down laughing before harshly slamming her fist into the
table as she fights tears. Alpyhs looks solemnly disappointed while Papyrus
contrasts her with invigorated joy.
“Model?.....Nah.” You finalize. Asgore had gone to the trouble of setting your
plate down and leaving – it seems he had work even though it was the weekend.
Frisk and Floweys plates were empty and you caught glimmers of his hair and
yellow petals zooming between the rooms.
“But, Darling! You have such flowing charisma, a splendor white toothed smile,
and an exquisite figure that must simply draw all the attention around you! Why
waste such a perfect opportunity?” He pleads as you try to move past.
“Dude, ask me later. Maybe after I eat. Or in a month. But definitely after I
eat. And punch Sans.”
Your voice is sweet and dripping with honey, but the last bit is a concealed
poison being chucked in one direction. Atleast the guilty party actually looks
guilty.
Chapter End Notes
     Hey,_come_check_out_and_comment_on_my_Tumblr!!
      
      
     Please leave a comment below! They really just fill me with glee :
     ) <3
***** Time for Pastries *****
Chapter Summary
     Rea tries getting a job. An odd job.
Chapter Notes
     Oh sweet jesus I AM ALIVE!!
     Sorry for the HUGE delay on chapters guys - I know you were getting
     antsy and I was screaming at myself for not getting anything out
     sooner!!
     Misery. Just - misery.
     But here it is. Not really long, but I literally deleted half of this
     because I had such trouble trying to write this out.
     I hope you appreciate the time I used to get this right in my eyes -
     I have seriously lost my punny skeleton touch I swear.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“BE SURE TO NOT STRAIN YOUR MUSCLES TODAY, REA! ONLY REST!” Papyrus calls out
with Mettaton leading the way as they both leave the front door with a mass of
plans listed out. Sans seemed adamant on the idea of his brother leaving for
the majority of the day and possibly not returning til the wee hours of
morning, but you couldn’t care less. Papyrus was a grown skeleton – grown
enough to have a job. He could take care on his own. Besides, it gave you a
chance to attempt to deck him outside the skull for all the shit he pulled. He,
however, is still a good dodger and seems to sense your every attempt.
Asgore is settling onto the couch and listening to the news while reading the
daily paper with far too tiny reading glasses as you are unsure what to do.
And then he makes the suggestion you get a job. You nearly scoffed at the
thought until he brought up the point you were eating the food they paid for
and would appreciate a sum since you ate plenty on your own. With a nervous
laughter and trepidation, you were thrown out and sentenced to hunt. Of course,
he’d sent Undyne and Alphys along for the trip to help you navigate the town.
Alphys had gone back into being reclusive and ensured that Undyne was
constantly in the center and her on the inner part of the sidewalk as everyone
made their way into the downtown area. You’d managed to resupply enough into
your magic reserves to continuously retain your human appearance without strain
as the stores come into view.
“Alright! Where do you think we should try first?!” Undyne shouts with
excitement while Alphys shies away.
“M-Maybe we could t-t-try the l-library?” Alphys suggests in a faint whisper.
Undyne nods in agreement before all of you are dragged along to the nearest
library. Which happens to not be monster friendly – you are all thrown out.
They apparently are losing business on the account they also don’t accept
monster associated humans.
“Rude witch!!” Undyne calls back in annoyance as you twitch to the reminder.
You don’t let it plague your thoughts like before as you scope around some
more. With a hint of dread and a grumbling stomach, you point over to a certain
establishment.
“Why don’t we try there?” You grumble, hoping it won’t actually work. The proof
that it didn’t work out the way you planned was the maniac laughter of Undyne
as she literally throws you over her shoulder and rushes you into Muffets
little bakery. Alphys keeps pace but ensures she doesn’t strain her shorter
legs and stamina as you all approach and enter with the tinkling of a signal
bell.
Muffet is at work organizing the display case as she peeks up above the glass
and grows a wide fanged smile.
“My oh my! Look what the web dragged in! Ahuhuu~” She coos, bringing her body
around the counter to judge your body once more. You sighed and cringed – she
would hire you in a heartbeat. She’d already explained you would be perfect for
the work uniforms thanks to your smaller physique. Looking over Muffets own
attire, you dreaded what you would be stuffed into as you sigh in defeat. It
was close to home, monster and human friendly so it was more likely to receive
both forms of gossip lingering around, it was a pit-stop of safety for Frisks
trek to and from school, and you already knew how to get here. It was a solid
deal, and you hated every moment.
“Yeah, uh….about that…” You groan, rubbing your neck in impatience. “Are you, I
don’t know……hiring?” The words practically hiss out of your tight mouth – you
can’t help the disgraceful point you have reached.
Muffet looks like she just won the lottery.
 ------------------------------------------------
Twenty minutes later and all you can do is regret your life. The papers are
filled out, application completed and handed in, and she is already taking
measurements of your entire body. Ensuring you that the outfit will be ready
tomorrow and you will work the day following that isn’t a great introduction as
she shoos you out to busy herself with work. Undyne continues to cackle
silently as Alphys is clearly lost in her own thoughts. At the very least, you
got spider donuts to go.
And the knowledge that there were no employee discounts following the job.
Sending a stray text to Asgore about getting the job is a bit breaking as you
need to come to terms with accepting your fate. You all take a small detour
into a nearby park as Alphys actually requests showing you around town.
“I-It will help wi-with familiarizing yourself with t-the area…” She commented
as she points out peculiar but hinting landmarks.
Within the park are little batches of children scattered and scurrying about
under the protective eye of their parents. Plenty of the folks see your little
entourage coming the moment you enter the park and compile their children under
their close protection or flat out leave without a care to their child’s cries.
Undyne clearly disapproves or is offended by the retreating humans, but she
doesn’t voice her opinion and instead offers a toothy smile to Alphys. With the
majority of the playground evacuated you, Alphys and Undyne meander over to the
swing set.
“Undyne!!” A little voice shouts from the distance. Looking off, there is a
group of human and monster children gathered in an area with Toriel on the
side. Frisk is waving over at your group along with the jumping monster child
that lacked arms. It was the one you assisted with their backpack the last time
you’d picked up Frisk. Alphys settled down on a swingset to teeter back and
forth while Undyne made a mad dash towards the uproaring and thrilled students.
You could see the twinge of regret in Toriels face before her maternal mask
came over and she watched with delight as Undyne tossed Frisk giddily into the
air. Atleast the students didn’t appear intimidated by Undyne; they were lining
up to be tossed towards the sky. Settling back with a creak of the swings seat
you sway in silence besides Alphys.
The birds and insects screech and create their own bands in the spring swelter.
Flower buds are trying to blossom and absorb the sun. A few fresh puddles from
a recent shower still remain as giggling children stomp around without a care
in the world. Smiling and holding onto the connecting chains, you swing enough
to atleast get minor air.
“Th-this is perfect.” You hear Alphys whisper as you slow your swinging to
glance over at her. She is watching Undyne from the distance with a faint blush
and the sincerest of smiles.
“What is?” You ask. Your voice spokes her as she teeters and nearly slips from
her seat. She fidgets and does her best to avoid eyecontact.
“U-Um, w-well, th-the day. The su-sun. Spring…..This.” She weakly gestures
around to the serene park setting. You take it in, trying to see things from
her perspective. While the monsters had been up here for plenty of time, you
supposed that the surface would take a lot longer to sink in. The seasons, the
years. The world around them no longer being restrained by darkness and walls.
Tilting back in your seat, you look to the cloud bountiful sky mixing and
meshing with hues of blue.
“Mmm. I see your point…..Yeah – this is a nice day. It won’t be the only one
either. You guys will have plenty; that includes the bad days. But they are
still days up here.” You comment, looking to the wood chips beneath your feet
and kicking a few from your path.
“I-I-I h-hope so…” Alphys sighs, but there is a hint of relief in her scales
relaxation. Feeling her need to let loose some, you exaggerate your leg pumping
to swing back and forth and gain her attention. She, after all, hadn’t even
tried to swing. It was often freeing. She seems to stutter and then divert her
focus into her own legs before giving it a try. Despite her short and stubbly
legs, she manages to get some motion and a radiance of pride swells off her for
the slightest of moments. After that, it’s just pleasing silence as you sit and
allow the wind to catch your hair.
A faint whispering murmur catches your ear along the careful breeze as you
faintly twist your head to peer past Alphys’ swinging.
“Honestly – why do they have to be out in public?” A trio of women are glaring
at Toriels little group as they remain huddled together.
“Poor things. How can their parents allow them to co-mingle?” Another woman
hisses as the first nods in agreement.
“I’d never let my child near monsters. It’s a death wish.”
“Disgusting, to be frank.” The second chimes in as she and the first giggle in
unison. The third seems to have a deeper hatred towards monsters, but you’ve
heard enough. Skidding to a stop and vaulting into the woodchips, you quickly
circle around her and make your way towards the women.
“Truly the monsters in this town are the people who can’t keep their fat mouths
shut and let people live their lives.” You point out as the trio jolts in
surprise to your lurking presence.
“Monsters aren’t people. They are a disgrace. Should have been killed off all
those years ago.” Its that third woman again – the one with a bit more beef
against them.
“Monsters. People. What does it matter at this point? They are willing to pay
taxes. They are actually more forgiving then actual people. Hell; they’re even
better friends. I think humanity should be the annihilated species. Or atleast
you – what have you done for this city? This world?” You scoff with a bit of
cheek. This woman doesn’t back down like the others as they try to pull her
away – to distance from you.
“Ha! Like you can say anything yourself! What have youdone?” She fires back as
you crack a grin.
“Me? Me and a skeleton monster dual team destroyedthis ancient squid that
emerged last week. It was epic. Could have drowned the entire world now that I
recall……oh well. Glad we had this little educational experience. Hope you
learned to not be a bitch in public.” You chuckle with a wave from behind. You
faintly hear the woman struggling in her friends grips as she tries to come at
you.
“You freak!!” She hollers back with a huff and storms away from the park with
the other women in tow. Returning back to the park swings, Alphys had watched
the entire interaction with a hint of trepidation. She frowned upon seeing your
face.
“Wh-whats wrong?” She hesitantly asks as you plop yourself back into the seat.
Your past swirls into view and towards your eyes before you shake it off
vigorously and blot your eyes with the base of your palm.
“Yeah. Fine – I’m fine.” You assure her as you stare off into space. It’s a
reminder of the past, in complete honesty, but that’s none of her business nor
concern. A hand reaches and grasps your shoulder as you spark with surprise.
Reaching back to vault the unknown person from behind, their presence seems to
have vanished from thin air before Sans appears beside Alphys who’s little
heart must stop in surprise. Giving a rough groan you stare back at him.
“Rude to sneak up on people.” You quickly comment, refocusing back onto the
swing.
“you callin’ me a sneaker?” He chuckles before squeaking his shoes against the
sidewalk. Leaning against the swings support poles, he stares ideally over you
both. Alphys gets a little chuckle out of it atleast.
“Di-did you finish up w-work?” Alphys asks quietly as she gradually slows down.
“Sans works?” You sarcastically chuckle; you know full well he has more than
one job. He doesn’t comment on it but instead offers Alphys a simple shrug.
“’Bout ‘s finished with it ‘s I am Fluffy Bunny.” He chuckles while looking
back in the distance at Toriels little group. She and Undyne seem to have
simply begun co-teaching the class. You all share a brief smile before you roll
your head and pop your neck joints.
“As nice as this day is, I’d like to head home. Do I need permission?” You joke
as you lean back in your seat.
“N-N-No. Yo-you can go ahead i-if you want.” Alphys replies which is your
signal to jump. Rocketing back and forth to get ample amount of propulsion, you
throw yourself off at the highest peak and launch yourself into an in-ground
portal you make at the last moment. Following it through with simply the last
used gravity as your guide, you finally make it back.
And into a tree.
Everyone is settled down at the dinner table as you fidget with your fingers.
Your hands had been cut to shit thanks to the branches you’d descended into,
but a little healing magic and nobody could tell the difference as the food is
handed around. You are already salivating at the divine smell coming off the
lasagna dish along with the freshly baked garlic bread and snail pie. You
hadn’t tried the snail pie yet, but Toriels cooking and baking skills seemed
trustworthy enough that you scoop up a slice.
“NYEH-HEH-HEH!! YOUR MAJESTY, THIS LASAGNA IS EXCELLENT! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS,
AM HONORED YOU ATTEMPTED SUCH A RESPECTED NOODLE DISH!” Papyrus exclaims as he
nearly eats an entire square. He seems to find his manners and tries
desperately to cut the slice without it cascading apart.
“Why thank you Papyrus. I had some extra time and decided it would be nice to
give it some extra time.” Toriel has the faintest bashful blush covering her
face as she helps Frisk and Flowey with their plate portions. Frisk has a
little bruise on his arm and face, beside a fitting cut. Atleast you presume it
– he has a band-aid covering his little cheek.
“So, uh, Frisk. What happened?” You question, indicating to their cheek. Frisk
just absentmindedly pokes at their broccoli and potatoes.
“Oh – he and Undyne played a little rough. He’s also been very clumsy recently.
Sweetie, I can heal them if you would like.” Toriel offers, extending a loving
hand toward her child. Frisk actually shies away and nudges closer to the
opposing side of his chair. Flowey is of few words, but the brunt of the denial
is a little saddening to Toriel as she cautiously withdraws her hand. You don’t
falter as you stare at the child. Intothe child.
It pulsates. Their venom pool.
Swiftly you stand and circle around the table before scooping the child over
your shoulder.
“Sorry. Gotta have a chat with Mr. Liar.” you mumble as you quickly bring the
child outside. He tries to break free of your grasp which is pitifully
laughable, but you certainly aren’t enjoying this. Setting Frisk to the side
you try to relax him as you feel the channeling of his flow. Its small – but
definitely building. Squatting down to the childs height, Frisk refuses to make
eye contact.
He is quite terrible at keeping secrets… You giggle inside your head before
regaining your focus.
“Frisk, I’ll admit you can be clumsy, but lying isn’t your strong point.” You
gently chuckle. Placing your hands over his small shoulders he cranes his head
to meet your gaze with guilt rubbed eyes. They contain the tiniest hint of
tears.
“I can help you. Dispel it – your anger, your fear, your sadness, your pain.
You know you can rely on me when it comes to magic. But I can’t help you until
I understand whats happening to cause this. Your venom pool is bubbling up
kiddo; you keep going like this and there aren’t good endings. Best to burst
when small and harmless.” You instruct. It seems to be just the trigger as
Frisk begins to sniffle and shudder.  
“School…”He tattles over your private channel.
“What happened?”You plead. He comes closer and clutches onto your shirt before
burying his head into your shoulder.
“The kids. They pick on MK. They push him around. I step in and they push me
around.”He relays as you grumble and hug Frisk close.
“Why haven’t you told your mother? Weren’t we getting better at letting family
know when you are hurting?”You ask as guilt seems to rise through his being.
Likely not the best time to be guilting the kid.
Extracting Frisk from your front, you lean back onto the stone path and place
Frisk into your lap.
“Alright Frisk. Thank you for atleast telling me. You should know you can talk
to me about any of this stuff – the stuff you can’t tell your mom or dad. But
this will help; if I know whats effecting your emotions and what-not, I can
help you keep control and teach you how to release that negative energy.” You
explain with a tiny smile. “We are going to do a little exercise – releasing
that energy now before it gets a chance to build is a lot safer. I just gotta
let your parents know, alright? Its best to not do this here so we’ll need to
take a quick fieldtrip.”Patting his head and with a sniffling nod you extract
the child off your lap and dust yourself off before heading inside.
“J-Just-“ Frisk calls as you pause and wait for the rest of the difficult
sentence. Frisk fidgets quietly, not bringing anything else up. You sigh and
give and return to the child to give him what you hope is a reassuring pat on
the head before slinking back inside to somehow explain to the parents how you
need to pull their kid through an endless existent plane just to help him cool
off.  
Returning inside, there was light laughter at the dinner table and Papyrus
keeled backwards over his seat covering his face with his mitts. Sans was
almost instantly the center of the blame, but that never seemed to change.
Sidling over to Toriels side you give her shoulder a light tap of intrusion.
“Oh! Is everything alright?” She asks warmly. Her smile seems to fade as she
notices Frisk remained outside instead of returning in for dinner.
“Uh, yeah, he just needs to, y’know…” You rub the back of your neck as you make
a little explosion gesture with your hand and pop your lips. Toriel understands
immediately and  flinches in her seat, eyes dilating. “Hey – hey hey hey. He is
fine. We just gotta take a little road trip; for safety measures.” Toriel
stands immediately and excuses both you and her to the kitchen; away from the
chatter. Pulling you to side, she speaks in a rushed and hushed voice.
“Safety measures?!” She hisses as you cringe.
“Look – remember earlier about that whole explanation of how I popped? He is on
his way to that stage. We are nipping it figuratively in the butt before it has
time to fester.” You explain as Toriel drinks in the new information. Tears
prickle into her eyes as she covers her snout.
“How could this have happened….” She whispers past a faint sob. The only
condolence you can offer is patting her shoulder, but swiveling your head
around to the outside once more resets your priorities as you return to the
backyard. Frisk is waiting patiently as you walk to the side of the child.
Hoisting Frisk into your arms like a toddler, they seem hesitant as you draw
out an arm.
“Close your eyes and hold onto my neck. Don’t let go until I tell you it’s okay
to do so; do you understand?” You instruct Frisk with a clear voice. He nods
against you and nestles into your necks crook. With careful and gentle
breathing, you open a clean rift into the void to make up for the past
catastrophic looking one you’d hastily ripped apart and walk through. You don’t
delay yourself once inside – the quicker and more seldom Frisk spends within
this nothingness, the better and less trouble you will experience with his
parents later on.
Finding solitude in an open field, you pat Frisks back with reassurance after
you seal over the exit.
“Alright champ – we’re out. You can let go now.” You inform him as he quickly
unclings from you and takes a hesitant step back. Fear shivers over his being –
likely never experienced a trip like that before. You come up to kneel beside
him, cautiously placing your hand onto his shoulder.
“Hey. You’re gonna be alright. Let’s just do this and get you home before your
food catches cold, huh?” You poke fun with your finger at his side as he
finally lets a tiny giggle escape before you both settle into the thinned
grass. To allow Frisk a better sense of privacy, you connect your soul
wavelengths and speak without your true voice. It seems to help settle his
tension.
“Alright. Tell me what has been bothering you. It will help emotionally and
magically; I promise.”You start off as Frisk sits adjacent from you.
“These…these kids at school. They pick on MK. About how he falls or is
‘annoying’.”Already you can discern the harsh tone in his thoughts as Frisks
face tightens.
“They don’t even give him a chance! He is a great friend and they just don’t
understand like I do. When I step in and try to tell them to leave him alone,
they turn on me and say I’m no better than the monsters. But it’s not my fault
they wont listen!” Frisk retorts with anger clenching his fists tightly
together.
“It certainly isn’t Frisk. And not everyone can be changed so easily. It simply
can’t be done the same way it is with monsters, but your efforts are valiant.”
You calmly remind him as Frisk begins to vibrate with tears in their eyes.
“No! You don’t understand! They don’t understand!” Frisk practically screams
with tears biting at his eyes. The Eskaria pouch grows in size, painful and
electric – you watch it closely as your eye begins to swell with magic. You
shift your knees into a more prepared position before continuing – continuing
to encourage aggression.
“Of course I understand you Frisk. Why do you think I dragged you out here?”
“Fo-For more magic lessons that I-I don’t know if they’ll help! How will this
help me protect MK?” Frisk pleads, clutching his head in misery.
“You can’t protect MK, Frisk. You are only one kid who is only learning. You
can’t” You urge as he defiantly throws his head side to side in disagreement.
You turn into more of a kneeling position and ready your arm.
“Frisk. Listen to me. You can’t protect him. Not from everything.”
“SHUT UP!!” Frisk surprises you with his actual voice. Its still enough to snap
your attention away the split moment it matters. Stumbling but suddenly lunging
forward, you connect your index and middle fingers directly into Frisks belly
button. Throwing your other arm back, your delay and lack of concentration
leads to a flimsy discharge as you instantly sap out the manifesting energy
crackling within Frisk. He gives a small yelp and falls back as the current
hazardously runs through your body. It tightens and cracks your bones and
nerves as it finally dispels from the other arm and out into the sky with a
foreboding crackle. Your true concern lies in its color – it is pure red and
white, unlike any you had seen before. Malice. Hatred.
Hissing as a searing shock pain runs through your arms and clavicle, you blow
out some steam and relax your muscles before attending to Frisk. Tears bite at
his eyes as he feels around his stomach before looking back at you. Seeing your
face traced with contorted pain and his own emotions finally falling into
sadness, he crumples up into your lap and hugs at your waist. Silent tears
trickle down their eyes as you hug them close.
“Shh. Shhhh. I know – it hurts and then you feel empty. I know. I swear, it’ll
heal. Sshhh just….just talk. It helps – I promise you. Never be afraid to
explain your feelings, your emotions, anything to me. That’s why I am here; to
help and train you to control yourself when stretched so thin. Letting this
accumulate is dangerous…for us both.” You comment, looking at your arms. The
nerves are once more shot as you try to relax the spasms. Frisk nods against
you and you hoist them into your arms before looking off into the night sky.
“Hold onto me. We’re heading home. I need you to talk to your mom and dad – can
you do that?” You plead as he gives an assuring nod. Stepping into a tiny rift,
you float your way home with slight haste but taking enough caution to ensure
Frisks safety. Stepping out, the house is a little darker, but a few stray
lights still illuminate the insides. Creaking open the back door after closing
the rift, you peak around the kitchen with the sniffling Frisk. Toriel made
sure to wrap and place Frisks and your dinner into the microwave. At the
moment, you aren’t hungering for the meal as you adjust Frisk in your grasp.
“Hungry?” You ask politely through the soul wavelength. Would hate to disturb
them at the late hour it was. Were had the time gone? Regardless, Frisk leans
more into you and with a shake of the head you decide neither of you are
willing to eat. Likely a lost appetite, you ponder while placing the meals in
the fridge. Tip-toeing through the house, you shouldn’t be surprised to catch
Asgore and Toriel snuggling by the fireplace reading books. Coming around the
hallway corner with Frisk cradled in your arms, Toriel removes her reading
glasses and looks upon both of you before rousing Asgore who had fallen asleep
against the arm. There is silence past the crackling fire and chirping crickets
of the night. No words seem to be necessary as you walk over to the quaint
couple and relinquish Frisk into Asgores arms. Sharing a quick understanding
glance with Toriel, you swiftly and silently ascend the stairs as Frisks sad
muffled sobs rake through the echoing house.
 -----------------------------------------------
With an anguishing groan you are almost positive that Papyrus just exited the
house since the door slammed and his enthusiastic laugh roared out and through
your open window. Stretching and popping the joints in your body you rub your
weary eyes and stumble your way to the bathroom. Hissing and relaxing as you
slid into a prepared and bubbling warm bath you make sure that the water and
suds clean the grime, grass and sweat accumulated into your locks while
unknotting the tangled mess from your midnight tirade of sleep.
Even with the ever slight hue of pink in the bathtub seeping into the water,
the lukewarm bath is exactly what you need as your arms soak and relax at long
last from their tensed state. You mindlessly scrub your legs and feet for any
persistent vegetation and muck that might’ve stuck to you uselessly and find
yourself leaning back against the wall in thought.
Red lighting………certainly foreboding, if anything. From what Frisk explained and
simply based off his attitude to the overall world, it seemed nay impossible
for him to be able to conjure and produce such hatred from such small acts.
Granted, to Frisk they may not be small – but the bolt was nearly made purely
on aggressive energy alone. Groaning with a backward tilt of the head you can
only blame your stumble for not being completely on point with the negative
rejection.
Stepping out and draining the water you contemplate on just how many more times
you can manage that aggressive current. Maybe it would be wiser to start off
with emotion control and counter balance if the bullying persists. Now you can
only rely on Toriel to try and make things atleast more manageable.
Brushing your teeth, drying your hair, clothing your body? All of it is
mindless in your seek for answers and possible routes to approach this new
development with Frisk. A mage based off the kindness and love from others
couldn’t contain that much malicious intent without a dual source – something
working like a charm that is truly a parasite.
Stumbling downstairs with a simple t-shirt and torn jeans, the cold stairs
against your slightly damp feet is an eye opener as you crack your neck and
descend to the lowest level. The house is fairly quiet past some chatter in the
dining area. You ignore it and set your sights to the fridge for a morning
glass of milk and maybe an orange. Reaching your destination comes with two
prizes : the milk and orange you’d yearned for, and Undyne barreling into you
so fast you nearly get thrown into the fridge. She manages to catch the milk
while your sudden startle kills the orange forever in your contorted vice grip.
Glaring behind you at her you feel your own hatred grow and swell – though that
means little. Taking a deep breath and turning about you wipe the splattered
orange from off your face and try to shake any remnants from your shirt and
pants.
“What the hell do you think bashing into me from behind this early in the
morning is going to cau-“
“You got two packages!” Undyne shouts in exaggeration before hooking her arm
around yours and dragging you by the elbow into the dining room. Asgore, Sans,
and Alphys are still inside and puzzling over the packages. While one of them
is clearly a trademark package from Muffets; what with its numerous logos and
the address sender pointing to only one suspect, the other is mysterious. And
otherworldly. Gray and white with patches of metal to keep from investigating
eyes prying. You know exactlywho it’s from.
“Strange capsule. Do you know who this is from Rea? Its addressed to
your….’code name’?” Asgore asks as Undyne drags you over – still un-
relinquishing of the milk.
“Mhmm. Yeah.” You yawn before flipping the package. One of the metallic panels
has an odd series of deranged and misshapen buttons. You click your jaw and
rapidly press a certain combination of the buttons before it gives an approving
beep and the largest metal patch flings off and nearly hits the above light-
fixture. Alphys certainly isn’t prepared as she gives a slight shriek and backs
away.
“Ah. Sorry. Shoulda warned you.” You grumble reaching inside the opening and
feeling around before you find the button sized tracker inside and produce it
in your hands, checking the features. The capsule package is a storing
mechanism for the dimensional trackers you use. Forge always made a batch and
just kinda chucked them into ‘the between’ with a tracker pulling it towards
your soul. It would reach you one way or another and you were thankful since
you’d used the last one you had recently. Sighing with a smile, you place the
tracker back into the little box and place it to the side. You groan and shimmy
over to the Muffets box that Sans has been eagerly eyeing a bit too much.
“Didn’t know you were a morning person.” You groan, peeling off the tape from
the cardboard container.
“the yeast I can do is see this go down.” He mumbles with a dozing grin. You
feel a pang of regret as the cardboard finally opens and the first thing you
see is a deep burgundy red with lace. Pulling out the clothing, you feel your
soul drop and your face flush as you try to collect your work uniform.
The skirt frills and poofs out masterfully with an embroidered lace at the
lining. Buttons and ribbons adorn the little pockets on the sides of the skirt
beside the red and white accents as you trace the frills with your eyes. The
top of the dress certainly accentuates your breasts and shoulders – it
specifically has little cup placements with thumb length straps connecting the
top around your body. Halfway to your elbow are draping sleeves that have a
prominent bulge at your wrist before wrinkling off. While the sleeves and lower
half of the dress are a greyish black with a tint of pink here and there along
with lace, the upper body is a crimson color and practically looks like a
bodice.
“you should see your lace. it’s pretty rad.” Sans pokes fun with a snicker as
he feels the fabric and lacing of your uniform. You set your elbows onto the
table to groan and grumble into your hands. Undyne has resorted to laughing in
the corner, choking back on tears. Even Asgore is having a laugh. Asgore.
Looking back up to your demise you find Alphys has intruded to inspect the fine
lining.
“T-This is incredibly done! A-All in o-one night too! Oh! Oh-Oh-Oh i-if you
wore this t-to the Centro Community Comic-Con n-next month, i-it would make a
re-really nice cosplay for episode 23 of Mew Mew Kissie Cutie 4 where the
heroine has to go save her comrades from the evil clutches of Nastirator!”
Alphys screams with glowing eyes but shrinks her enthusiasm as you glare down
over her.
“I am not wearing this to work, letalone a cosplay convention Alphys.” You warn
as she shies away to the still tearing up Undyne.
“hey, could be worse. she really held back on the frills this time. last gal
who worked there had so many frills she looked like one of the pastries. pretty
dough eyes and everything.” Sans remarks with a wink.
“I swear to all of God you are going back down first if I must…” You mutter in
agony as the realization hits you. You start work. Today.
Hoisting up the packages into your arms, you retreat to your room in flushed
embarrassment before looking back over the outfit. While you could certainly
appreciate that craftminship put into the dress in such a short time, there was
no getting around how uncomfortable and embarrassing this was going to be.
Finding a safe set of underwear to wear to compliment and deter onlookers, you
slip into the outfit. Its plush and silk on the inside but not so condensed it
will keep you sweaty and uncomfortable. The sleeves fit and accentuate your
wrists while the tips of your pale shoulders buldge out from the purposeful
opening. Feeling over the bodice and the buttoning blouse portion the dress
overall feels very comfortable until you glance into the mirror. Crumbling in
on yourself, you refuse to let anyone see you like this as you take a risky
move. Pinning your hair back into a ponytail and making sure the leggings you
choose are workable with, you groan with regret when you look back into the
package to find she even sent you shoes. Heels at that. Putting them onto your
feet, you aren’t surprised that they’re a perfect fit and have a velvet bottom
to keep your feet from cramping. The only other advantage is it makes you
taller then Sans. But you cannot even wallow in that victory because you
wouldn’t let Sans or anyonecatch you dead in this outfit.
Cutting a hasty rift into the void you hurl yourself in with little grace to
just speed up initially and get to Muffets faster. You bring a tracking clip to
place onto Muffets to make locating the place easier as you try and control
your embarrassment and shame. You catch yourself coming out in the side alley
to the store. Hastily, you run into the back entrance Muffet had informed you
about and walk through the cobweb ridden halls. Knocking on Muffets office, you
fidget in the dress as heels clatter behind the closed door. She may be the
only one who knows (thanks to your application) that you hadn’t had a paying
job ever. She opens the door and all of her eyes grow wide with a following
gasp while you try and crumple in on yourself.
“Darling you look positively adorable!!!”She screeches, quickly combing over
your entire body with her eyes and adjusting a few of the laces.
“Can’t I have, like, a butlers outfit? I look like a maid. I’d
like…y’know………pants?” You cringe while looking to your stocking covered legs.
“Oh no dearie! It would ruin your child-like charms! Come along now!” She
enthuses with a low giggle before dragging you along. Child-like? Looking down
at your features, how can a child-like figure have exaggerated breasts? Muffet
pulls you up front to the sales area – the place you’d dreaded the most.
“Alrighty dearie. The individual pastries are already installed into the little
machine. Alls you need to do is greet the customers with that vibrant little
smile, fetch their order with a little sway, and take their money with your
little hands~” She coos while spinning and tipping her head.
“…Why are you exaggerating the little part.” You grumble as you ruffle your
hand over your face and through your hair.
“Fuhuhu! Oh dearie, you’re such a cutie!” Muffet giggles as she uses her spare
arms to pinch your cheeks affectionately.
Muffet spends some more time in the front helping you to familiarize with the
products she carries, the locations of the buttons, and exactly how to properly
earn tips. You think the tips might just be her own benefit as she is literally
throwing you to the hounds. Leaving you an extra spare minutes to let yourself
attune to the new surroundings you locate all the cleaning utensils, memorize
the layout of the cash register and the drawer contents, and try to talk to
some of the onlooking spiders in the shops corner. Looking to the clock and
taking a deep breath you choose now to put up the ‘OPEN’ sign in the window but
the ringing of the doors bell alerts you as you startle and calm your nerves.
Fixing what you hope is a decent smile, you turn to greet the customers to only
catch Undyne trying her intensely to not sputter into laughter. Instantly your
eye flares in embarrassment and you drop behind the counter and cover your
face.
Past Undynes boisterous laughter you hear the tapping of bone against metal
followed with the ringing of the counter bell. You peek over the edge with a
completely red face to glare daggers of lightning at Sans.
“heya.”
“Get out.” You plead, trying to remain as hidden as possible. Sans lets a loose
snort as Undyne clears tears from her eye and comes to the edge of the counter.
Reaching around and grabbing the strap she hoists you into view and gives a
whistle.
“Haha! Suits ya!” She guffaws as you cross your arms to best hide your upper
body.
“Oh can it! Are you going to order something or not?” You grumble, looking at
the selection.
“easy there. wouldn’t want me to complain to the head honcho, would ye?” Sans
raises an invisible brow as he bone melds to the motion. You can feel 5 eyes
glaring into your back as you try to breathe and unstiffen.
“Think nothing of it, SIR. How can I help you today, SIR?” You punctuate as you
try to keep your grin from going crooked. Sans doesn’t openly hold back on his
laughter, but remains on the down low as he looks over the menu.
“I’m getting me and Alph one of the pound cakes! Think Paps would like some
cider?” Undyne asks as you fumble around to get a to-go bag.
“eh. probably. heard he has to deal with the world wide web today.” Sans
chuckles with a snicker as you and Undyne both grow.
“Absolutely hilarious…” You grumble as you pick up the cake. You weren’t
expecting it to actuallyweigh a pound, but it doesn’t stop you from managing to
get it into the baggy. Snatching a cider from the cooler and bringing the
orders over towards the cash-register. You catch a loose pigtail belonging only
to Muffet and ignore her peeping as you attend to Undyne and Sans.
“Alright.” You comment, placing both the orders down and staring at the
machine… to which you have already forgotten how to locate the items. You must
be staring at the computer for nearly a minute or two before Undyne clears her
throat.
“Pound cake and Cider.” She clarifies, looking between you and the order.
“I can see, Undyne. I am just finding the order on the machine so I can know
the amount you owe.” You inform her, looking back towards the screen.
“heh. guess its free.” Sans shrugs with a wide grin.
“A  It’s not free and B  Just give me a moment.” You groan while looking over
the options. You hate doing something to only discover it was wrong and have to
fix the error and restart, but your mind struggles to recall the sequence.
“ya don’t get better at this you’ll have trouble at femur hour.” He smirks as
you begin to sweat with concern.
“Femur? Really dude? It is never called a fever hour.” Undyne remarks with a
scoff and placing her hand on her hips. Sure of your choice, you ready you
finger close to the touch screen before immediately hesitating and just
hovering. Hovering and concerning. Then you simply go blank – not a single
memory. You can’t decide. You can’t mess this up. Everyone’s watching, waiting
– expecting something from you. You can’t decide. It’s driving you mad.
“hey, uh, smalls, you catchin’ a femur yourself?”
“C’mon dude – can’t use the same joke twice…….Hey, Rea?”
There’s a distinct snapping by your ear and face, but it can’t pull you from
the trembling stare you have fixated on the screen. Before long a quick tapping
of fingers pressing against the screen and muffled voices join together as a
hand grasps your shoulder and gives you a waking shake. Gasping and snapping
your head around, Muffet is putting the required change into the register and
waving Sans and Undyne off.
“Have a great day dearies!” She calls as the door closes tight behind them. Not
a second later she spins you around and has two hands pushed against your head
and cheeks. “Are you alright? You dazed out – do you need a doctor sweetie?”
She asks thoughtfully as you gently pull your face away from her prying.
“No-no. I’m…okay. I just didn’t…remember. The-the code input. Not knowing
kinda…stresses me out.” You fidget with your sleeve as Muffet giggles softly.
“It’s alright, dearie. That’s why I’m here! New job, first job, needs to be
slow and helpful. If you ever get stuck, I’m right beyond the door – there is
no shame in seeking help from peers! Besides, time is money and wasting
customers time isn’t helpful to sales. If your ever stumped just give me a
call.” She teases with a shy swat of the hands. You focus on breathing and
wiping the accumulated sweat from your forehead before transfixing a determined
stare onto Muffet. You weren’t letting anyone down – not anymore.
“I understand. Thank you for this chance.” You assert as she gives another
giggle.
“Alright! Lets have some sales, dearies!!” She calls out as a trio of spiders
drop down and attach the ‘OPEN’ sign to the window. With a sense of purpose,
you position yourself and begin memorizing for the next customer.
 ----------------------------------------------------
“Damn that was weird. Didn’t know Muffet could make someone so terrifying look
so kawaii!” Undyne laughs boisterously as she carries the heavy goodies.
“Think she’ll be alright? I know it was your idea to visit, but I don’t think
she was ready for that.” Undyne remarks. After a tad of silence, she stops and
looks behind to find Sans a few paces back, looking back towards the store as
the first true customer enters with a tired grin.
“yeah…” He whispers before shoving his hands into his pockets and walking by
Undyne. Confused but unquestioning, she follows him down the street and back
home with their spoils.
Chapter End Notes
     Hope I didn't disappoint!
     Please leave comments down below - or if you want to stay more
     private you can always send me questions and asks at my tumblr!! ---
     - Heyo_Here's_the_Link!!
***** Time to Try *****
Chapter Summary
     Rea is struggling here and there...
Chapter Notes
     Holy fuck its done!! Woo!! Pulled an all-nighter on this one, but
     here it is!!
     HOT damn...
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Time seems to loom on as the day eggs on. You eventually give in after nearly
an hour of trials and errors regarding the confound cash register and decide to
make a code cheat sheet to hide beneath the register in case of emergencies.
The swelling concern of failure loomed too heavily until it drove you to the
point on insanity before you finally scrawled hastily the input numbers and
prices necessary. While some orders were fairly easy to assist with, a few
stray customers had very specific needs to the point of border narcissism. You
handled your temper as best as possible before your brain flat-wired and Muffet
would step it. Then again, Muffet seemed incapable of handling the more
demanding clientele as well.
“Dearie? What seems to be the matter?” Muffet asks quickly from behind which
startles you; guilt pouring into your mind. You aren’t even allowed to manage a
word out as the woman before you scoffs.
“Oh please tell me you are the manager or something! I’ve been waiting for 5
minutes for this dunce to get me a simple spider donut, 2 ciders, and 8 of your
other pastries! I don’t care which so long as they are under 10 dollars – be
quick, won’t you?”  The woman groans impatiently, her foot tapping in time as
the customers behind her scoff at the ignorance. There was physically no
possible way to bring her order to under 10 dollars and you weren’t allowed to
pick stuff at random without Muffets guidance.
“I’m sorry dearie, but the love of these pastries takes money to make. You can
get the donut, ciders, and 2 other pastries for under 10 dollars, but
everything else would bring it above 20. You understand, yes?” Muffet calmly
explains, gesturing to the menu.
“Then just give me a discount. I don’t have time for this.”
Discount seems to be a trigger word for Muffet as you watch on with fearful
eyes – the aggressive baking glint gleaming in each of Muffets gaze.
“A discount dearie? My – I haven’t seen you offer, do, or provide anything to
my bakery! You pay like the others pay, sweetie! Or would you like some more
salt with your breakfast?” Muffet glares at the woman who gasps in surprise and
storms out of the store, pockets full and hands as empty as she had arrived.
You are still caught in a state of shock as Muffet assists and apologizes to
the rest of the awaiting line, helping you gather the necessary orders, and
continuing to guide you through the check-out process. While by the end of the
day it is certainly easier to understand you aren’t completely there during the
end of the day as you gladly pin the ‘Closed’ sign up.
Muffet keeps you behind after hours to discuss your ethic, mobility, and a
multiple other things.
“You are doing fine out there dearie – just keep your head high and make sure
to offer them the 3 for 4 deal~” Muffet giggles with a farewell wave, even
giving you a slightly broken pastry to take home as a reward well done as she
sends you on your way. You check-out and heave a sigh – maintaining appearances
during work hours was going to be harsher then you had realized as you discover
it was nearly 8 P.M. It didn’t help that the malicious bolt from the other day
that you extracted from Frisk still riddled your arms with tense nerves that
jolted throughout the day. Cutting a tear would be risky, but walking down the
street in your uniform was more embarrassing then words could likely describe.
Unsure, you peeked down the side-walk to test the number of passerby’s. After
scouting out atleast 6 people in such a short time-frame it became clear you
wouldn’t be walking home tonight. Your feet probably wouldn’t appreciate the
extended pressure any longer either.
Taking a deep breath and regaining focus, you tear a rip against the opposing
building in the back entrance to Muffets and jump through. Floating through the
Void is a lot more relaxing now that you experienced your first day of work.
Your phone sends a startling ping from your pocket as you fish it out, still
flowing towards the source you had become familiar with.
 Mir : Hey hey! Did you hear from base yet?!
You groan and roll your eyes – as if you knew anything going on regarding the
HQ. You quickly tap your fingers across the screen in reply.
Rea : Do you forget I am not there and therefore have no way of hearing about
shit? Whats up? P.S – Thank Tic-Tac for the package- I received it earlier.
You huff and deposit the phone back into your pocket. Hopefully he would get
the message. Mirage had a tendency to get lost in thought and dreams, but a
text carried over and lasted so it was much less likely she would forget.
Finally you find the rift into your room and plop face first into bed. You
grumble and rustle until you manage to sneak beneath the covers – clothed and
exhausted. Too exhausted to even remove the slowly blistering heels from your
feet. Sleep threatens to invade your thoughts as you fiddle around with the
pastry in your pocket and eat nearly half of it into one bite – you had
completely forgotten that humans had regulated lunch breaks during lengthy work
hours and thusy had no lunch for the afternoon. Muffet had offered to let you
buy discount pastries because she’d rather give you a discount when you needed
food then just a general, but you told her it was fine to simply get a short
break. In reality, you didn’t have the money even for the discounted treats.
The wonderful smelling food looming behind you the entire day was similar to
light torture. The pastry was nearly consumed as you reviewed your sleeping
choices. You had to work again tomorrow, and it was another lengthy shift.
Although you would also prefer to avoid the dinner talk tonight – the memories
of Sans and Undynes quick visit sending an embarrassed blush over your cheeks.
Sleep was more then tempting, but there was work to be done that would be best
to nip in the butt earlier then later when your schedule could possibly prove
hectic.
Regretfully you extract yourself from the bed. The cool night air slips through
the crack in your window as you shut and lock it tight, drawing the curtains to
shield the room from the faint moon light and any stray prying eyes. You
proceed to the front door as you lock it as well, before finally feeling safe
enough to undo the uniform and be free from the clinging waistline. You hang it
onto the side, planning to clean it once the household was all to rest. You
quickly discard the clinging bra as well, opting for a slack t-shirt and fuzzy
PJ pants instead. You check back onto your phone in anticipation for Mirages
text, but it has yet to arrive.
You sneak into your enchanted study and begin logging everything into a
separate notebook. You set up a connection between the computer and the realm-
watcher before devoting yourself to inputting the logistical directions around
the town. Connecting the watcher wirelessly to the connectors you place down
allows you to get input information readings regarding the sensory trackers you
placed around.
Losing track of time, you nibble away at the remnants of the pastry, licking
the crumbs away from your fingers as you anxiously type away coordinates into
the system to log for later – faster then revisiting and planting them
individually, but taxing on the mind regardless.
Hours pass before you are content with the amount of work done before you even
dare to spare the clock a gander. Shrinking with guilt to the late hour you
stretch your limbs and gather your work uniform. Peeking your eye at the front
door, you decide it won’t be a long trip and leave the study unattended, but
closed obviously.
The floor boards beneath your feet squeak with each cautious step as you
shamble quietly down the staircase, aiming for the laundry room set on the
second floor. Toriel must’ve had a busy day to forget there was clothing left
behind in the washer. You do her the favor of throwing it into the drier so as
to have your clothes in the wash. Of course, it likely won’t take long as you
choose it would be wise to prepare some form of dinner. Turning both the
machines on, you shut the door as the low resonating machines go about their
business.
Creeping through the house at night made you feel like a form of infiltrating
stalker. Your mind drove that thought out the door as you found a handmade meal
sitting lovingly in the fridge upon opening. Above it sat a little note.
‘Dear Rea – If you are reading this then you found the dinner! We hope you had
a lovely day at work – and Alphys was thankful for the Spider Cider Undyne
bought, so be sure to patch that over to Muffet for us, dear. There is a
Science convention taking place in the center of town tomorrow at noon. We
weren’t aware of your schedule and interests but extend an invitation for you
to join us nonetheless. Please leave a message on the fridge regarding your
schedule and if you would be able to join us. Thank you and have a good night!
– Toriel’
You sigh with contentment as you untop the meal – breaded chicken, green beans
and some bread with cheese. On the opposite side of the note where you decided
to write the reply are detailed microwave instructions for reheating the meal.
You can’t help but giggle as you rummage around the kitchen for another sticky
note after plopping the meal into the microwave to heat up.
‘Toriel – Thanks for the invitation, but I work tomorrow. You guys go have fun
– take some pictures for me if you want cuz science is cool. Yeah. Totally. I’m
working late tomorrow too but I threw my clothes in the wash and drier with the
rest. All’s I need is to wake up before I go to work to get some lunch this
time around. Don’t know the schedule yet – will let Muffet know about that
thank you. And thanks for the dinner – starved. – Rea’
Content with the reply you pin it up against the fridge in plain sight as the
microwave beeps with finished approval. Grasping the plate between your fingers
you are pleased to feel its warming touch against the tips of skin. Setting
down at the table, you finally take a moment to survey your arm as you pop a
steaming nugget into your mouth. A few of the nerve points were still
bristling, the veins were more prominent, and irritation blemishes began
popping up around the dip of your shoulder. Feeling over the lumps, they are
slightly painful to the touch. You absently stab a few green beans against your
fork before chewing them heartily. Checking over your opposing arm in
comparison, its difficult to tell the differentiations because of old burn
marks flaked across your body. Still, the differences are distinct – less
prominent veins and certainly a decrease in the invasive and painful blemishes.
A little make-up over the veins would do plenty as your shoulders are decently
concealed by the work attire.
The hallway opposite the kitchen begins to creak as your attention spikes and
you grab the little butter knife you’d picked out to, in fact, butter the
beans. You ready it in your twitchy arm before crouching against wall.
Recalling the direction of the sound, it was silent and long again as another
creak echoed throughout the hall. It was coming from the direction of Undyne
and Alphys’ housing – though it was also the direction of the window to the
bathroom the more you wracked your brain around the house layout. Peeking
around the corner, it’s nay impossible to see anything in the darkness
swallowing the house – the curtains are drawn and conceal the majority of the
house in shade. A faint figure is leaned against the wall in the hallway
leading to Undynes. Their stature doesn’t look familiar as you ready the dull
knife – you’d hate to give more hateful news regarding the monsters and the
stunt you pulled before with the gang was already very hounding on you and
them.
There is a faint ringtone before the phones light is produced from a pocket of
sorts and immediately illuminates the ivory bones of Sans. Your eyes widen as
you see the bones gain an almost ethereal glow to them as his bones clack away
at the screen, likely in response. Even his bones weren’t easily perceivable in
the night it seems, and he is wearing a grey tank-top. Relinquishing the knife
and relaxing against the wall, Sans takes another quiet step through the house,
also trying to not wake the masses with the wrong movement. You sigh and
retreat the knife back into calmness before your arm gives a violent jerk to
the tensing and relaxation of your muscles. The jerking motion causes you to
hiss in pain as the knife clanks against the wall and floor. Sans’ phone
resonates with the closing sound as the hall creaks with another step.
You don’t completely understand why you cling to the wall and shrink in size,
fidgeting around the little wall into the kitchen as the footsteps draw near.
Of everyone in the house, you primarily want to avoid Sans and Undyne on
account of the untimely visit, but what will it matter? It’s impossible to
evade them forever – you livetogether. Regardless, you sneak around the corner
while remaining careful of the creaking floor and tiles. You eventually are
halfway through the kitchen before being able to eye the staircase. It’s unwise
to try and sneak around, but it’s just as stupid to dash for it. Cutting a rift
into your room would just verify who was sneaking around if he hadn’t actually
caught on yet.
“if ya think yer bein’ sneaky, you shoulda moved the plate.” Sans calls out
with a sigh. You twinge with regret to the obvious evidence before poking your
head out. He has that sly smile stretched across his skull as he catches sight
of your hair glistening against the moon. Of course the moonlight is poking
through exactly where you produce your head. His eye sockets grow wide, pupils
small as you finally extricate yourself shamefully from the kitchen. He seems
speechless momentarily as you pout and lean your head against the ridge.
“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” You grumble impatiently, trying to keep
your head low to prevent the sight of your blush.
“likewise.” He murmurs back with a slight laugh. You pout to his cocky attitude
and turn your head away impatiently.
“Well last I checked you didn’t live over there.”
“last I checked you didn’t need to know my reasons for anything.” He replies as
your shoulders tense. When did you resort to bickering?
“Kinda matters when I think you’re some creep who snuck into the house.”
“glad we’re on the same page.” He is snickering at this point as you grumble in
agitation, snaking your body around the table and picking up the mostly
finished plate. You throw the last of the breaded chicken into your mouth and
chew angrily as you clean and deposit your plate to dry on the border of the
sink. You can still feel Sans’ presence at the corner of the room, watching
from afar.
“Don’t you need to go to sleep?” You murmur as you busy yourself with drying
and cleaning the provided plate and utensils.
“could say the same for you – work and all.” You don’t allow him to sneak a
snicker in as you spin about while he reads the reply note attached to the
fridge and shove your finger directly into his sternum and glaring into his
eye. It’s almost impossible to avoid the blush that is pulsating heat over your
entire face.
“Listen to me. We don’t talk about what happened. We don’t have any more little
excursions over there when I am working. We do not discuss anything regarding
Muffets or I will find a way to rain hell down upon your life – are we clear?”
You warn, your eye spiraling uncontrollably. His smug smile doesn’t abandon his
face as he calmly stares back into your eyes; scanning your face and reading
your expression.
“eh. maybe. kid loves visitin’ Muffets on their way back from school, and
usually someones givin’ ‘im a ride-“ He begins to explain and exaggerate as you
push your finger into his sternum that presses him back against the fridge
door.
“Are we clear?” You demand, your arm trembling. He seems to catch the moment
your attention is diverted as he scans your arm in the moment.
“sure. jus’ explain why your arm looks like that suddenly and we’ll shut out
traps.” He shrugs calmly as you snag your sleeve and conceal your arm hastily
and backing away to be shrouded in more of the kitchens darkness.
“It’s nothing. Just an accident. It’ll heal up in no time. Happy?” You grumble
before storming back off to the stairs. You trudge up without concentration to
the sleeping residents around you and rummage through the dry laundry to snatch
your fresh uniform from the finished pile. You throw it over your shoulder and
glare sleepily at the clothing.
You can’t resist folding the rest of the laundry into a bin for Toriel to help
take your mind off of everything. You cautiously work your way upstairs now
after you leave the bin atop the drier and hang your uniform up in the
bathroom. You glare at the clock that now reads into the early morning as you
crash into the top of the covers, somehow squirm beneath the covers and bury
your face into the pillow as you drown in your sleep.
===============================================================================
 
You bolt awake as the resonating phone alarm finally catches your tired ear.
You snatch your phone and pale as the time reads just minutes before your next
shift. You throw yourself from your bed and stumble into the bathroom, fixing
your hair and ensuring you keep your human appearance. You wiggle into your
uniform, blindly making sure you have some form of underwear and socks on while
sneaking your phone into the pocket before finally slipping the heels on as you
rip a tear into the void. Before you take the first step, you recall your need
to eat lunch and feel your stomach churn desperately. Glaring at the clock you
could cry as you simply don’thave time to make anything in time.
You fall backwards into the void and use a slight boost to rush to the other
end, popping out at the back entrance of Muffets. You readjust your hair and
clothes before rustling in the back, peeking into Muffets office to inform her
you arrived and quickly jumping on the front.
An hour. Two. Three hours of almost no customers and just a weary sleepy you
shambling about with orders. Muffet allows you to drink a chocolate coffee mix
that helps rejuvenate your energy, “So you can stay awake and focus, dearie!”
is what she had said. You felt a twinge of guilt for the situation she’d found
you in, but it wasn’t all bad. It helped to hold you over and helped relax your
still tensing arm. Taking a moment of slowness in the line you inspect your
shoulder to find the painful blister-like bits of skin already prickling or
deflating. You heave a relieved sigh and check over the pastry stock for
overall freshness similar to how Muffet had taught you. She instructed you to
work on friendliness, efficiency, and checking the stock. The doors bell
jingles in informing the entrance or exit of a customer. Swerving your head
around to check whether to great or goodbye the passerb-
“HELLO REA!!!”
It takes all of your concentration to not put the donuts you are rearranging in
a crumbling death grip as the group walks in, Papyrus taking the proud lead
towards the register. Toriel is clearly spotted behind, as predicted, with
Frisk and Flowey at her side. You catch Alphys’ tail hiding behind Toriels tall
form. You sigh with slight relief despite the dazzling eyes Toriel and Papyrus
are sharing as you sneak over to the register. You are about to address them
when the little bell at the register gets rung. Sans’ head pokes out from
behind the register as you need to actually restrain yourself from hopping the
counter and beating him to dust.
“My, dear, you look wonderful! The outfit suits you nicely.” Toriel comments,
giving you a warm smile that melts you back down from the tension that overcame
you. You sigh and just go with it.
“Thanks, I suppose. Didn’t you say you were going to that Science Convention or
whatever?” You ask, checking over the cheat sheet absently to remind yourself
before they ordered – if they ordered.
“OH YES! THE CONVENTION WAS QUITE INCREDIBLE – ALL OF THE HUMAN MADE
INVENTIONS!! ALPHYS AND SANS SPENT SO MUCH TIME OGLING OVER THE WHOLE THING
THAT WE COULDN’T TAKE AS MANY GROUP PHOTOS TOGETHER!! HOWEVER, AS YOU
REQUESTED, I TOOK PLENTY OF PHOTOS FOR YOU TO REVIEW ONCE YOU RETURN HOME THIS
EVENING – FOR I AM THE GREAT FRIEND PAPYRUS! NYEHEHEH!!” Papyrus hollers,
obviously catching the attention of all the customers as you shrink under his
enthusiasm. You nervously chuckle and try to gesture for him to ease off the
screaming, but you know he can’t really help it all that much.
“Ye-Yeah! They-they had a huge var-variety of science! There w-were these robot
duals and races, inside inventions o-of the modern airplanes an-and clocks! Th-
Then th-th-there was a wing regarding catalysts and chemical reactions – they
even had this one called the S-Sugar Snake where they mixed sucrose with
sulfuric acid!” Alphys’ eyes shine with joy as she reviews her own photos
through the camera in her pocket. She picked a nice daisy flower design tank-
top with thick jeans, a light denim jacket that hung low enough to conceal the
point her tail poked through the clothing. It suited her nicely as it nicely
contrasted against her yellow scales that shone in the suns rays.
“pretty disappointed they didn’t have any of the self-sustaining tornados, but
I guess humans don’t study quantum physics enough.” Sans shrugs but looks
pretty content as he reviews the photos with Alphys on the sidelines. Frisk is
happily patting their hands after settling Flowey onto the desk. Flowey stares
silently at you for a good period of time as the others survey the menu
choices.
“You look stupider than usual.” Flowey hints, his tiny beady eyes losing
interest as you conceal a fist under the counter. So easy it would be to just
‘accidentally’ push the entire pot off the desk. So easy.
“You haven’t expanded your vocabulary as usual.” You teasingly stick your
tongue out knowing the little beast isn’t capable of anything as he muffles
something beneath his leaves. “Hmm? If you wanna say something just say it.”
“Why do you go out looking like this, but have white hair and yourweird eyes
when you get home?” He grumbles, tilting his head and flowing his petals. You
pause to contemplate and run the words through your brain again – it gives you
the briefest flash back of your school days before Frisk hastily is snapping
with angry furrowed brows. They sign something far too quickly for you to catch
as Flowey hisses in discontent. “What? It’s true! She looks weird!” Flowey
shouts in retaliation as Frisk quickly scoops them up with an annoyed frown and
stuffs the majority of Flowey into their large backpack – for timeout, you
suppose. The bratty flower instantly shuts up as Frisk feebly reaches across
the counter trying to reach your hand. You meet him halfway as he speaks on the
little internal private channel.
“Are you for sale because you’re the sweetest thing in here.”
Immediately you snatch your hand away from the grinning child and warily stare
at them.
“You……You know I am over 100 years older than you, right…” You whisper past the
desk as Frisk gives a giggle and pecks his hand before blowing it your way. It
confuses you why this child is so flirtatious to begin with, but you hardly get
a chance to ask as everyone returns ready to order. They buy a few pastries,
croissants and just a few bagels. They share a helping of Spider Cider and
settle down into one of the window booths, much to your displeasure. It wasn’t
completely bad though – you got to watch everyone in a fairly neutral setting.
Papyrus had to quiet down when Muffet came out and calmly complained that if
she could hear his chatter from the office then she wasn’t okay with him
breaking the rest of the peoples ear-drums or current lack thereof. He seemed
down about it, but he kept his voice as hushed as Papyrus could manage – though
he vibrated with energy and need to shout out from your view on the counter.
Toriel gasps and rushes back over to you as she fiddles with the large bag she
carried around – your presumed it was just one of those bulky purses.
“Here Rea. I heard you needed to make lunch but we didn’t see you at the table
so I assumed you needed something for your break. I hope you don’t mind
turkey.” Toriel sighs with a grin as you fish around in the carry-on baggie she
produces. Inside rests a lovingly made turkey sandwich – fit with lettuce,
tomatoes, cheese, and a thin condiment you can’t make out. It’s touching to say
the least. You give her a wavering smile as she laughs off the appreciation and
returns to the table allowing you to do your job.
Because of the slow day you were able to witness casual conversation between
the family and Frisk, but also the others peoples reactions to the group. It
might have been biased because of the monster-friendly establishment, but if
people weren’t smiling at their antics they just paid them no mind – no glares
or gossip murmurs to spread. The group decides to hang around and chatter well
passed their meals are finished as you busy yourself with checking on the
supply again – the majority of the customers leaving or busying themselves with
work or just not paying attention to anything else.
The door jingles to alert you and turning your head about you catch a figure
walking up to the register pretty hastily. They are completely dressed in black
besides their grey hoodie that hides the symbol on their shirt enough to
intrigue you. Nonetheless, you wander over to the counter with a smile.
“Hello sir, what can I get for you today?” You ask politely, trying to read his
eyes. It doesn’t help he has on glasses and a green scarf covers his face
nearly all the way to his nose. The faint click of metal rings out as you drag
your eyes down to the base of the counter where a tiny gun remains slightly
concealed within the jackets sleeve. Looking slowly back up to their eyes, they
don’t seem to hesitate or be shaky; they are used to this by now.
“Open the register and fork over the money you monster hugging bitch.” The man
warns, the guns safety unlocked as he gestures towards the register vaguely
with the gun aimed directly at your midsection – enough to strike terror and
injury, but not to kill. You keep a cool head, scanning around the remaining
customers. Nobody seems to even notice that someone is in the line. Opening the
register gains the assailant’s attention long enough for you to take the window
of opportunity. You drive your free arm which happens to be the twitchy one
directly in his elbow which disconnects the nerve without causing harm and
causes his arm to numb and drop the gun with a faint clatter onto the counter.
Before the man can even utter or gasp is surprise, you grab his collar and
scarf and hoist teleport him to behind the counter where you reach hastily
beneath his gaping and ready to scream jaw and pinch another nerve that sends
him into sleep as he slouches against your ankle. You fumble to grab the gun
and store it underneath the register cabinet and out of sight. Despite the half
flung body that was very obvious being pulled behind the counter, nobody seemed
to pay attention.
Taking a moment, you duck down and check the man for any other weaponry or
potential current threats. Even identification for when the police came, which
you planned to do the moment you could get Muffets attention.
“anybody home?” You hear that familiar baritone voice as you pop up with
surprise to find Sans leisurely leaning against the counter. “oh there you
are.” You try to keep a straight face with a happy smile as you wring your
wrists impatiently – you needed to step away to get Muffet.
“How can I help you sir?” You continue to punctuate with agitation. He leans
against the counter, eying you directly.
“don’t you think paralyzing your customers will get you fired?” Sans snickers,
peeking over the counter to look at the loose hood. You step by to try and
shield the body from view.
“I’d rather be fired then point-blank shot Sans.” You whisper with a grin,
Sans’ falling immediately as his eyes take on a darker purpose with their
stare. “Look. Watch the desk while I get Muffet, ‘lright?” You warn quickly,
casting a wary eye to the door as he gives a faint nod of the head before you
dash off behind the door. You give a polite knock at Muffets door as she is
quick to reply by opening it.
“Yes dearie? What seems to be the iss-“ “Okay, um, this guy’s unconscious
behind the counter because he tried to rob the store but nobody saw him get
knocked out so I wanted to let you know we need to call the police.” You
interrupt her with a thumbs up before proceeding back to the front. She seems
to catch everything as she is quick to rush the landline in her office and you
can hear the clacking of the dial pad resounding through the open door. You
return to the front where Sans remained to cover the register. Papyrus was
making an even louder ruckus then before which was driving the need for privacy
customers out of the shop with a little trickle – whether it was on purpose or
not didn’t matter considering their safety came first.
Checking over the man, you investigate the symbol you’d eyed behind his jacket.
It was a badge with the same design as the Black Hearts. Your chest churned
with hatred as the bell to the door jingled once more in alarm. You would turn
the customer away if they weren’t multiple men similarly dressed like the
unconscious one behind the register. They didn’t hesitate to produce guns which
instantly caught the attention of the customers as a warning shot was fired off
into the ceiling. One woman screamed and instantly ducked beneath the table
with her laptop, fiddling for her phone, while the majority of the other
customers were either too terrified to move or just were being directly held at
gunpoint. Toriel kept Frisk and Flowey in cover behind her, Alphys ducking
beneath the seat and Papyrus trying to ease the patrons.
“Nobody fucking moves-“ One man shouts but you don’t give him the chance –
instantly vaulting over the counter and over Sans before face stomping directly
into the first to enter. Concern for your identity is the least of your worries
as you round house another man into the wall, disabling an adjacent attacker
with their gun safety unlocked before he attempts to trip you up. Suddenly he
is enveloped in blue and thrust into the other man who’d been sprawled against
the wall moments before. Two more men that watched the entrance rushed inside,
one wielding a knife. You dodge away from a vital swing to your torso and
nearly stumble into Sans and the counter as he side-steps out of the way. The
two that had enter don’t startle by the equal fighting presence and lunge
forward. You follow suit until two giant red gloves encase both of their heads
before bashing their skulls together and them crumpling to the ground. You were
surprised Papyrus could even hurt a fly, let alone a human – but the help was
appreciated. In a flash dull blue bones encased each of the grumbling or
unconscious bodies and locking them within their new confines. You make a dash
to the front, ripping off the ‘Open’ sign and peering around the corner. The
all too noticeable trademark car is evident and nobody else seems to be
present. Doing another quick scan, you return inside as Papyrus is helping
frightened customers to their feet.
“I’m terribly sorry any of you were mixed into this. Please head home or to the
police station regarding the incident – it is safe outside.” You ensure as the
last of the customers make a dash to the door. You sigh and undo the ponytail
from your hair – so much for your second day of work.
“nice job paps.” Sans compliments his brother with a hearty pat to his spine;
Papyrus takes it in stride, posing heroically.
“INDEED!! YOU DID EXCELLENT CONSIDERING YOUR LAZY TRACK-RECORD AS WELL!”
Papyrus returns the pat as Sans cannot hold his balance from the brotherly
shove. Doesn’t keep him from laughing it off. “I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM ALWAYS
ONE TO AID MONSTER AND MAN!!” Papyrus gallantly poses towards the sun, you
suppose, as he simply points to a window.
“’course bro. you ain’t no im-paps-ter.” Sans replies with a shrug, Papyrus’
eyes bulging comically out of their sockets as he cranes his neck dangerously
around to glare at his brother.
“SANS YOU ARE RUINING MY MOMENT!!”
“y’think I did that on pap-ose? that’s pap-posterous.” Sans’ grin grows as you
can’t hold back a snicker at the last pun. Papyrus throws his arms into the air
with a shout before burying his muffled grumblings into his giant gloves. A
hint of courage swells in your dulled humor.
“Don’t be upset, Papyrus. I’ll get you a pap-stry on the house.” You giggle
behind your hand to hide your widening grin. Sans gives a lazy thumbs up as he
chuckles into the collar of his hoodie while Papyrus gives you a betrayed
glare.
“ENOUGH TOM-FOOLERY!!” Papyrus demands.
“didn’t know tom’s last name was foolery. good things to know.”
“Since when was Tom a jester?”
You and Sans both blunder into a fit of laughter as Papyrus tosses his scarf
behind him and aggressively storms out of the store, standing by the window and
impatiently tapping his foot against the concrete. He continues to shout
something past the glass, but it is plenty more muffled then before – certainly
not taking away from the loud aspect.
===============================================================================
 
The police take their sweet time arriving to the scene which gives everyone a
chance to calm down, collect the attackers into one area and calm down anyone –
specifically Alphys. Although once Alphys realizes the danger has been
dispersed, her eyes swell with amazement.
“Th-That was amazing! Y-Y-You f-flew over the counter j-just like Mew Mew from
episode nineteen d-during the season three climax wh-where her bestie was
kidnapped during the maid café hours so she took immediate pursuit because
their friendship is a form of fu-“ Alphys begins to tangent wildly as you try
to settle her down. The group hangs around to help testify the attack with you
regarding the humans. Frisk gives you a thumbs up for your courage followed by
an eyebrow waggle; you don’t fully understand why but you pray the child isn’t
flirting with you again.
The police arrive, guns at the ready, and the group seems to obey all of their
demands – likely run-ins with the biased force around here. Luckily, no
monsters are arrested and watches are set up around monster-run/owned stores.
Unfortunately though the incident puts a damper on Muffets business so you are
sent home for the remainder of the day. Of course, Frisk clings to the chance
of getting to talk to you more – which includes the fact that the family
decided it was healthy to walk around the convention so they were all walking
home.
You were now simply shambling down the street trying to hide your vibrantly
blushing face behind your thick brown hair as you try to imagine yourself in
something far less revealing. Most of the group has processed ahead which puts
you at minor ease. Of course, about 3 blocks towards the street and plenty of
whistles later, you are keeping yourself hidden beside Papyrus desperately. At
the very least he doesn’t comment on the outfit – simply your behavior.
“ARE YOU FEELING BETTER?” Papyrus’ skull tilts to the side, his brow bones
knotting in the slightest concern.
“I’ll be better when I get home, lock myself in that room and never have eyes
on me again…” You whimper while keeping your profile low. Papyrus gingerly
holds your wrist and pulls you to the side of the sidewalk, letting the others
advance without you both.
“Rea – you cannot run away from these things. It is scary, indeed, but the
Great Papyrus, Undyne, and everyone will surely be there to support you – magic
or not. Secluding yourself away from your issues accomplishes nothing.” Papyrus
speaks evenly, stunning you into silence with his calmed voice. He pats your
head attentively as you can’t help but bashfully pout the other direction; it
felt like you were being treated as a child. The sentiment was honestly sweet
though, fluttering a tiny flame in your heart – he was worried about such
things while you were tense over how people viewed you. You nudge your elbow
into his shirt and pressing against his ribcage.
“Thanks Papyrus. I’m not scared – It’s just a bit too new. But, for you, I’ll
make an effort.” You reply with an earnest grin while sparkles begin to dance
in Papyrus’ sockets before he triumphantly points to the sky.
“BUT OF COURSE – EFFORT IS THE FIRST STEP IN LIFE OF ADVANCEMENT!!” Papyrus
cries out joyously before taking a single step and pressing a button. Following
the pole the button is attached to, you are both waiting on the opposing side
of a cross walk as the group waits on the other side. Papyrus seems proud of
that single step as you can’t hide a dumb smile.
A horn is honked a few quick times from the street and before you can play it
off as misconduct in traffic a holler of whistles roar out. Self-consciously
you snag and try to drag down the back of your uniforms skirt which only
presses your breasts mound higher into the specifically fit fabric. Your
knuckles crack and threaten to tear the thin piece as Papyrus simply stands
there unknowing.
Effort…..huh…
You release your skirt and bring your leg up and to your front, earning another
nasty honk as Papyrus watches curiously. Cars begin to stop as the button
finally processes through the stop-light system and halts traffic for the
crossing. You vigorously yank off both of your heels, happy and relieved your
blisters have air to breathe. You throw a confident grin and glare at Papyrus
and get to your tippy toes to speak better to him while pointing to the
opposing side of the crosswalk and your friends. The house isn’t far off.
“Race you home. Winner gets to help with dinner.” You declare. Papyrus’ sockets
grow wide and then firm, but his boney smile is filled with certainty.
“VERY WELL! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL ACCEPT THIS CHALLENGE!!!”
Dashing off the pavement as fast as your tired pained feet can carry you, Frisk
claps joyously and trails behind as you rush past the group – Papyrus feet
ahead with his range of reach. While it was an effort to reach home faster to
avoid even further cat-calling; you, haggard and heavy breathing while your
feet popped with hints of pain, couldn’t wipe that silly smile off your face.
===============================================================================
 
 Hours later a knock resonates off your door. Opening it wide you are slightly
startled to find Frisk and Flowey waiting patiently – Flowey less so as his
leaves are crossed in anger.
“Come on you idiot – dinners ready.” He grumbles without paying a hint of mind
in your general direction. When he finally does pry a little eye open his
leaves are thrown down in aggression. “You did it again!” He shouts angrily,
“You and your weird disguise can’t just last all day, can it?!”
Reaching down you hastily flick the rude weed in the center of his face,
knocking him back and ruffling his petals. Frisk doesn’t approve of either of
your actions as you give an apologetic wave. You trudge downstairs with
bandaged feet – Toriel refused to let you damage your feet any further after
the running incident and you collapsing on the couch, breathing heavily, with
stinging feet. The blisters had become quite the issue in a short amount of
time, but you weren’t necessarily built for heels in the first place.
Regardless, walking downstairs was tender on the heel and toes.
Frisk rushes in and into the dining room where you slug your own way to a chair
just for you. It feels awkward because of the seating arrangement you find
yourself in. Asgore and Toriel are each on the ends of the table to watch over
anything that happens. Frisk is settle besides Toriel with Flowey, Papyrus in
the center because he is the best for passing items around (and his need to be
in the middle of friends) while you are placed next to Asgore. On the opposing
side, Undyne is besides Asgore and across from you, Sans is directly next to
her and across from Papyrus (the best reach can reach the worst reach,
supposedly) and Alphys is on the farthest end by Toriel and across from Frisk
and Flowey. It seems to be a balanced seating system – Toriel and Asgore watch
over the table talk and antics, Alphys and Frisk are calmer in Toriels motherly
presence, and Undyne and Papyrus are loyal to Asgore, therefore, don’t cause as
much trouble likely. It hurts that you’ve screwed up their original seating
arrangement – Papyrus and Frisk tended to have this side to themselves or the
extra seat often was for whenever they had a visitor. Asgore relayed to not
worry about the seating – Papyrus seemed calm enough with you beside him and
then Asgore could keep a watchful eye over you.
You shrunk in size as you wondered how long the furry beast would consider you
a threat while the food was lovingly passed around. Mindless chatter filled the
silence you were used to, fresh home-cooked stuffing danced over your taste
buds and warmed your chest with joy as you heartily scooped another spoon in
your mouth with delight.
“Is it good?”
You snapped to attention with the spoon stuck out of your mouth to see Toriel
waiting patiently for your reply; her eyes were squinting with knowing
happiness as you hastily chewed and swallowed. To not interrupt or bring
attention to yourself, you showed her a faint thumbs up in answer as she
happily went on her merry way back to her seat to enjoy the dinner.
A snickering from across the way drags your attention to Undyne who grinning a
tad too wide.
“Don’t you have any shame?” She snickers.
“Excuse me?”
“Can’t even keep a woman’s modesty?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” You warn with confusion. Undyne snickers
a little, Alphys turning slightly red on the sidelines and sweaty as Undyne
passes you her phone – showing a picture. It’s a well-timed minimally blurred
image of you from Alphys’ position at the booth snapping pictures. Sans’ skull
is slightly beneath you after you vaulted over his luckily short stature and
there is even a comical expression of panic on one of the attackers on the far
left. Contemplating Undynes words, you look closer only to have a tint of blush
dash across your cheeks; your skirt was perfectly flared to reveal your
panties. It was fine, however, because Sans’ skull blocked it from…….the
photo…….
Undyne’s giggling fit grows more in abundance and strength as the slow
realization dawns over your face. Off the immediate memory of disrobing the
minute you had privacy, you grumbled aggressively about the inappropriate
undies you’d thrown on – thin and tight, blacker then the previous night.
Undyne pries her phone back from your tense grip while chuckling under her
breath as you bring a menacing glare towards Sans. Atleast the bastard is
sweating as he silently chews on some broccoli. You attempt to stand and dual
him right there and then, Asgore quickly noting your movements and resting a
heavy hand on your shoulder. Your glare pierces his eyes which have turned hard
like stone.
“I entrust you know better than to pick fights at the dinner table.” Asgore
cautiously whispers, his eyes wandering off to meet with Toriels who is also
aware of your attempted actions. You plop back down into your chair and hold
your head in your hands, groaning with agitation. “Undyne, you would do well to
not tease her so. “
“It ain’t teasing – it was an awesome action photo!!” Undyne can’t even
properly finish the sentence without giggling after saying ‘action’. Asgore
raises a suspicious brow at her as Alphys squirms guiltily in her seat. You
grumbled and set aside that beating for later – if anything, you had to thank
Alphys. You were completely unaware of that happening which then made it
optional to beat the bones out of Sans.
Your phone played a familiar jingle as Papyrus and Sans began their usual
antics. Rechecking that it was Mir calling through, you flip it open with
relief that she is finally getting back to you regarding those previous texts.
You cup the phone close to your left cheek and block your other ear to better
hear.
“Mir, there better be a damned good reason you couldn’t just text me like usual
– I am kinda in the middle of…stuff.” You admit, not wanting to mention the
dinner with the family. Mirage was an orphan from the get-go, but she insisted
that the mages were enough family for her. It didn’t stop a pang of pain to
cross her face at any mention of parents or siblings though; a family dinner
chatter would surely set her off.
“Heeeh-heh……I must apologize..for having to call in your…….’free-
time’?........But I require a report.”
Your face pales as you jump to your feet, flinching away from the table like it
was a roaring flame. Asgore tries to catch you out of kindness, but the instant
he reads your face his own writhes in confusion and pain. No words are
exchanged as you leave the laughter behind and rush to the front door, out, and
slamming it. You are certain Baysoph can hear the nervous shaking of your bones
across the little device.
“I-um, there i-isn’t much to report sir.” You reply, trying to find a way
around this without resorting to lying. Of course, Baysoph knew when you were
hiding something – always. The more you could dance around Frisks existence the
better.
“…Report regardless, dear.”
“Fine. I encountered Asgore, their king, and have settled myself among the
monster ranks as a guard. I hope to learn more about the diversity and the
reasons for hatred in general towards monsters – they seem like kind and gentle
folk who want nothing more then smiles on others. Hard to believe the guys went
through wars… Regardless, I have taken up residence in the kings abode with
most of his trusted ‘cabinet’ in a sense. The humans here are crueler then I
recall for this time-period and have been blatantly targeting monsters and
monster owned establishments. I will need time to further assess the
situation…” You mumble, putting slight distance between the house and yourself
as you come to rest and squat on the sidewalk – anxiety writhing through your
nerves. There is a long pause, faint scratches of aggressive writing and sigh.
“……I trust….that you plan to…..he-heh-heh explain that other mages presence.”
Your world crumbles around you as you shiver to the newfound cold.
“….I can explain.” You whisper, trying to still yourself.
“Excellent. Return for now…….we will decide your actions later.” Baysoph
replies as tears bite at your eyes.
“Sir, permission to remain here! I will tell you everything you need to know, I
swear! Please, just-“
“Oh-hooo. It hee-heeh- it isn’t often you beg for something…” He murmurs in
delight as you ball your shirt into your fist clutching at your center. You
can’t even refute his claims – you are choking up over the phone.
“….Please. H-Hear me out before you rush to ideas. And Zebb cannot know.” You
plead.
“He will know sooner…….or later.” Baysoph warns.
“The later the better.” You reply.
“………….Very well. He-heeh-heh-hrm- but you are to report back now.”
“Yes sir. Thank you sir-“ “And whatever consequences this brings…………its on your
head.”
Your core trembles with fear – it was rare that death threats in the mage
kingdom were made, and it was unheard of now. By implying death on another is
to cease their bloodline of magic – yours wasn’t just something manually
transferrable and optional mages these days were a needle in space.
“…Yes sir.”
The line drops dead and you let your arm dangle at its side as you gaze up into
the faint starry sky. You glance down towards your phone and the SAVE star
strapped as an accessory. Gulping heavily to the point of no return you flick
the star as an overwhelming hope rushes over you.
“Save this moment…” You mutter to yourself, a faint beeping noise resonating in
the air, and the moment dying along with the warmth. You steel your feet and
trudge back inside, wiping the tear stains out of your eyes.
Laughter washes over you as you near the dining table while your face remains
rugged and cold. You refuse to keep the disguise up – it’s pointless. Asgore
spies you and a grin breaks across his beard as he gestures you back towards
your chair. Your mouth tightens and dries as you try to find a way to explain –
to ease the pain. He stands to meet your silence and shambles over to your
side.
“What has happened? Why do you make this face?” He asks quietly, not wanting to
disturb the others.
“……They know.” You mutter as his fur begins to pale. “It’s my fault. I’m being
summoned back. I need to tell him everything, Asgore, o-or else he’ll-“ Tears
prickle in your eyes again as the frustration cracks the knuckles that form
fists. Asgore pulls you closer and into a giant fuzzy hug, smothering you in
fabric and fur as your tears dry against his shirt.
“…I believe there aren’t words that can help for this situation. Just…be brave
and…have hope.” He whispers, leaning back to meet your eyes. His trust and
family is in yourhands – it makes you want to vomit with anxiety. Asgore turns
to the rest of the table who has shushed to his overbearing presence.
“The mages are aware of Frisk.” He announces, the table tensing as you stand
there slightly dumbfound. “I trust Rea to return to her people and try to amend
things so we may keep this peace. Regardless, we must keep watch over him at
every moment.” Asgore pats Frisks head before the child plops his little feet
onto the ground and rushes into your mid-section seeking an embrace. You pull
your arms around the child as they whisper through their soul.
“Come home soon.” Frisk pleads with puppy eyes shrouded by their bangs. You
wipe the bangs away and pats their head, kissing the crest of their forehead.
“I’ll try buddy. I…I can’t promise I’ll make it back, but I promise I will do
whatever I can to make sure you stay here.” You reply, the child snuggling
closer. You relinquish them before pestering them back to Asgores side, Toriel
joining from the sidelines. Everyone seems to stand in a bidding of farewell as
you offer a sad smile before ripping open a tear.
“not even a goodbye?” Sans asks from the silence.
“A goodbye indicates that I am leaving for a long time. If I said goodbye, it
would make it true – which is impossible because I have to pummel you for that
earlier incident.” You hiss while already eager to forget it. You catch Undyne
snickering in the back. You glance back to meet all of their eager gazes.
“Besides, I never even said hi to you guys when I first showed up – I just
kinda jumped on into this……family.” The word welled a tender spot in your
heart. Tears dared to fall down your cheek.
“…So….Hi.” You mutter with a wave and vanish into the Void.
You are a silent whimper in the vastness; your gravity defying tears littering
its endless space.  
Chapter End Notes
     Hey. Hi. Leave your totally angry and/or unsatisfied comments below
     =) I appreciate it.
      
     Check_out_the_Official_Tumblr_Page
***** Time for Company *****
Chapter Summary
     Rea reaches the edge of a anxiety attack.
Chapter Notes
     Wow. I got this shit done in 2 days.
     Holy crow.
     I wanna commit seppuku fam.
     Sorry for the delay on chapters guys!! I got super sick and things
     with the collab are momentarily slow!
     I'm hoping atleast two chapters per month if not more but I can't
     promise anything considering work will be starting back up!!
     Thank you for all your support and I hope you enjoy the read~
      
      
     In the end notes is a link to my friends start at trying to sell
     plushies. Any recognition or support you guys can give her would be
     just phenomenal!! Jump to the end notes if at all interested!!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Forcing your eyes to dry as your destination comes into view isn’t simple. The
overwhelming anxiety in this simple report could easily give you a heart-
attack. If you weren’t able to convince Baysoph……they would, essentially,
abduct Frisk away from his universe. Baysoph simply couldn’t comprehend how
vital the family was to Frisk’s mental and emotional well-being with all his
age and wisdom. Then again, there had never been something like this. You had
never been through something like this, and only you would; it was your job,
basically.
Touching down on the formal platform as you shove your forearm into your eyes,
a harrowing thought crosses your mind.
If this Frisk is a mage……if…if I move to an alternative universe where which
Frisk and monsters exist, will it be the same? No, regardless of monsters,
would Frisk still be a mage? Would moving about and making this discovery not
puteveryFrisk in danger?!
The image of Frisk being pulled from Toriels sobbing embrace nearly sends you
off into a sob. Forcing it down with a hard sniffle does the key as you implore
your mind to stop thinking. It would get you nowhere to consider the
possibilities this instant.
Ascending the stairs towards the crumbling marble pillars, you walk into the
engraved arches. The tingling sensation of strong magic floods your soul with
quelled fear.
It is all about intent. You should be afraid.
Your head holds strong as you glare towards the library. Running your hand
along the black and white uneven stones, you suck in a heavy air. Baysophs
radiating energy is zapping out of the library doors – normally, it wasn’t
physically perceivable. You could almost taste the copper of blood in your
mouth from memories; unpleasant, of course. While Zebb had trained you, Baysoph
was the one who ‘punished’ any misdemeanors and failures. Of course, Zebb did
that only if he knew. But Baysoph always knew, so there was no escaping.
Suppressing the rising shiver you press into the library door and allow it to
swing open and wide. It was only Baysoph. You’d take it. Approaching, you kneel
in respect – most the time, it was unnecessary. Now it felt like a life or
death choice. Baysophs whited eyes pierced through the darkened library.
“Baysoph. I have returned.” You state formally.
“You should understand by now the consequences of your actions.” His voice is
thick and ready to aggress at any moment. Verbal magic, verbal assault, just
screams, anything.
“I cannot fathom a proper apology, sir. I don’t know the words to express it.”
“Start from the beginning…” You dare not return from your kneeling position but
meet his lifeless eyes. You’d never perceive this being of power to constantly
pretend to be a weak, insane, elderly pervert.
“Reality 139. I began at the Mt. Ebott for the barrier mending, but it was
already shattered. Thanks to the locals,” you hoped he didn’t ask about Jerry,
“I was able to pinpoint and converse with the still living King of Monsters –
Asgore Dreemurr. They were able to survive beneath Ebott thanks to adaption and
the waste deposited on their mountain that would soon be discarded within.
Along with the King I met the Queen and a variety of their protectors: the
Captain of the Royal Guard, their Royal Scientist, the Judge of humans, a
friendly guard and robot actor who revive monster hope within humanity, and the
royalties adopted child who freed the Underground and overtook the role of
Monster Ambassador – Frisk Kaffley.”
“Frisk fled their parents housing and wound up falling into Ebott, befriending
the monsters to the point of considering them family before their biological
care-takers and was adopted with them. Currently the Kaffleys are pressing
charges of kidnapping, but Frisk chooses the monsters freely. I did side
research regarding the Kaffleys – they have mage ancestors, but the line was
cut long ago. Where his magic streams from is uncertain.”
“After I discovered the capabilities of Frisk and informed his ‘family’, I took
it upon myself to monitor his growth and abilities. He has potential, Baysoph,
but not here. He will not thrive here and will cause nothing but destruction.
He harbors an internal hatred that can, if harnessed, parallel my own. The
issue is he cannot control it. His Usemia practically glows while his Eskaria
is miniature. It is expected; he is but a child with no understanding over the
power he yields. Children are very emotional, and the weight of Ambassador and
the political troubles regarding his actual family past the bullying of other
students? I am surprised there has yet to be a public incident.” You sigh,
standing as the pressure from Baysoph runs off your shoulders. He drags his
hand towards his chin in thought.
“There has been incidence?”
“Yes, only once. It was a school related issue. I practiced that technique
you’ve used on me in the past to dispel his aggression. I messed it up,
unfortunately, and my arm has been twitchy. Baysoph, it was pure malice. Red
and white lightning like nothing I’ve-“ You can’t fully explain the workings of
Frisks magic as Baysoph raises a hand to silence you. He mulls over it a
moment; his wheelchair creaks as it rolls down a ramp and stops beside a
bookshelf while he fiddles.
“…It had two colors?” Baysoph insists as you nod. He bites his lip, flipping
through passages and pictures. He grumbles and leans back with a hard breath.
“The kid’s possessed.”
“P-…Possessed?”
“Yeah.” Baysoph spins around to display the picture on the page. It’s a human
with a shadow figure behind him reaching towards the soul. “Possessed or
haunted individuals share the strongest trait emotion with the entity attached
to ‘em.”
You ponder if Frisk has shown any possession signs and your mind nearly blanks
with whiplash as you recall the first day you moved into the Dreemurrs housing.
The diary.
“Chara…” You whisper as the pieces fit together. Frisk had wildly scrawled into
that book of Flowey and Chara working with them in the Underground. How ‘she’
was talking to them. Chara was, from what you gathered, the first daughter of
the royal family past Asriel, their biological prince. Both were dead.
“Chara?” Baysoph asks.
“The Dreemurrs adopted daughter. Similar to Frisk, she was a human child who
fell into the Underground. She died of sickness when she was young. Frisk talks
about her in his diary.” A hard snicker worms its way out of Baysoph as he
raises an incredulous eyebrow.
“Hehe….you poked through a kids diary?” You unintentionally groaned.
“You’re hardly one to comment about that to me.”
A stilled silence occurs as you gaze at the harrowing page and picture he still
has displayed.
“…Will Fri-“ “What do you plan to do?” He cuts you off as your eyes widen.
He…….was asking yourpersonal opinion? He could make out the stupefied gaze
looking back at him, but he kept silent.
“…….Frisk needs to stay with them. Bringing him here would be counter-
productive. Zebbulon cannot know of his existence – he will corrupt him. If I
entrusted him with anybody, it would be Mirage. It doesn’t change my mind; he
stays there with-“ you nearly say monsters, but your emotions get the better of
you, “his family.”
The clock chimes out, not that it mattered. You are positive he kept the clocks
to remind him that time was always an existent thing everywhere else. You don’t
flinch or blink as you gaze into the empty eyes. His wheelchair trudges forward
on its own as he nears you. The action is quick; his hand propels up, squeezes
your chin, and drag you level to his face. Both of you are aware of your
quivering legs. He is reading the determination in your eyes. A sickly grin
worms onto his face.
“Alright girl. I will make you a deal. One you can’t refuse.”
It was literal. You inhaled through your nose as the tension rose. A snapping
string could result in you dead.
“Prove to me the child stays. We’ll go there – everyone but Zebbulon. We’ll
arrive, time wise, tomorrow. Arrange a meeting. I don’t care who else comes
aside from the royals and the child. A title doesn’t make you any less a pawn.”
He snickers sinisterly as he angles your head oddly.
“You don’t get to say shit about whether he stays or goes. It will be a vote. I
haven’t decided what will happen if we choose to let him stay, but if he comes
with us………you will pay the price long intended.” He warns as you audibly gulp.
Breeding. Death. Your fate.
“What do you say?”
“…When do we tell them.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“This is insanity.” Mir whimpers as you all approach the landing pad. You,
Baysoph, Forge, and Mirage all gather together. Baysoph wasn’t giving them much
choice in staying or going – he was the law. He’d slipped back into his weird
dying old man vibe, but you kept up the formal appearance.
“Hmm…” Ah, Forge. Always silent.
“Haahaa, shut it……it’ll be grand.” Baysoph motions for you to start – you grab
onto Mir who is hasty to nearly koala your side as she looks on with
trepidation into the between. Forge just silently holds the bars of Baysophs
wheelchair.
“No it won’t! We aren’t supposed to do this!!” Mir cries and snuggles into your
shoulder.
“Mir, calm down. I won’t let anything happen to you in there. It’s going to be
a quick visit, then we’ll bring you right back. Would I lie to you?” You ask.
She fixes a flat glare at you from your shoulder in a cute manner.
“Yes…” You stifle a giggle as Baysoph guffaws.
“Okay, would I lie to you about your own well-being?” You attempt. She pouts
and buries herself further into your arm.
“Lead the way…..deearrrieee.” Baysoph coo’s as you sigh. This was bound to be a
disaster.
Everyone floated along awkwardly. To ensure everyone stayed together you hooked
your free hand onto Baysophs wheel. On your left arm Mir clung with her eyes
tightly wound shut. Your right arm reached backwards and wound into Baysophs
wheel who looked quite pleased at the travel. Forge was a blank slate of
emotions, but he also kept his eyes closed the entire trip.
Once popping through to the other side, you found yourselves in the wooded area
you and Frisk had gotten lost in. Mir disconnected from you quickly and
grappled onto the first thing she could – a tree. She gasped with realization
and stood back, marveling at the towering nature surrounding her. Her eyes
glowed. Even Forge let a little gasp escape. Baysoph took a hearty breath of
the fresh air.
“Aaaaaaahh……when was the…..last time…..in reality?” He tries to recollect as he
gazes upwards at the sky. You were so accustomed to the open space you’d
forgotten – Mir and Forge haven’t been outside in the base in decades.
“Okay. We’ll do exploring later. Right now, everyone needs to look human.
I’m….I’m going to call them up.” You indicate towards your phone before
sneaking away behind a tree to let them accommodate. Once out of eye and ear
range, you dial the phone with trepidation. How would you even explain this?
“Hello?” You’d called the house phone because you wanted to initially see if
anybody was home in the first place. It was the weekend – there had to be
someone home. Undyne, of course, is the one to answer.
“Hey, uh, Undyne. Its Rea.” You mutter.
“Oh!! Damn, you’re back? Where you at? That was quick!” She laughs as the bark
sinks into your spine.
“Oh, uh, out. Um, is, uh, Asgore there? Or Toriel?”
“Mmm, everyone’s home. Lot more anti-monster stuff going down so all of us got
lucky days off.”
“Oh, um, g-great? I, well, it isn’t great but I really need to talk to Asgore.
Can you get him on the phone, please?” You ask politely.
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Undyne hesitated. You couldn’t get out of the formal and
polite mindset with Baysoph so close by. Every interaction counted. “Yo,
Asgore! Ya got an idiot on the phone who’s name sounds like Pea!!” She shouts
and you nearly face-palm.
“Pea? Really?” Undynes response is a snicker. A moment passes where the fur
brushes against the phone.
“Hello?”
“Well, there’s good news and awful news.” His sigh drowns through the phone.
You can imagine it now – either his head is against the wall or his free paw is
running over his face.
“Is it not supposed to be good and bad?” He pleads.
“Uh, no, it’s awful. Terrible seemed like a stretch; its only-“ You check your
clock and wince, “-damn it’s not even noon. Damn it all Bay…” You grumble.
Baysoph had insisted on speeding the time-frame to catch them the next day
after learning of your departure time.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing.” You wince. Had you called that out loud?
“Well, uh, it has been a long morning. Perhaps the good news would be better to
start this conversation.”
“Right! Well, I talked to the keeper of the HQ – the most powerful of all of
us. The fact I am calling you makes this already great considering I am not
dead. He didn’t insist on Frisk being taken to HQ.”
“Oh. That is good. I am glad you are safe……….Oh just tell me what’s wrong now.
I can’t take it later.” Asgore sighs in defeat. The poor giant just wasn’t
getting a break.
“In order to come to a final conclusion, he and the other mages are now in this
universe, want to meet you and Frisk, and will decide thenwhether or not they
will take Frisk. This also decides whether or not I will be forced into
breeding, so, uh, no pressure.” You nervously giggle.
“What?!?” He shrieks. The echo in the forest is probably loud enough for the
others to catch. You hadn’t expected him to shout, but soon after you hear the
anxious moans of defeat.
“Asgore? What is wrong?” Toriels voice resonates in the background. “Gorey??”
Woah, you wonder,is that his flipping pet name? ‘Gorey’?!
It takes plenty of self-control to not start sputtering and giggling. His paw
covers the phone as he begins to gingerly explain the incoming predicament. She
must rush off and inform the others as Undyne’s battle cry booms out of the
house. Another moment before the fur brushes the phone.
“What…what do you predict will occur?”
“Well, there are good points to this. Sorta. The mage we cannot let know about
this still doesn’t know, so even if this is successful, I am positive they
won’t tell him of the discovery. Mirage can go either way, Forge can go either
way, but Baysoph is just in it for the power. They’ll be super fussy and touchy
of him, but they won’t upright steal him. There is honor in this. Sorta. He’s
gotta stay strong; everyone does. I’m in the woods with them. I can make the
excuse if you guys want to meet anywhere specifically. Home turf and what-not.
We’re in the forest by Ebott currently making them look more…human.” You wince,
peeking back. Mirage still couldn’t get her hair set. Forge certainly couldn’t
fix his staggering size, build, and numerous scars. Baysoph wore glasses and
was probably going to pretend to be a blind old man. Creep.
“Uh, the park? Can we meet in the park? It’s more spacious-“ Asgore starts as
you instantly piece it together.
“And public. Even humans have to get punished if they try to steal the Monster
Ambassador.”
“Precisely. Are the others alright to come, and if not, loom in the shadows
incase anything goes wrong?”
“Honestly? The more the merrier. Just try and keep Undynes aggressiveness on a
down low. Baysoph has a history of dealing with people with unruly tempers.”
You wince at the memories.
“We’ll make it seem like a picnic. Just like the time we met you.” Asgore
announces.
“Except instead of one mage, theres four~” You sing with anxiety. “….I won’t
lie Asgore. I have no clue what will happen. Just…trust in me. I won’t let
Frisk go without a fight, I swear it.”
“I…believe you. When will you arrive?”
“We’ll make our way to the park soon. Someone text me when you all get there so
we don’t arrive before you. I’ll distract them, though it should be easy
considering they haven’t left the damn HQ in eons.” You huff.
“Okay. Stay safe.”
The flat-line tone is the indicator to get moving. At least the city is within
sight so you needn’t worry about popping through the void or getting lost in
the forest once more. Baysoph didn’t know about the forest incident. You didn’t
need to give him another reason to laugh at your directional stupidity.
Spinning around to the group, it was a nightmare to behold. They were all
strange.
Forge had thick tough tan skin with a multitude of scars distributed over his
entirety. His dark ginger hair spiked upwards while some bangs hung like hooks
over his ears. Blue eyes pierced you, though you knew he was as gentle as
giant. He had to be pushing 8 feet. It didn’t help his muscles got accentuated
– he’d chosen a white tank top and camo pants that ran down to his casual
sandals. He was a mess if you’d ever seen one, but any one glance at his
muscles and girls would probably melt at the beefy barbarian strolling the
sidewalks.
Baysoph had taken up a proper suiting at least – his thick grey and tinted
blonde hair hung back in a ponytail, the rest left unmanaged and mangled
beneath a grey bowler hat. He wore a white and green sweater vest with a black
button up below that cuffed at his elbows to show the wrinkled skin and
extruding veins. Made it effortless to direct his hits if he could properly
make his arm out. He wore dark brown dress-pants with suitable grey loafers.
Heavy glasses rested on his nose with his whited eyes hidden behind. There was
a noticeable minimal effort to make it seem like grey pupils rested within, but
the glasses did their job and hid it well.
Mirage was never one for a lot of clothes to begin with, but she was pushing
it. Her hair was a beige brunette shade and it nearly reached her thighs with
its length and curls. Her petite pale face sported iridescent blue eyes and a
toothy smile. Her top was little more than a crop top navy blue vest fashioned
beneath a white short sleeved cardigan, and a frilled little skirt of pale blue
and green polkadots covered her hips. For no reason she had orange suspenders
coming over and connecting to a jeweled belt holding the skirt up. The most
casual part of her outfit were the milk chocolate brown wedges and silk white
socks.
You followed suite with them and returned to a more human appearance – brown
hair you decided to let loose for once that hung over your shoulders. A simple
v-neck with music notes adorning it and loose low hanging sleeves that reached
your elbows. A leather belt held up the pale jeans you’d chosen along with the
monotone sneakers.
Mirage let excitement overwhelm her as she propelled forward into your arm to
hug and grapple.
“We look like sisters!! I’m so excited!” Mirage wiggled and giggled at your
side. A little clatter caught your eyes as Forge hoisted Baysoph over his broad
shoulder and snatched up the wheelchair. He couldn’t move it through the
forest. What little sense of realism was gone as you watched him effortlessly
begin to lug you all towards the streets.
“Okay. Real names are a no go. We don’t want any complications with the
universe, so fake names and pasts are a requirement.”
“Heeee……fair enough.” Baysoph resigns with a sigh. He’d accept these rules
because it was too long since he’d been in the mortal world.
“Mirage, your new name is Mira. You are my younger sister who dreams of
becoming a florist. You live in Michigan usually but came to visit. Our parents
don’t exist, so we fake a car accident with them.”
“Yay! Wait, is that a yay?” She asks perplexedly.
“Whatever you want to perceive it as.”
“Yayy!!”
“Forge, your name is Tacacion, but we call you Tic-Tac. You’re an underground
body builder who takes part in fighting rings. You’re our cousin who is more
resigned but came because we are trying to cure your fighting ring habit.”
Forge gives a nod of understanding.
“Baysoph, your name is Basil. You were previously a science professor and you
are our great grandfather. You’re fine to be delusional because everyone will
just think you have Alzheimer’s.” You sigh and he gives a little laugh. Hidden
behind a tree, Baysoph is settled back into his wheelchair that Mirage takes up
to push him along. You and Forge linger in front to guide the way and disperse
passer-bys with his size.
“Alright…..lets go.”
 
===============================================================================
 
 
You didn’t predict how many times you’d have to rush to catch each of them
before they lost themselves in stores or stands – hell, even the crowds somehow
managed to swallow them out of your sight when it really mattered. How could
you lose Forge?!
Mirage was completely captivated by the artistry and style of the world around
her and often wound up dragging Baysoph with her, not that he minded. Atleast
they had human money and weren’t straight grabbing items and running off with
them; you didn’t dare ask where they received the money however. Forge
attempted to walk straight into a gun store which you quickly derailed with
persistent yanking.
As you’d anticipated, Forge and Mirage had many instantaneous offers at
friendship, even light confessions of ‘at first sight’. Each deterred
conversation brought sick pleasure to Baysoph who didn’t play the blind man
very well. Often you found him slumped down and looking to others, namely
girls, for assistance. You ensured Mirage at the very least wasn’t close enough
to ever help.
Toriel had texted you a picture of them all set up in the park nearly 10
minutes ago. You texted her you were struggling to bring them to the location
due to ‘distractions’. Of course, everyone showed up. Frisk appeared to be
kicking their feet beneath the picnic table patiently with Flowey bickering
from your own assumptions. Papyrus was occupying Undyne with football tossing
from the looks of it. Toriel set up a nice little picnic blanket that Asgore
and Sans were laid out on, Asgore choosing to be face down. He’d likely screwed
the public appearances and was faster then Sans to accept the wondrous escape
of sleeping. When you asked how Asgore was holding up, Toriel replied that he’d
been upset but would pull through. She also mentioned how he wouldn’t admit how
terrified he was for you regarding the breeding issue. It warmed your heart
just a little before you had to wrench Mirage out of the pet store.
After another agonizing 10 minutes of looking for the park, Papyrus’
invigorated laugh roars out from the center as the familiar scene plays out.
You take a breath and gather everyone together in a more isolated location.
“Okay. Asgore agreed to the terms of you guys meeting them and they were all at
the park when I called. They brought extra food so we can have lunch, that
doesn’t permit you to eat the entire box of it. We are human. We are natural.
No weird groping, touching, screaming, no cursing AT all, and no terrifying the
poor guys. Asgore’s had a shit week.”
“Heeha……very….welll.” Baysoph shrugs.
“…..Okay.” Forge speaks in a hushed manner. You are surprised Mirage isn’t one
to hastily voice her agreements with your decree. Glancing around, you catch
why. She is already rushing the hill. Throwing your head into your hands, you
groan until it nearly becomes a roar and you dash across the separating
intersection.
“Tic-Tac please take the cross-walk!!!” You scream back as you chase after
Mirage.
“Kids! Lil bitty adorable lil-“ Mirage squealed with unconfined excitement.
She’d had this incredible need to interact with children. You didn’t blame her-
the outside world wasn’t the only rarity mages stumbled upon.
“Mira, wait!!” You shout out. Toriels head is already in your viewpoints as she
is looking towards the approaching noise. She vaulted high into the air,
obviously using magic to keep her afloat, before dive bombing out of sight
followed by a loud screech. You pounded up the hill to an odd sight.
Mirage had a koala grip around the entirety of Frisk which was odd because she
was bigger then him so he was completely enveloped in her. She was nuzzling his
hair with her nose and running her hands along his cheeks. Everyone besides
Toriel and Undyne were stupefied to the point of being frozen.
“Oooooooohhh LOOKIT YOU!! You lil cutie patootie! I could just eat you up!!
Oooohh CAN WE PLEASE KEEP HIM!? HE IS SO CU-“ “MIRA!!!” You shout which
startles everyone around you. She looks up happily at you with a twinkle in her
eye before bounding over with Frisk in her clutches – dazed and red with
embarrassment. She did have him just pressed into her breasts.
“Lookit! He has incredible bone structure! OOOOOHH I wanna take him home and
give him cupcakes- oh we can make a new room and get that wood polisher for his
little room and we are going to have so many stuffed animals-“ She continues to
ramble aimlessly as you manage to pry Frisk from her clutches. He gives an
appreciative look before you grab both of her shoulders and shake violently.
“What did I literally just say about weird groping?!” You shout as she laughs
happily at the jostling.
“Um, R-Rea?” Alphys’ voice cuts in and you look to the group. Frisk was kept
safe besides Papyrus’ femur and look on curiously to the giddy individual in
your grasp. Asgore has wound up sitting properly with his legs crossed on the
blanket with Sans leaned back indolently. This isn’t how you’d planned for this
to commence as you sigh and resign.
“Mira, these are the monsters. That’s Frisk. No more touching.” You plea as she
gives a rapid nod and cranes her neck to look at the group. She gasps and
begins to jump with more invigoration.
“ooooh-kay, who’s your pal?” Sans cuts through the others and Papyrus begins to
glow with as much delight as Mirage.
“Skeletons…” She whispers breathlessly, her eyes glowing with wonder.
“HELLO TINY HAIRY HUMAN!! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS! WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO TAKE
OUR MONSTER AMBAS- HOLY SPAGHETTI!!” Papyrus shouts with awe as he cranes his
head upwards.
“…Child…” It’s Forge. Asgore stands and, as you’d predicted, Forge is taller
then the burly king. You notice Forge has both hands at his side as you freeze.
“Tic-Tac, where is Baysoph?” You ask quietly, looking around for the freaky old
man. Forge points directly behind him at the beginning slope of the hill, his
eyes widening in realization. Reaching your tippy toes brings the sight of
Baysoph barreling backwards down the hill with a surprised face. You gasp in
alarm, detach from Mirage, and sprint back the way you had come. Baysoph’s
wheelchair slams before you can reach into a telephone pole which briefly
wiggles but doesn’t fall much to your relief. It doesn’t appear that he was
even witnessed.
“Basil, you alright?” You shout as you rush to his side.
“I ain’t in the grass………heheeee so yes.” He snickers with a devilish grin as
you grumble and push him back up the hill. There was a lot of chatter going on,
light screams as well.
“Dammit Mirage..” You mumble beneath your breath. Of course Forge probably had
no issues lugging Baysoph up the hill, but with you it was a different story.
Struggling to bring the snickering elder up the slope once more, you can hear
Papyrus laughing maniacally. Huffing and focusing on the endurance, you peak
the top of the hill at last.
Papyrus and Mirage are doing some strange hug and dodge dance with each other,
but it’s clearly playful. Sans and Alphys are clearly daunted by the
overbearing stature and size of Forge as they have to back up to simply see his
towering face. Forge has Frisk raised like that scene from the Lion King, and
he is just out of Asgore’s reach. Undyne is trying to hide a scowl at the
intimidating size of Forge, but you can feel the edge in her bite.  
“Hey! Put him the hell down, ya giant!!” She warns, her fists forming in a much
less playful manner. Forge ignores her. You whisk Baysoph towards the tree to
ensure he didn’t descend the hill again before coming up behind Forge. He was
too preoccupied with Frisk and was zoning out again so you took matters into
your own hands. Figuratively. Tugging on his shirt for a test of strength you
snag your leg at the base of his thigh before rapidly scaling his back like a
wall. He doesn’t flinch as you hook both your arms onto his shoulder and dangle
momentarily. He was built like stone. You grievingly sigh at all the exertion
you’d been suffering through so recently. Sans’ sputters his laughter to seeing
you actually climbing the towering beast providing him shade. Hooking your arm
around his neck, you manage to drag yourself back up the rest of him. Even
Frisk is giggling while held up to the sun like a sacrifice. Your legs hang
around his shoulders in similar fashion to that of a child on their fathers
shoulders, before you lay yourself over his head. It catches his attention, as
usual.
“Tic-Tac, what’d I say about touching? Please put him down.” You insist,
motioning to Frisk. He blushes with minor embarrassment before nodding very
rigidly and gingerly placing the child back down besides Asgore. Frisk looks up
at giant and you wave before Forge awkwardly fiddles in his pockets, produce a
pixie stick, and hands it to Frisk. Frisk eyes Asgore for permission as he
gives a nervous nod. Frisks glowing smile cracks a little smile along Forge’s
face as Frisk takes the sugar treat and dashes off to show Toriel who is trying
to understand Mirage and Papyrus’ odd game.
Forge grabs your legs abruptly, rushing you past his head and dangling towards
the ground as he grasps your angles. Sans can’t help the quaking laughter that
roars out of him as he watches the behemoth hold you like a ragdoll and you
just casually cross your arms.
“……..Why climb?”
“You weren’t listening to anybody. Focus, Forge.” You implore with a pat to his
outer thigh. He gives another blush and nod before throwing you into the air
where you spin upwards like a light switch and return to earth to be caught in
a princess style. He always had a strong flair. Setting you down, you
straighten the loosened hairs as you glare at the giggling Sans. Alphys looks
terrified of the towering beast and sticks close to Undynes side who is also
starting to crack a comedic smile.
“Uh, everyone, this is Tic-Tac. He makes the weapons and-“ “his name is friggin
tic-tac?!? PPFFF-“ Aaannndd there goes Sans again. You glare again as he
steadies himself with the picnic table. “-and capsules.” You finalize.
“O-O-O-h-oh u-u-uh-uh h-hi-hi….” Alphys mutters as she slowly sneaks behind
Undyne for protection she doesn’t require. Asgore extends a hand towards him.
“Hello. I am Asgore, King of the Underground. I vaguely recall giant mages, but
I am surprised they have thrived til this point. Your numbers dwindled back
during the war from my recollection.” Asgore adds, Forge accepting his hand and
shaking slowly.
“……..War….is tough…….Sorry for your loss.” His sentences are short, quiet, but
true. You respect Tic-Tac a lot for everything he does, talkative or not. You
get enough of that with Mirage. Speaking of, Sans doesn’t seem worried about
Papyrus in the slightest considering Forge has his undivided attention. You
assume he trusts her with him, which was perfectly sensible. He could sense
souls, and Mirage certainly didn’t have a count like your own. Undyne wouldn’t
stop staring and sneering.
“Did you need anything or are you just going to continue gawking?”
“eh-heh. probably the ladder.” Sans quips. You could bash your head into the
ground with infuriation.
“Sans, please.” You beg, unable to handle anything going about the moment.
“I’m sorry – are my puns too tall an order for you? I’ll summar-size it if I
must. you bring me tall people, I make small jokes.” He wiggles his brow bones
with enjoyment as you bury your face into Forges top.
“I hate you so much right now.” You muffle into his abs. There is suddenly a
whiz of magic coursing through the air from in front and behind. Spinning
about, Forge has summoned out a two-handed battle hammer and keeps you
protected close to him. Glancing upwards, his piercing eyes are focused onto
Sans who is now also getting cover from Undyne who materialized a spear. You
can feel his bone crackling energy leaking from behind Undyne as Alphys
scurries towards Toriel.
“Woah, Forge, Forge! Matter of speech! Don’t hate!! Chill! We are doing the
human thing, remember? Humans don’t have giant bloody hammers!” You grapple his
neck to regain his attention. Forge was far too protective for his own good.
He’d cared for you since you were small, and was the nicest adult you’d had the
pleasure of interacting with. He was short-spoken, but it didn’t change his
slow-mindedness. He paused, pressed a button on the hammer, and it split into
dual hammers.
“Cool trick. How ‘bout I show you one too?” Undyne hissed.
“Forge! That’s not what I meant!! No weapons! Please put them away…” You sigh
with defeat. There hadn’t been much talking and already it was going awry.
“Heeheheeeeheeh…” The disturbing breathing laughter finally pulls Forge free
from his defensive state and take in the existence of Baysoph. He looked
haggard, but intrigued. Undyne froze up before her spear vanished and she
scratch her forehead.
“Hey, uh, old man, you lost?” Undyne offers as Baysoph breathes the fresh air
heavily.
“No wonder…….heheeh you’re the captain…….You’re temper is short and
volatile.What a shame……..thought the king was wiser with……vital decisions.…”
Baysoph whispers with a devilish grin. Undynes eye twitched with anger and you
propelled forward, blocking his vision of her.
“Hey. This isn’t about them. We’re here to vote. Let’s please just get this
over with.” You plead with a confident smile. It’s a total front, honestly.
Baysoph didn’t handle disobeyers nicely, and even less so those who went
against his words. Her giving into anger was a death ticket.
“this dude with you? he’s off his rocker. better go find it.” Sans snickers and
you could honestly punch him directly in the socket.
“Forge……picnic blanket, please.” Baysoph motions for Forge to move away. He
obeys and there is tension once more.
Asgore is left there standing rigid at the elder.
“Ah, your…….majeessttyyy.” Baysoph’s wheels move forward without a guide to
push. Undyne keeps trying to push you out of the way as Asgore gives a calming
motion from behind. Baysoph gave a bow in his chair, his teeth tight in a grin.
“This pleasure…….is simply shattering…….hehe- the world around me.” He extends
a hand. Asgore doesn’t take it. He knows better. At the very least Asgore knew
this man wasn’t to be trifled with or trusted. Sans must not have a clear view
towards his soul because Baysoph would give him a figurative heart attack.
Asgore was paling to the point of one. An awkward moment later he retracts his
extended limb.
“Wise king………you’ll thank me when…….this is over. I’ll be doing you a favor,
sir.”
“What favor might that be, sir?” There is a bite to his words and addressing.
Baysoph lives for it.
“Either……you keep the child…….or you finally get rid of this pesky girl.” His
grit smile and eyes dart to you standing your ground.
“Losing Rea would be a travesty. She has been nothing but helpful.” Asgore
speaks up, spitting your name in correction. It sparks a thump out of your
chest and heart.
“Travesty would be her not being used for a better purpose. She will not simply
rot here without reason.” His voice is sharp, his words the point. You can tell
everyone goes cold to his depreciating words. It was a common occurrence you’d
grown numb to. Undyne leans into your head.
“The fuck is up with this guy? He makes it sound-“ “Like you are property…..eh,
Ms. Explosive?” He finishes her sentence with a murderous glint to his paled
eyes, finally removing the glasses to reveal the white orbs of nothingness.
“It’s simple, fish. She is. I tell her to jump…” He inches forward, closer to
Asgore. If he wasn’t in a wheelchair you’re certain his position and stance
would be threatening. “She’ll fly til we cut off her wings. It’s how you learn
obedience.”
“I’d have to disagree with that. I believe trust is a major key in those and
she simply wanted to see how high she could ‘jump’. Freedom of perception.”
Asgore growls.
“…….I’d like to see the child.” Baysoph whispers, looking to you. It’s an
order. You shiver with understanding.
“Very-“ “I got it. I got it.” Undyne quickly pats your back to halt your
sentence before rushing Frisk; they’d joined Mirage and Papyrus in their
strange dancing game. You would thank her later for it. Sans stepped out from
behind you and his sockets went dark and wide. Baysoph cleared his throat
knowingly, blank eyes directing towards Asgore. Suppose you couldn’t avoid all
of it…
“Ah, Asgore this is the current head of the Mage HQ, Baysoph Shuto.” You
introduce Baysoph as Sans’ bones begin to rattle beside you. “Baysoph, this is
the King of Monsters and Mountain, Asgore Dreemurr.”
“Thank you………..ah. You must….haaaheheee…..be Gasters boy.”
“what.” Sans freezes up completely. Your worry suddenly spikes.
“Ahh…..I knew the whelp……….Heard he wound up……..shattered…….and
dispersed……across the.….Girl.” Baysoph demands your attention even though you
want to help Sans. He is visibly shivering rather harshly. You didn’t even know
skeletons had parents. “Have you seen……..any-heheeee- blackness in the……void?”
“Shadows aren’t discernable, so no.” You quip as his grin drips. He is actually
drooling.
“That’s because…………there is another place. A place with no return. Hewent
there.” You knew who he was. The only man in the HQ when you were young who
gave you hope of a new life. He’d vanished without so much as a trace or almost
memories. Only you and Baysoph recalled him, but never uttered his name around
the others. It felt as though he was a lost phantom who would follow the call
of his name. “Blacker then a sea of tar. True emptiness and shadow. It has no
name because it isn’t perceived. Any swallowed by it are forgotten and
dispersed into nothingness.”
“Oh……….Oh!” You smack your head for remembering. Baysoph had been teaching you
how to travel the between when you stumbled upon it. A crack. It was oozing
something like ink. Touching it resulted in an immediate pull, but your other
half got grabbed by Baysoph before it swallowed you whole. You looked into
nothing but blackness. That is when you understood the truest perils of the
void, and tamed it.
“Well, boy, I’ll make you a deal as well.” Baysoph smirks at Sans who blinks
and the lights for his eyes are tiny; quivering. “The girl knows how to get
there. She’s seen it. Should the vote be in our favor, send the girl there. If
she manages to return your father, you can keep the child.” His words are like
poison that begins to fester in Sans’ mind. He is contemplating his every word.
You might prefer being forgotten over breeding, but you didn’t know the extent
of being lost in complete blackness. Was it the same as the void – emptiness
and solitude? Or worse? It was clearly ‘punishment’ enough if Baysoph was
suggesting it for your price.
“What is the point of the vote, then? If she can return your father, shouldn’t
this be good?” Asgore asks with confusion. He was without understanding to the
voids workings.
“That nameless darkness is a taker, Asgore. If something leaves, something
replaces it. It’s either I don’t come back or he comes back. Regardless, I’m
gone.” You look to Sans. He drags his head up in immediate understanding. You
could read it in his very face: “No wonder I couldn’t find him.” You decided
not to bring it up. It seemed to be a sensitive subject; a miracle, actually,
that he remembered his father at all. With Papyrus’ enthusiasm you had imagined
he’d bring up parental figures, but you knew nobody. They were the only
skeletons you knew of, and noone before had ever mentioned a Gaster.
“Eh-hem.” Undyne loudly clears her throat abruptly, gaining everyone’s
attention. Frisk is holding her hand and eyeing the old man. Distrust glimmers
in his tiny eyes.
“Ah……excellent. Mirage. Forge. Come here please…” Baysoph’s voice resounds
through the park as both mages spiral their heads before wandering over. “Girl-
“
“On it.” You quip hastily, grabbing Undyne and Sans and giving big pleading
eyes towards Asgore. He seems to understand that he intends for an analysis of
Frisk. Sans is eerily silent and his pupils dilated as he gazes into
nothingness.
“You deal with that scumbag-“ “Undyne. Shush.” You plea as you drag them past
the picnic table while the others gather around. You drag Undyne and Sans
around to your front and Asgore stands beside you, Toriel behind him with
Alphys and Papyrus catching up.
“Okay, because it concerns Papyrus foremost, you guys cannot let him near
Baysoph. The dude will verbally cut into him like butter and Papyrus will melt
into a nothingness of sadness. Nobody wants to see skeleton tears today, so
that is the game plan.” You quickly mutter to everyone and Sans regains his
attention.
“he wouldn’t-“ “He would. You saw him. Usually I screw around with the dude
because he is a weird perverted creep, but this is a delicate situation and I
know he could end my life in the flipping blink of an eye so I don’t want any
sass. Undyne.” You spin in her direction, catching her off guard.
“I don’t mean it rudely, but I really wish you hadn’t come. Baysoph doesn’t
take misdemeanors or disobeyers kindly. No fighting. No weapons. Nada. From
anyone. It’ll only end badly. Please, keep your temper on lock. Please. If not
for me, for Frisk. If he sees anything that doesn’t give him reason to keep
them here, he wont hesitate!” You beg and grab her shoulders. She stands frozen
momentarily before biting her teeth together and knotting her brow.
“Understood.” “WHY ARE WE HUDDLED IN A CIRCLE AND WHISPERING?” Papyrus looms
over Sans and Undyne hastily clamps a finned arm over his jaw.
“Papyrus. Listen to me. See that old man?” You point towards Baysoph who is
peeking at Frisk who desperately wants to run. He turns to the only trustable
person nearby: Forge. Papyrus nods enthusiastically because Undynes hand still
traps his jaw in place. “Okay, um, he-he is really afraid of skeletons and has
super sensitive hearing and is generally a very grouchy old jerk. I don’t want
him making Sans feel sad, or you, so can you please stay away from him for me?
Sans as well – Sans isn’t allowed near him either…” You raise an eyebrow.
Whoever Gaster was clearly meant a great deal to Sans and reinitiating that
conversation at any point would wind up in disaster.
“VERY WELL, REA!! I, THE GREEEAAT PAPYRUS, WILL ENSURE EVERYONE REMAINS HAPPY!”
He poses dramatically. You can hear Baysoph chuckling behind you and visibly
watch Sans tense up.
“Okay, uh, c-can you get some food ready? I’ll bring him something. Not
spaghetti, though, please. Pie would work.” Papyrus contemplates your request
before grinning, giving a thumbs up, and sneaking towards the picnic basket
strewn on the blanket.
“Rea-“ Asgore tries to cut in, but you are speaking to fast to hear his
concerned voice. It feels like a humming bird replaced your heart.
“Okay. Um. Uh. Basically, nobody go near him. He can read minds and really is
screwed up in the brain area to the point of mental asylum, but, I mean, that’s
what happens when you’re nearly 2000 years old, I guess, eehh…..” Your head is
steaming over like a road-runner without brakes currently. A heavy paw settles
on your shoulder and Toriels peeks her head over your side.
“Dearie, please relax. You are going to give yourself a heart-attack at this
rate.” She whispers as she brushes aside some loose strands of hair. You blush
slightly and hang your head low.
“S-…Sorry. Its, uh, this has never happened before. Actually, ever. I
just…don’t want anything bad to happen to Frisk. Or you guys. You’ve…….you’ve
been through enough. If you guys can handle being forced into war, imprisoned
in a mountain for an exuberant amount of years, deal with the biased
politicians and manage anti-monster attack gangs before I even showed up? I
think I can handle another life or death situation…” You sigh, letting the
stress send anxious quivers over your body.
“You’re shaking like a leaf.” Undyne quotes and you nervously giggle with a rub
of the neck.
“It’ll stop. Just…don’t talk to Baysoph and don’t let him control your emotions
and thoughts. He can’t literally do that but he can read ‘em and he’ll hit
some……..sensitive points.” You look to Sans for understanding. His brow bones
are fixed into a glare rather then lazily hanging half closed. It looks almost
painful, but you spot Papyrus finishing the slicing of the pie and excuse
yourself. You’d left them alone with Frisk for too long.
“Thanks Papyrus. What would I do without you?” You whisper, hinting towards the
close proximity of the other mages. You aren’t even sure if Papyrus knows they
are mages. He picks up on the whispering and gives a sly wink.
“Not witness this skeleton greatness!” He ‘whispers’ back. You often blank on
the fact that Papyrus has an indoor voice he never actually utilizes. You give
a thankful laugh and a hasty peck on the cheek bones that sends a flurried
orange blush illuminates his entire skull. Rushing over to the others, Papyrus
was kind enough to prepare everyone a slice as you balance them on your arms.
“Hrmmm. Excellent mobility and bone structure.”
“I know, right!? His teeth are so white.”
“…Hmm.”
“Guys, seriously, the weird groping and touching thing didn’t appeal to any of
you?” You bark as you sidle alone the other 3. Baysoph was busy inspecting
Frisks head, eyes, and teeth.
“……Quite the silent child. Usually children…..hehaha your age…….scream and
cheer.” Baysoph tries to coax a reaction from Frisk that isn’t nervous or
blank. You set a piece of pie on the ridge of his chair and hand one towards
Frisk who happily accepts.
“He’s a mute, sir. He can’t speak and the only form of communication is through
writing and sloppy ASL.” Frisk looks to you dubiously for talking crazy and you
hastily wink at him from the corner of your eyes while letting Forge and Mirage
take their piece of pie. Mirage practically glows as she instantly forks a
piece of it into her mouth and moans with completion.
“Oooohh whoever made this needs to gimme the recipeee.” She grumbles as she
shoves another greedy forkful into her yapper. You sigh and offer a napkin to
her messy eating which is accepted with a blush.
“It was Toriel. She might let you have it if this ends well…” You sigh,
plopping down into the grass.
“Hmmm……a silent mage is always….something to strivefor…………but certainly not as
a beginner.” Baysoph mumbles with light agitation. He didn’t know of Frisks
soul-speaking ability, and he didn’t need to. He could try communications with
him, but hopefully Frisk understood to not reply if he even tried. Frisk
becomes tired of being too close to Baysoph and hastily crawls over and into
your lap; not wasting time either shoving pie into his mouth.
“How old are you, sweetie?” Mirage bends down to delicately wipe their bangs
apart and see more of their face. Frisk has the kindness to place the pie plate
in his lap and indicate his age with his fingers. “Wowie! 10 years old!
Congratulations on hitting the double digits!” Mirage giggles and Frisk blushes
to giggle with her.
“Ahhh…..he-heh.” Baysophs laugh is silenced by a thick cough. “Age is but a
number eventually…” He snickers. Frisk snuggles closer into your lap, seeking
comfort. Your heart clenches at shoving Frisk into such a sinister complication
like this, but it’s the for the future’s best. You force a hum through your
soul to try and warm and reach his own. He jumps momentarily before relaxing
against your arm; it must’ve worked.
“But it will be tedious…….aging, of course.” Baysoph grumbles to himself. You
hope he cannot detect the glowing happiness bubbling inside you. That’s right;
the aging was greatly slowed if not halted! Frisk would need to spend time in
the human world to even show hints of aging! You could practically sigh and
fall back into the grass with the relief flooding your soul.
“Mirage, what is……your opinion?”
“Hmm?” She cocks her head up with a fork sticking out from between her lips.
She’d been attempting to steal a bite from Forge who was silently chewing on
his own pie and raised it into the air to prevent her intrusion on his meal.
“Your opinion: Frisk staying……or coming to THC.” Baysoph clarifies. Mirage hums
in contemplation, leaping off her attempts to steal a bite and looking at you
and Frisk cuddling in the grass.
“Well…I do love kids……and I can tell you’re just a little bundle of fun and
care…Frisk, what do you wish for?” Mirage kneels besides Frisk, an almost
maternal look in her eyes. Frisk looks to you, to her, then glows as they point
towards the monsters. Silence takes place before she gives a mirthful giggle,
taking his head in her arms, and pressing a kiss to his forehead. She stands to
face Baysoph, you and Frisk both somewhat mesmerized with her sudden regality.
“I love kids. I would love another friend there. We could teach him so much,
care for him, and maybe even be something like siblings…” She looks down at
you, meeting your eyes. “But I love you more. Youare my friend. I ain’t bout to
hand you over to nobody, not even a breeder. But Frisk, know that you have so
much potential….just don’t let that little voice be yours.” Mirage flicks his
head teasingly. You both stiffen, and you don’t miss the scared stare Frisk
gives her suddenly. He was aware of the possession…
“Hm. Very well. Forge?” Baysoph attention switches to the towering figure.
Mirage backs up at Forge has to bend down pretty far to reach the ground. He
presses a giant finger into the center of Frisks body; his soul.
“…..Flower in the sun………radiant and lively…” He whispers poetically.
“And if we took them?”
“……….Wilted.” Forge frowns with a melancholy twinkle to his eyes.
Baysoph settles his hand on his chin, thinking long and hard.
“Very well. You two go talk to the monsters. I’ll figure this out.” Baysoph
shoos them away. Watching Mirage rush towards the monsters she quickly latches
onto Papyrus and screams something exciting. Mirage is openly welcomed to the
table and Forge silently sits on the blanket besides Asgore. Undyne is
impatiently ripping blades of grass from the ground, sighing, and repeating the
action as Alphys strokes her back in condolence.
Dragging your eyes back to Baysoph you find both his arms folded and supporting
his head at the lip. The milky white glare he has fixed onto you and Frisk
sends a frightened chill through you as you are vaguely aware of Frisk
shivering. Suddenly he leans back in his wheelchair with a rigid grin.
“There are other options.” Baysoph answers as though it was a question in the
silence.
“We could return the child to their parents. Their rightful parents.” You
imagine Frisks eyes are as wide as saucers. You’d explain later that this was
your fault, but now wasn’t the time; he was scheming something.
“Why bother?” You shrug, trying to derail the thoughts. “He is better off with
magical beings. They are nicer, from what I understand. Far nicer.”
“Niceness only gets you so far. Violence is a much better solution, wouldn’t
you say, Frisk?”
“Baysoph.” Your tone is warning. Frisk was sensitive. If that notebook and the
memory flash you’d gotten from Frisk was, along with any gathered information,
the Underground hadn’t been a trip with unicorns and rainbows.
“I can see into your mind, child, and you remember it. Every time. Every trial.
Every de-“
“Baysoph please.” The elder glares at your tone.
“…Give me your phone.” Baysoph beckons to your pocket greedily. You wince,
click your tongue under your breath and toss it to him. He paws it around in
his hand while you attempt to comfort Frisk as best you can; their head is hung
low and the shivering kicked up again. There is a light familiar beep from
Baysoph as you wrench your eyes into a glare only to catch him pressing the
SAVE star. When had you-
“The truth is, girl, this brat goes around considering it fun to dust the
entire Underground for a change of pace. I would too, honestly. Y’hear that
boy? You’re already too far gone – too far swallowed. How’d you like killing
all of your so called friends? Your companions? Thatfamilyof yours?” Baysoph
begins to bark mocks at Frisk who shoves their hands into their ears.
“Baysoph!” “Not a word, missy.” He glares a single warning into you that
pierces your spine. You sit, immobilized with terror. The magic intent
radiating off him is death itself.
“How’d it feel to drive a knife into your adoptive mother? Crush the skull of
your useless witty tall skeleton over there? Rummage through every bush, tree,
and crevice on the hunt for dust? It’s almost like playing hide and seek!”
Baysoph guffaws as Frisk curls in on themselves.
“Can’t take the criticism, boy? The truth?? He-HAHeeee, well you have to. You
have to go tell that armless worm you want to protect that instead of keeping
them safe, one time you got so frustrated with his prattling you shoved him off
the bridge yourself!!” His laugh is maniacal and you finally understand his
intentions when it is far too late. Frisks venom pool is boiling with unbridled
hatred. It was a test. Yours. His. Theirs.
Frisks breathing accelerates as they desperately claw at their thrumming soul.
You fight the cold confining chains unperceivable by any other. Baysoph has a
sick sense of humor, but if Frisk ‘popped’ even he would be effected. And
Sans…Sans wouldn’t see it coming, and with only 1 HP……he’d be dead. Papyrus
would never forgive you. No; nobody would forgive you. Disregarding the vote
entirely, you’d want to disappear yourself.
“St…….stop…” You whisper, trying to break the silent spell. You could almost
make-out the little chant he did behind his grin.
“Frisk. St-Stop worrying! He istryingto get to you! Be strong, please!” You beg
at his soul as he grunts in painful distress. You freeze and focus any you can
directly into your arms. If you couldn’t move the rest of yourself, at least
you were capable of dispelling it. Where it would get dispelled or how was
something to concern about when it happened – people would question the
monsters over the humans if a random bolt of lightning just cracked the sky
suddenly where a single cloud didn’t hang.
The chant stopped. You accepted the test.
Frisk had scurried along the ground in agony and nobody besides you three were
even aware what would transpire momentarily. Throwing your arm out and into
Frisks chest, your arm crackled with pain from the instant sucking current
zapping through you. Swinging your opposing arm out and around towards the sky,
you ready for the seering-
“No.”
Baysoph streams a burst of gravity onto your arm, lodging it into the soft
soil.
There was no time for the backfire.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
“So there we were! The flipping Pyramids, right?! Me, Rea-“ Mirage ensures she
says your name to not offend the family, “and Zebbulon! We had a mission to
retrieve an ancient artifact that was rightfully Tic-Tacs!” Mirage let her arms
flow as she told the story to the captive audience: Papyrus, Alphys and Flowey.
Sans couldn’t shake the uncomfortableness of Flowey being so
uncharacteristically silent. Not a peep from the weed. Maybe they learned from
Undynes example that speaking up was going to get him killed. He didn’t hate
the silence so much as it rattled his bones- heh-like his old days of plotting.
The brute mass known as Tic-Tac was something of a gentle giant alright.
Despite the earlier display of distrust and over-protectiveness, he warmed to
them all instantly despite his lack of conversation. Mira or whatever took to
Papyrus like a puzzle piece. If this was a different situation, he’d accept her
whole-heartedly- he’d tell that to Tori or you later-into the family as his new
best friend; Frisk would totally be jealous.
That Bay guy though…
“Sans?” Asgore nudges his radius to grab his dulled attention.
“hm?”
“Are you okay?”
Sans sighs, sending a side glance at you and the kid curled up besides the
maniac. His grin is sickening. Asgore catches on.
“I distrust him as well.”
“the prick isn’t just off his rocker; his brains rot through.” Sans grimaces.
“He is the wisest and possibly strongest of them all. Likely, he wishes to gain
something greater from this all. Why bother allowing a ‘vote’ if there weren’t
good things to come for him of Frisk staying?” Asgore whispered, stirring his
tea.
“Because he is a fucking asshole who should’ve aged and rotted away so fucking
long ago.” Undyne mutters on the ground.
“Undyne.” Asgore warns, motioning to Papyrus.
“What?! It’s so true! How dare he disrespect the royal family! Mage bastard…”
She mutters with a pout.
“….Baysoph has reason to his madness…….often, not noticeable…” Forge sets his
drink down – Toriel had just give the poor man the thermos since his fingers
threatened to break the delicate cups.
“Do you have any ideas as to his reasons for this?” Asgore implores answers
from Forge.
“………..He is worried……he doesn’t have long. He must…….pick a successor.” Forge
sighs.
“a successor for what?” Sans pries.
“To overwatch……the worlds……their people…their mages. He……..he might not act it
now……and never with us, either……but he cares deeply for her.” Forge settles the
thermos down. “He intended Zebbulon take charge……though everyone
noticed….corruption in his soul…….a seeking for a higher purpose.”
“…..Are you saying he wants Rea to take over?” Toriel asks politely. Forge nods
to everyones minor shock. Sans mulled it over. To them, you were just a kid.
Sure you were older then you appeared, but you had to watch….the universe? The
universe’s?!   
“That is a lot of responsibility to settle onto one individual, is it not?”
Asgore chuckles unsurely. “I have enough stress and work just trying to
maintain my people.”
“It is necessary……there must………be balance. Zebbulon seeks nothing..besides
destruction……Rea seeks to better……her visited worlds. Your world. It’s all she
ever wants.” He kneads his hands together and fidgets with his knuckles. “She
was a good girl. Sad, at first.”
“Sad?” Toriel asks, settling in for a story.
“Ah…….she came from earth. Not here. Not home. Her own realm………I watched. We’d
sensed her magic for some time…..they were terrified- the humans……..figured she
was a witch…………They killed her parents……and set her in a fire.” Toriel lightly
gasps and covers her snout with her paws. Tears prickle in the sides of her
eyes.
“Tori?” Asgore pleads, reaching across.
“I-I’m fine…I simply didn’t…know.” Toriel winces. “I was convinced the humans
relied on mages.”
“Far from it, ma’am.” Forge sighs. “I was similar. Forgotten. I was thrown from
my home…..grew in the mountains……….learned the terrain. Survived til Baysoph
invited me…..invited me to a family. People like me.” He looks to the sky with
a tender smile. “It was bliss……It had been so long….since I received warmth.”
He drags his gaze to Mirage. She is enthusiastically re-enacting the story with
Papyrus helping. “Mirage was born there…..she was a tyke when I arrived. Frisks
age. She only had Baysoph, Zebb and her father…..but she dreamt much….much
bigger then home. The world. The worlds…………It was shattered….when her father
vanished in the void. So, instead, she let humans give her dreams. Dreams to
admire.”
“My…” Toriel whispers, entranced.
“Everyone……has a past. Some with regrets…..Some with joy……..Rea lives with
regret. Her and Frisk……are more similar then it seems.”
“because they are humans who turned out to be mages?” Sans flicks his napkin
absently. He’d heard enough of the story from you when he was in a bubble. He’d
felt miserable enough before. Pity; not misery.
“……No. Rea doesn’t want…..Frisk to lose their parents. She wants…..to let them
keep you. You are good……both- no, all of you. We can tell. So can Baysoph.
That’s why he is testing her.”
“Testing what?” Asgore presses.
“….Her desperation. Her will…….to make amends. Frisks parents, I
understand………were cruel...” An uneasy silence covers the table momentarily.
“Her parents………refused her existence.”
“She would give it all…..to know he was staying here….with you all. Not growing
like she had; under the manipulation……………of Zebbulon.”
“Zebb?” Sans tilts his skull. What did he have to do with her besides being,
from what he understood, evil?
“Zebbulon….was the one put in charge of her training………Baysoph thought it
wise………..It wasn’t.”
“Why is that?”
“….Her coming close to death…..So many times……….Yet he never changed. They were
brutal with her. Denying her freedom she lived for……Her soul was once so pure,
and now…” Forge frowns and stares into the thermos. He turns to Sans. He’d
heard the gist report when they were walking.
“You know it…” Sans freezes, contemplating. He tries to recall your mess of a
soul. Orange with a deep blue glow, cracks along the sides, and a bright green
pit center. His sockets widened in shock.
“she puts up a brave front that cracks under pressure…….has an integrity to
uphold -“ “And has suppressed kindness…” Forge nods in agreement.
“What?” Asgore asks, not in the loop. Sans is too concentrated to bother
explaining.
“Precisely…..Zebbulon is the cause of that. Her soul……….Was a shimmering
emerald….laced with fiery passion……….But they dulled it………changed her. The poor
girl was nothing but a jewel…. They cut the jewel that didn’t ask to be
shaped.” His final words are tenser then his calm demeanor.
A zapping explosion erupts to the sidelines. Frisk. Everyone is momentarily
blinded by a red flash and winces under a tingling pressure surging through the
air. The instant his eyes have vision, he looks to the family. Everyone is
confused and/or fallen down, blinking away the sudden daze. His priority spins
to Frisk and you before his world goes rigid.
You are thrown back onto the ground, face down, and your hair is returning to
that iridescent pearl white. Frisk is trying to suppress sobs with his hands as
he leans back into the tree. Their eyes are that eerie vibrant red as they
shimmer back into a hazel almond. Baysoph leans forward and kicks your leg.
“Huh. That’s some powerful hatred. Sorry kid – had to figure out how bad it
was. Seems she’s de-“ He doesn’t listen to the last part- he fazes forward and
grabs your shoulder.
“rea?!” He shouts, shaking your arm violently. He ignores the venomous laugh
bubbling from the insane bastard and parts the white locks covering your eyes.
The explosion had destroyed your hairband, singed the ends of each lock. Dead
open eyes stared at him while her bitten tongue let blood fall steadily out of
her mouth. He caught the whiff of charred and burnt flesh. What had he done?
His magic surges into his eye and the presence of the Blaster vibrating with
anger pop’s up beside him without a single command. A tear bubbles into his
socket as he glares up at the one responsible.
“If you want to blame me, fool, you’d best look to the youth. This is what
happens when magic goes unkept and manipulated.”
Sans’ hollow sockets look to Frisk who is crumpled into desperate shriveling
sobs.
“What have you done.” Sans’ gaze is wrenched backwards to Mirage. Her hair has
taken an absolutely breathless sky blue tint, lengthened, and flows upwards to
the sky as though gravity led it. Her eyes are skipping from deep blue to light
cyan as a waterfall of tears tremble down her cheeks.
“Oh dear. Best fix this, I suppose…” Baysoph grumbles, a yellow tint flickering
in the corner of his eye. It’s a SAVE. The bastard had a SAVE star-!
 
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                        L O A D
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 The world shifts around you. A blink. Baysoph, waving your phone around like a
cocky teacher. A bitten scowl turns into a snarl as you grab Frisk in your lap
and bury them into your chest. He is sobbing erratically the instant he feels
your shirt. A searing pain shakes through the arm you’d thrown into the ground
– of course, the one that was already sensitive from the previous assistance
you provided Frisk. You dared not look at the mess it probably appeared as. A
hint of copper was churning in your mouth but you ignored it as your eye began
to spiral with intensity and malice.
“Well, isn’t that simply-“ Baysoph halts his sentence, something behind you
gaining his attention as a devilish grin extends onto his wrinkled cheeks. “My,
my…what was it like to remember?”
Your head spun about to be met with Sans’ jacket. His sockets were empty, grin
strained, and hands hidden inside his coat pockets.
“what’d ya do, old man?”
“I think the greater question is…..what didn’tyoudo? He gave you so many
opportunities, yet you are useless. Hesitant, dull, and incompetent. Just like
your father…” He retorts as he relaxes back. You stroke your hand through
Frisks hair as you settle your gaze back onto Baysoph.
“Very well, girl…………..heheehehehee- Mirage! Forge! We’re heading home.” He
calls abruptly. Your eyes widen.
“EEEHHHH?!? Nooo not yet! I was just getting to know Papyrus!!” “…..Hmm..”
“HA-HAH-“ Baysoph beats his clogging chest with a fist. “I could care less for
the simpleton. Come now…”
“Awwww~ Bye-bye…” Mirage mutters before sprinting over. Forge’s heavy footsteps
stumble past you.
“I suppose you will get your way yet again, girly….hehee.” He winks at you and
your soul could practically soar out of your body.
“HAHAAA- I expect….full,honest reports. I know how to get here now.” You sit
dumbfounded in the grass as Frisk grips desperately into your shirt and skin,
the front utterly soaked with tears.
“Uh, ah, o-okay?” You mind cannot grasp what is going on while your heart has
returned to being a hummingbird.
“HEheheeha……..Get that arm fixed……We’ll keep Zebb out of the loop……..heHAH- So
long as there is……Progress.” He jabs a knowing hand at Frisk.
“Um, y-yes sir.”
“Mir, you’d best hold onto Forge. I don’t wish to hold your hand like a child.”
Baysoph quickly warns before a jagged tear is plunged into the air on the hill.
“WAIT, WHAT ABOUT-“ Mirage shouts in instantaneous unbridled fear as Forge
hooks her under one arm and holds the wheelchair with the other.
“Take care, Rea!! HAHAAA!!” There is a push to the chair almost like wind as
they fly into the void and out of existence, the tear closing immediately.
“OH! GOODBYE FRIEND!! THEY WERE NICE.” Papyrus shouts beside you Sans as he
waves enthusiastically. He perks up at the sniffling of Frisk into your shirt.
“AH, FRISK! WHAT IS THE MATT-“ “Pffff-HAHAHAHAAhaHAHAhahahaHA!!” You fling
yourself backwards into the grass, clutching Frisk with your worse arm as you
cover the wild relieved tears springing from your eyes.
“OH. THE HUMANS ARE BROKEN, YOUR MAJESTY!! SANS, WHAT DID YOU DO?!” Papyrus
squeals innocently, leaning down to inspect you both. Frisk was still sobbing
into your shirt. There was a sudden falling pressure beside you and a bone
brushed your ear and a strained breath caught a few stray hairs, but it didn’t
both you.
Frisk gets to stay. Youget to live. He said your name.Nothing could ruin the
unbridled happiness soaking through your relieved frame that lays in the sun-
kissed grass. Nothing.
 
===============================================================================
 
 
Everyone returned home to celebrate. You snuck away into your room as soon as
Toriel had checked your arm – it was nasty. You managed the excuse of it being
from the first time with dealing Frisks ‘temper’. She bought it- only you,
Frisk, Sans (and Flowey who actually spoke up in the car about the ‘crazy
coot’) remembered. Not even Mirage and Forge remembered.
Toriel busied herself with baking a celebratory cake. Undyne needed to vent for
nearly an hour about Baysoph. Sans kept avoiding you and focused on helping
Asgore comfort Frisk. They faked their tears as happy that you both were
allowed to stay, but you knew it was more. You felt at your heartbeat to remind
yourself…..it took a bit of concentration, but you remembered it.
You died.
It wasn’t a close call – you died. Or, had been dead.
The intimidating power over rewinding time in the little star gave you a
shiver, but you flicked it upon reaching your room and hastily stored it into
the locked study. Settling into the mattress, your mind continued to reel and
piece the events together still.
“hey.” You could’ve jumped and bashed your head into the ceiling with how hard
Sans scared you. You grabbed your chest and sighed, trying to ease its beating.
“Seriously dude? You don’t see me popping into your room without warning! What
if I was fucking changing? Bit too much skin for ya, but still.” You snicker to
hide the scare.
“where’s the star?” You pause your cackling and drag your gaze to his sockets.
He has an almost detached glare as awaits your answer.
“Tell me what happened to your father and I’ll tell you.” You shrug as he
cringes and clicks his non-existent tongue.
“that’s pretty low.” He pulls the thermos from the picnic Forge had to drink
out of from his pockets. You groan and rub your face.
“I have so many fucking questions Sans, and then you are asking me just as
many. Gimme something. I might be generous, but not about giving away all of my
life and secrets…..What do you want it for?” You retry.
“where did you get it?”
“Jesus dude, c’mon.” You grumble, rubbing your forehead. “I answer this, and
you answer two questions. Honest.” You point an accusatory finger at him. He
contemplates it, and shrugs.
“fine. ‘s fair.”
“Baysoph gave it to me. Found it outside a universes Ebott. Guess I know how,
though.” You grumble, falling back into your mattress.
“that fucking-“ “Ah-ah-ah! Two question, two answers.” You remind, shaking your
finger to deny his rant.
“Why do want it ?” You ask again.
“kid didn’t want another load or reset. they destroyed ‘em all. recognized the
pesky thing soon as he poked it.” Sans grumbles quietly. He was right, though;
you had promised yourself to not ask Sans the sensitive subject of his dad.   
“Well……were you about to fight Baysoph back there?”
“thinking ‘bout it, yeah.” You snicker and lean upwards. It was a sensitive
motion for your arm which still prickled with the back-shot of the lightning.
It had redirected off the ground and zapped your heart to crisp.
“You, Mr. 1 HP were about to fight one of the strongest mages I know, and you
can’t even beat me? Are you suicidal or stupid?” You laugh a tad harder and
instantly regret it as you flinch from the sheets rubbing your wrist.
A warmth envelops your frame and blue coats your vision. Sans buries his skull
into the side of your head. You can hear the hum of his soul pulsing besides
you as a gentle glowing heat reverberates off of him.
“you’re the stupid one……ya fucking died and you’re laughing like today is
great.” He whispers against your earlobe as an embarrassed flushed heat melts
your cheeks and ears.
“Frisk got to stay. That’s all that matters…” You mutter. Why is he hugging me?
Concern? No, he doesn’t care, right? I’m a threat. The hell he hugging me for
then?! He leans back, grasping your shoulders, and gazes into your eyes;
looking.
“you think you don’t matter now?”
B-BUM                                 B-BUMP
“REA?!? You in there!? CAKES DONE!! GET OUT HERE!!” Sans steps back with a
simple spin and falls into a void he opens with ease. You remain dazed and
flustered as Undyne busts the door down, Papyrus on her figurative tail.
“The hell you sitting around for?! C’mon!!” She shouts, grabbing your better
hand and dragging you with her. Papyrus closes your door before giddily hopping
down the stairs behind you. When you are wrenched around the corner and led
towards the dining area. There is a simple coated cake that Toriel obstructs,
plates with an assortment of cookies, drinks, and a veggie and cracker platter
are set up. Alphys and Toriel are fretting over final decorations but halt as
you finally arrive. Undyne throws her arms into the air and rushes towards her
seat and Alphys.
“SANS!! NO SLIPPERS ON THE TABLE!!” Papyrus shouts with annoyance as he stomps
towards a leisurely lounging Sans. You were still trapped in your separated
reality; your acceptance that things were okay. Frisk rushed you abruptly
causing you to momentary lose air.
“I’m sorry. I’m so so so so sorry. Please forgive me. I-I-I’m s-soo
sorry.”Frisks soul is whispering frantically as he kneads himself into your
shirt, fighting the tears this time. He hadn’t let go of you the entire time at
the park and Toriel had to pry them off when you’d asked for a moment upstairs.
You pull Frisk away by their shoulders and kneel down before pulling them back
into a hug.
“Don’t be afraid. None of that was your fault – he pushed you on purpose. He
made me fail that. It was just a test…Shhh”You coo back.
“That was a test?! That’s horrible…”Frisk recoils in shock.
“He’s always been like that……But he is better than Zebbulon.” You brush away at
their faint tear trails.
“How?”Frisk asks curiously. You giggle and hold their hands together between
yours.
“…He let you stay. He let mestay. He let me live……He let me keep my name…” You
whisper with a whimper. Everyone had earned or had been privilegedto keep their
own names. You were just a weapon in any perspective, friend or not. Letting
you hold onto a name which he acknowledged……was like flying without wings.
“Well,” Asgore cuts in from behind you both, setting a paw onto your shoulder,
“I suppose it would be necessary considering you have a task and screaming
“Girl!” doesn’t suit him honestly.” The lazy stance of Asgore brings a giggle
up in Frisk as he vaults to the burly beast and snuggles into his beard.
“You doing alright?” Asgore gives a heavy sigh.
“I’m the one who should be asking honestly, but, yes. Loads better. It
certainly removed some weight.” He casually taps a fist to his shoulder to
prove its sturdy worth. “Yourself?”
“I thought I got whisked to a bloody cloud suddenly. I almost called it a
dream.” You sigh before Papyrus grabs your hand and glows.
“COME, REA, IT IS TIME FOR CELEBRATORY CAKE!” Your retort is cut short as his
large gloved hands cover your face, practically suffocating you. He begins to
guide you about the dining area towards your seat where you stub your toe
against the bottom.
“Pa-Papyr- oof!” He plops you into your seat and his upper body pushes it in
while pinning you against the back.
“I don’t see why we gotta-“ “Shhhh, dear.” Toriel hushes Flowey as something
clatters around.
“Papyrus, can you please remove your hands?”
“I CANNOT! AH, SANS, ADD MY THING!!” Papyrus scolds as Sans huffs a laugh.
“chill bro. imma boneified professional.” You cover the unsightly snort that
nearly escapes you while Papyrus’ head thunks against the top of your chair.
“Guys, c’mon, whats going on? I’ve had enough excitement for one day? Also,
Toriel, how’d you even make a damn cake in under an hour?! I mean, fire magic,
sure, but that doesn’t answer the entire thing! What, you just got cake mix
ingredients ready on the shelves for the homely adventure? Why-“ Papyrus shoves
his gloved hand against your mouth to muffle your constant questioning prattle.
Atleast you can breathe through your nose.
“REA, LESS QUESTIONS, MORE GROWING EXCITEMENT! SANS, NO, THERE!!” Papyrus
grumbles again which gets a little laugh from Alphys.
“aww, don’t skullk paps – gotta make room for the rest.” Papyrus goes rigid
behind you, trembling with rage.
“Can you reach, babe?”
“Ah, u-um, y-y-yeah! A-Are yo-you rea-dy-dy?” Alphys asks.
“All set.” Undyne. What are these guys plotting now? You just want to nibble on
some cake…
“Okay, Papyrus, go ahead.” Toriel coaxes. Papyrus gives a little “Nyeh heh”
before removing the gloves from your vision. The cake has been pushed closest
towards your seat and everyone is patiently watching as you look down at the
cake. You can feel your mouth widen in unsure shock as you look over the final
touches on the cake.
It was a cream mocha colored cake that smelled of caramel and had a peach
coating over the entirety with a nice drizzle effect of chocolate. Along the
bottom of the border were a multitude of yellow candy flowers and colored
hearts. They were no bigger than your pinky nail and they trailed along the
bottom. On the top was a beautiful bundle of strawberries. Along the side above
the petals was the royal insignia repeated over and over. The border at the top
had little bones circling around the cake with some sticking up and being
illuminated by violet and pink flames. Along the bones was either a color dyed
Swedish fish or a dinosaur graham cracker with drawn on glasses. Scanning over
every little detail brought you to inspect the center which had words scrawled
neatly onto the peach icing.
“Welcome To Our Home Rea”
“It was, indeed, planned. We just needed to gather the materials and a good
time to finally make and present it more formally. It was cooking before we
left for the park. We apologize for the sudden surprise, but after everything
you’ve done for us, for Frisk, and the risks…you certainly deserved th-
Wah….Rea? Rea, dearie?” Toriel calls gently from the sidelines of the table.
You are trapped staring down the cake with wide eyes and a gaping jaw, tears
running down your cheeks steadily.
“Oh. Look. She broke. Great. Can I go?” Flowey grumbles and Frisk jumps from
their seat and pulls at your pants.
“Rea?! D-Don’t cry! Is it written wrong?”Frisk frets, trying to reach your
shocked face with a napkin.
“What are ya cryin’ for!?” Undyne barks.
“Ho-Honey, m-mayb-be it-it’s the s-stress ca-ca-catch-hing up….” Alphys offers
as Papyrus hugs you back into the chair.
“U-UH, R-REA…I-Its okay? Don’t cry, small mage Rea. This is a happy cake! Are
these happy tears? You do not appear happy!”
“Oh dear, are you allergic to strawberries?” Toriel gasps, looking guilty. “I
knew I should’ve picked blueberries…” She mutters. After a few blinks and
fusses you finally snap free of the broken illusion and let a flushed
embarrassment overtake your face. You can’t even focus enough to keep your hair
brunette as it fades into an opaque white.
“N-NO NO! U-Uh, um, I j-just…I just ne-never had someone m-make me a c-cake
for….me.” You whimper, accepting Frisks napkins and dabbing your cheeks.
“Sorry, dammit, sorry.”
“Wow, that’s really depressing. What kinda life did you have?” “Flowey.” Toriel
hisses as Papyrus gives a comforting rub on your shoulders.
“Um-uh- do-do we split it? I-I’m not supposed t-to eat the whole thing…right?
Like, d-don’t get me wrong, I am sure it delicious, but, like, um, I only think
I-I could eat a slice? I-I-I don’t know how this works…” You murmur and curl
your legs up towards your chest. This was so good and yet completely
humiliating.
“Well, it’s a start.” Asgore resounds, taking a knife to cut the cake. There is
a little tapping at the door which catches Frisks attention as they scurry off
to investigate. Asgore and Toriel work on distributing the slices; they made
sure you got one of each little thing while Papyrus attends to your streaming
tears. There is a little pitter patter and a bark before a white blur hops into
your lap. Papyrus shrieks like a girl and rushes backwards into the wall. It’s
a puppy that somewhat resembles a Pomeranian, but bigger. It’s as white as your
hair and happily pants in your face. It doesn’t hesitate to set both paws level
with your breasts and lap wildly at your cheeks. You sputter and try to control
the pooch. Sans is guffawing on the sidelines, banging a fist against the table
and clattering the silverware spread around.
“YOU FRIVOLOUS LITTLE MENACE!!” Papyrus shrieks, diving for the dog in your
lap. The dog jumps atop his skull and dives face first into your slice of cake
and nibbles away at the top adornments. “NO!! BAD DOG!” Papyrus cries, prying
the dog off the table. Undyne, atleast, protected the whole cake. Papyrus
scowls at the canine who happily yips and munches onto his finger. Papyrus
shrieks again and shakes the dog off who laps directly in your lap again. His
little nose and mouth are absolutely- PFFFT.
“He’s caked in icing. Frisk, can I have a napkin?” You beckon before the dog
wildly laps at your face. Sans lets another chuckle erupt from his ribs, though
he is coughing with the lack of oxygen he isn’t receiving.
“smalls, my ribs……oh my ribs..” He struggles to make words. You feel proud.
“REA, FORGIVE ME AND DENY THIS CANINE ANY AFFECTION! HE HAS BEEN PESTERING US
FOR YEARS!!” Papyrus groans with anguish. Frisk finally retrieves you a napkin
which you give a thumbs up in appreciation to prevent the little dogs tongue
from accidentally getting in your mouth. You didn’t dare ask where it had been
besides your eviscerated slice of cake and Papyrus’ glove. He settles down
quickly when you start working the icing out of his fur which is a task in and
of itself considering it blends in far too well.
“Well, who’s dog is it? Complain to them.” You suggest to Papyrus as Toriel
works on getting you another slice.
“noone knows. he just used to wander the underground. now he wanders new new
home.” Sans shrugs. His slice has, also, vanished. You know it was there
because he saved the strawberry and tossed it your way. The dog yips and hoists
itself high enough to snag the strawberry and happily nibble on it in your lap.
“So it’s a monster too?”
“He’s bee-en a-al-i-ive longer th-then-en a-a normal-al dog and i-i-is consi-
sidered a-a puppy, s-so probably…” Alphys chimes in as she watches you
naturally clean them.
“I don’t see ‘im hang with the dog pack at all.” Undyne adds. Petting his
wildly panting frame, a thought dawns on your face. Instinctually, you turn to
Toriel and Asgore. You already see doubt brewing in Asgores face.
“Well…..since this dog ate my slice of cake which was meant for me……does that
mean that because it was meant for me that this dog is meant for me?” Your eyes
twinkle and the dogs little black eyes follow suit as the goats get his full
attention.
“YOU HAVE A NEW SLICE.” Papyrus warns besides you, glaring at the hound. Your
eyes go wide, look at the slice, looking back towards Papyrus, before you
slowly and deliberately drag the slice towards the dog.  “REA. YOU WOULDN’T
DARE.”
“Wouldn’t do what, Paps?” You dangerously waggle your eyebrows at the skeleton
as the cake comes closer.
“THAT IS UNFAIR.” Papyrus demands one more time.
“I have no idea what you are on about, Papyrus, honest. I just want to take my
cake.” Asgore groans and runs a hand up his beard. His eyes rest on you with a
heavy sigh.
“You need to walk him, buy his food, attend his daily needs-“ “YES!! Yes yes
yes yes THANK YOU!!!” You screech, grabbing the dog and hoisting him into the
air. His tail is wagging furiously as everyone laughs to Papyrus’ misfortune.
“Wh-What are y-you go-going to name h-him.”
“Trip-Pip.” You monotone reply with a sneaky grin.
“Tr-“ “trip-pip?”
“Yeah. He is quick and will probably be tripping me a lot and he is tiny like a
pipsqueak. Though I will probably just call you Trip.” You sing and press a
kiss between his ears. He yips at you and snuggles into your lap as you raise
the plate of cake out of his reach.
“NYOO-HOO-HOOOO. WHY REA? WHY MUST YOU BRING THIS LOATHSOME BEAST OF BITING
INTO THE HOUSE??” Papyrus fake cries out.
“What’d you say about me?” You warn, causing Undyne and Asgore to laugh. Sans,
Alphys, Frisk and Toriel look on with calm and pleased smiles. Of course,
Papyrus is ‘drowning in sorrow’ and Flowey is being his usual prick. Overall,
everything just feels…….
Perfect.
Chapter End Notes
     Things are finally looking up I guess :)
     Please leave your comments below or send me an ask or question over
     Tumblr (you can remain anonymous or request to not be publicly
     mentioned <3 )
      
     Check_Out_The_Official_Tumblr_Here!!
      
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     She_already_has_a_few_examples_posted!!
***** Time To Shop *****
Chapter Summary
     Rea got a dog.
     Now how do you dog?
Chapter Notes
     Happy 4th of July - AKA Update Day - AKA My sisters 26th fucking
     birthday!!
     Yeah.
     Moving on from the a-holes that have been flaring fireworks for the
     past two weeks, I FINALLY UPDATED!~!
     Sorry for the long wait and only to result in a short chapter.
     Working on that fluff y'know?
     Its probably a bit too early to mention, but the first full August
     week I will be heading off to camp~
     This should be from the 5th to the 13th.
     Therefore I am going to aim to get a bunch of writing work done to
     post before I depart!
     Please send what you'd like to see the most of to my Tumblr - I will
     be automatically updating the collab with DiabolicalPanda next though
     - that has been delayed far too long.
     Anyways, sorry for the long message - it was kinda necessary =3="
     ENJOY THE READ
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Trip was assuredly a cuddly pooch as you settled in for the night. He’d been
following you around the house like a lost chick. For being a nearly legitimate
walking cotton ball it sure was difficult to find him whenever he strayed away.
While you didn’t always watch him, his presence was hard to miss as his little
panting breath was directly on your leg. He was, predictably, very fast and
small so his constant vanishing act was going to be a problem. Most times than
not throughout the day you found him either stalking Papyrus or Sans, trying to
get outside, or harassing Frisk. Nibbling on their pant leg or yipping to gain
attention. Frisk finds it cute and gives Trip affection not long before you’re
scooping him up and away.
For Papyrus’ vehement claims of distaste for dogs, he was the one to show you
precisely where spare dog food was. There wasn’t a lot, but it would last you
the night and tomorrow morning. Papyrus had handed you a bowl which clearly had
a vast amount of names scribbled off with a sharpie. You swear if you squinted
as he wandered away to avoid Trip he had blush on his bones. It was adorable;
Trip loved the food too.
You stripped out of clothes and decided to snuggle into bed with just a tank
and underwear. It was a warm night tonight. Trip had been dashing around your
room enthusiastically, but he kept pawing at your hidden office. You hadn’t
even considered the fact that you changed in front of, technically, a monster.
Though Trip seemed incapable of talking or doing bipedal movement like the
other Guard Dogs, so maybe he was more animalistic. Or was that realistic? You
shrugged and opened the window before settling in. He kept pawing at the door
until you began gently clicking your tongue. You’d set up a pillow on the
ground just for him, but he completely bypassed it and got an intense stare to
the edge of your bed. As though reading his mind, you meandered into a sitting
position to hoist him. He lacked the patience for your assistance and attempted
to jump onto the mattress. He had made it half way, but the soft mattress
bounced him backwards and sent him tumbling.
You did what you could to suppress the turbulence of laughter that spills out-
it’s rather late and you have yet to test the thickness between the walls and
floors. He wriggles about on the floor almost like a pig in mud before reaching
to his feet again. He eagerly stands on the edge of the mattress with a
yearning glint in his eyes. You don’t hesitate to lift him onto the mattress.
“Guess you’re going to be doing this everynight, hm?” You mumble and lean back
as you scratch beneath his chin. He just pants and settles in at your hip. All
curled up he truly resembles a massive cotton ball. You poof your pillow to
readjust the comfort and relish in the comfort. It was different from the bed
you had back at the HQ. That bed was more along the lines of a brick, though
you had never minded or doubted it before. The odd fluffy sensation had been
knew, for certain, although you hadn’t made complaints yet. There was something
about slipping into the cushion that just made it so much simpler to relax. So
much easier to have dreams.
Resting back and staring up at the ceiling, you let the faint breeze of the
night life wander in through your window. You breathe the fresh air and
continue to accept that this place is, supposedly, your new home. Baysoph had
allowed it. He had even uttered the name you had given yourself. It was as
though the leash attached to your collar was finally unhooked and you were
free. You knew fully well that at any given moment he could come in and smite
the freedom you had claimed, but you would enjoy this time while you had it.
Mentally you make note to continue investigating all the seals and to every now
and then blip between worlds and realms. Although you now had a new objective
to see through with the Dreemurrs regarding monster safety, laws, and
permissions, it didn’t give you the right or leniency to abandon your previous
sealing duties. The main issue now would happen to be that Trip-Pip was your
personal responsibility from this point on. If there were fights or other
uncertain issues, how long would you be gone? You didn’t doubt that leaving him
here would be just fine – Frisk or Papyrus would surely attend to his needs.
But the issue wasn’t him getting fed or not, it was about upholding the task of
caring for a pet. You’d been gifted a parrot a long time ago and it had been at
HQ awaiting your return. Mirage cared for it in your place. It didn’t matter
though. Time transcended differently even though it was slowed down in the HQ’s
space of existence. You didn’t return to the bird until it was elderly and had
all but forgotten about your life. It was bitter sweet, but you at that point
just let Mirage keep them. You’d forgotten their name, gender, even the colors
of their feathers. You’re jobs made it nearly impossible to stay in one place
at the same time. You didn’t dare bring a pet into the Void – it would likely
cause them erratic behavior, fear, possibly even a flight response. They would
be lost in the nothingness. Maybe even turn rabid or insane. You didn’t want
whatever to be floating around to wait and pounce at a bad time. Now it was
even more apparent it was a bad choice. If something along those lines happened
and it was Sans in the Void, he could get dusted. Nobody would ever know and
nobody would ever locate his remains. Not even you could. It was an gravity
lacking zone of pure and unadulterated blaring white – specks of dust couldn’t
just simply be gathered, collected, and returned. How would you even explain
that to Papyrus?
You derail your thoughts quickly. The mere image was too miserable to ponder
about. It was a question you know would go unanswered, and it was better that
way. Trip has a faint snore as he settles in at your side; you absently scratch
behind his ear. Trip counted as a monster dog, a being with thoughts. Not that
normal dogs didn’t have thoughts, but monster dogs were capable of speech,
bipedal movement, even strategy. Would that mean he could wander the Void with
you without consequence?
You’d think on the matter later. It wasn’t as though you were about to be
thrown into the Void without reason.
===============================================================================
 
 
===============================================================================
You aren’t sure how much sleep you managed to get. It certainly didn’t feel
like enough. Trip was on your chest and lapping at your neck which was the
startling wake-up call you received at the wee hour of 6 in the morning. He was
just excited and awaited your rousing. You gave him a woefull look and snuggled
back beneath the covers. He only gave you an extra half hour before he was
patting your face with his paws. At one instant he even shoved his paw into
your snoring open mouth. You practically gagged and choked on the fuzzy
appendage. You yawned and accepted the new early morning routine. It seemed a
tad early for anyone else to be awake, so you let yourself sneak downstairs
with just shorts and the tank top. Trip was right on your ankles and likely
eager for food. You grab your bowl and ensure that his bowl is cleaned before
placing the remaining dog food into the bowl. He accepts the chow greedily as
you work on your personal bowl of cereal.
Topping off the Cheerios with milk you wander over towards the table. Sans is
face first into the wood and snoring. It reverberates the table all the way
into its legs. You stare blankly at him and help yourself to a quick spoon as
you sidle over to him. He still has his uniform on. Either he woke up early,
which didn’t seem possible, or he fell asleep here. Hadn’t work been cancelled
anyways because of attacks? You dug out your phone and pined through your
available contacts. You were fortunate that Muffet had snuck her number in so
you could send her a text regarding your schedule.
Rea        6:52                        Muffet, are things still closed down?
Does it change the work schedule? I have things I have to attend to today.
Tapping and sending out the message you hear Trip’s little pattering feet as
they quickly approach you. Setting your bowl of cereal down onto the table you
hoist up Trip and plant him onto the table before Sans’ skull. He began to then
eagerly lap at his skull as you picked your bowl back up and watched with
amusement. First he began making grumbling noises, then relinquished the cold
coffee to gently swat away Trip. When that didn’t work he managed to raise his
skull and peek an eye open. It only made things worse as Trip sought out his
socket and began licking the insides. He garbled and threw himself back into
the chair- gravity did the rest of the work for you as you continued to lean
and spectate against the table.
“wh-wha-when- huhhh-“He moaned in anguish as the sun hit his sockets. He left
himself splay out even with the likely uncomfortable arch of the chair digging
into his spine. It almost looked as though he was forfeiting on the morning and
going back to sleep. You use your toes and worm them between his fibula and
tibia. He lurched forward with a gasp and attempted to pull his leg back, but
your toes were already grazing the inside of the bone. It felt slightly sexual
and he surely had a blue blush staining his cheekbones as you just pondered at
the feeling against your foot.
“Did you have to work yesterday?” You ask and help yourself to another
spoonful. You atleast relinquish your foot from his bones to let him gather his
thoughts and realize his placement. He seemed dazed and weary- very sleep
deprived as well.
“wh’t’ime ‘s it?” He yawned and scrubbed at his eyes. His morning slurs seemed
even more intensive then his casual ones.
“Almost 7.” You reply as you check your phone.
Muffet  6:54                        Sure dearie!! Police handled the issue.
Seems they are increasing the patrols. If you have things to do we can just
have to for closing shift ;)
While Sans groans and grumbles while fixing the chair and reheating his coffee,
you send a message back to Muffet.
Rea        6:55                        Alright thanks! I’ll make sure to come
in as soon as I can.
Pocketing the phone and eating more cereal, you nearly forgot to take Trip off
the table. Hoisting him up he hastily lathers your face with kisses as you do
your best to ensure your mouth is closed before the onslaught. Setting him onto
the floor he races into the kitchen to likely pursue Sans as you use your arm
to wipe away the clinging saliva.
“why’r’ya up?” He grumbles as he leans drowsily against the archway of the
kitchen. He greedily sips his coffee and you can smell him brewing more. He
works on undoing his tie- you contemplate which job it was he had returned
from.
“Eh, when you get a paw in the mouth it’s kinda hard to not wake up with
repulsed taste buds…” You mutter and down the remaining milk in the bowl. It
manages to snag a smile on his exhausted face.
“eh, didn’ think tha’ ‘as pawsible.” He grumbled and chugged the remainder of
coffee before trotting off to grab more.
“Still cracking puns at seven in the morning?” You comment as you follow him to
clean your bowl. He gently poured himself another cup that steamed steadily.
“any minute is ful’ ‘a puntential.” He snapped his fingers your way as he
heartily drank. You leaned against the counter which allowed the cold to seep
through your shirt. You didn’t mind as you watched him. Trip was pawing at your
leg for desperate attention. You leant down to pat his head earnestly but
didn’t want to lose Sans. You had a question for him anyways.
“Hey, so, Papyrus doesn’t actually hate dogs, right?”
“nah. dogs jus’ like bones. it’s a love-hate relation, ya know?”
“Right…so, like, I got a question for ya…”
===============================================================================
 
 
===============================================================================
Sans let loose another lawn as you all gathered at the store. Undyne was being
calmed continuously by Alphys as she eagerly looked into the pet store. Papyrus
tried to keep his attention on the cashier as the bell rang. It was your first
time walking Trip, and he instantly wanted to zoom around and smell everything
he could reach the instant you walked inside.
“How do you take care of a dog, exactly?”
You were certain the blush was still staining your cheeks- he had such an
intensive laugh it woke up Papyrus from the next house over. Papyrus and Sans
seemed to understand the dog on a better level and while you didn’t doubt Frisk
would be able to give you information, you weren’t sure what was accurate. You
also couldn’t trust Papyrus seeing as how he fed a pet rock sprinkles and tried
to put glitter and confetti into his spaghetti. You know he meant well though.
“O-O-Ok-kay, u-um, we-we just need to g-g-get food, a b-bed, a bowl, so-some
toys, and a co-collar and leash.” Alphys had brought a list along with her as
Undyne took off for the animals. She had been gushing in the car about wanting
a giant dog. Poor Alphys had begun to pale, but now she was starch. Papyrus
seemed wary of aisles with other people and their dogs strolling around. You
struggled enough with keeping an eye on Trip – he just kept vanishing around
corners. Sans stuck with Papyrus as you wandered away. You chased Trip for
nearly a minute before snatching him up and setting him into a shopping cart.
He took up a better portion of the bottom half, so hopefully Undyne or Papyrus
didn’t mind too much about carrying the dog-food.
“heh heh, hey bro.” You can hear a few aisles over Sans talking. It’s been
about an hour so the majority of his slur is gone- casual slur it is.
“DO NOT ‘HEY BROTHER’ ME, SANS! IT ALWAYS RESULTS IN PUNS!”
“’ey bro, relax. i’s an important question. guard my soul.”
‘Guard my soul’? What is that the monster version of ‘Cross my heart’?
“FINE. WHAT IS IT BROTHER?” Papyrus almost sounds dejected.
“’eh, nothing. just wanted to know if you found this place ‘cause it’s so pup-
ular.”
Proceeding the corny joke you hear something fall from the shelves and a
clattering of bone. The echoing sound mingles with Sans’ deep laughter.
“THAT’S IT. I’M LEAVING.”
“aw paps, don’t be too mad! i’m just trying to throw ya a bone!” There is a
disruptive squeaking. Its probably a bone dog toy. You wanted to get it so
badly, but you are certain the puns for Papyrus would never cease. Sparing
Papyrus this time around didn’t seem to be a terrible idea. You caught the
skeleton making a break for the other side of the store.
“Hey, Papyrus?” You gently call and coax him into the aisle. He wears a wide
scowl and even his cheekbones seem to be puffing out like a child with a
tantrum. You place a hand on his shoulder blade when he comes to your cart.
“Don’t let him bother you. I really appreciate you coming to help me out. I
don’t know anythingabout dogs. You’re doing me a big favor by coming and I just
wanted to say thanks.” You sweetly reply. It works its wonders as he
straightens up almost professionally and grows a smile.
“BUT OF COURSE, REA!! ANYTHING FOR A FRIEND! EVEN IF IT MEANS COMING TO THIS
SLOBBERING TRAP OF FUR.” Papyrus swiftly mentions the last bit and works on
scouring the shelves as you achingly slowly go down the hall.
“So, why do you hate dogs?”
“NYEH…I SUPPOSE IT ISN’T SO MUCH HATRED AS IT IS AVERSION.” He idly rubs his
ulna absently as he looks into the collars and leashes. Trip doesn’t seem
affected by the aisle subject at least. “OOH! HOW ABOUT THIS ONE?” Papyrus
offers you a bejeweled collar with spikes flaring outwards. It almost blinds
you with the sheen and glimmer as it hits the lighting just right to reflect.
“Uh, maybe not that one.” You wince and shield your eyes. Papyrus gives you a
questioning look, but he shrugs it off and replaces the collar.
“IM SURPRISED THOUGH! HAVE YOU ALREADY BEEN PAID BY MUFFET?”
“She gave me cash in advance through the mail. While I really want to question
how and why, it should hopefully be enough for everything.” You sigh and check
the money. In actuality, you probably didn’t have enough and likely would take
out a few toys. You’d checked your personal inventory; Baysoph took all the
cash you’d found and/or worked to receive. The entire way to the pet store you
were calculating the probable prices. You only had a few days of work thus far
so you didn’t have much to work with in the first place. You weren’t about to
go back to HQ and protest about the lack of funds either given the recent
issue.
“THIS ONE?” Papyrus offered another collar. It had orange and blue stripes with
a metal diamond for the information. It was colorful and sweet, and the price
wasn’t bad either. You grasped it and felt the unique leather. Trip began to
yip and wag his tail affectionately as you set it in the bottom of the cart
with him.
“Guess that one will do.” You sigh thankfully. Papyrus strikes a proud pose as
you just grab a generic black leash. It was the cheapest you could buy. Turning
back to Papyrus to signal you moving on, he has his eyes set and staring at you
quizzically. “Papyrus, what’s wrong?
“YOU SAY YOU ARE OVER 100 YEARS OLD, CORRECT?”
You blink and ponder regarding the question. It seemed rather on the spot.
“Well, yes. Why?”
“YOU HAVE NOT HAD A PET IN THAT TIME?” You sigh and rub your neck as you round
the aisle.
“Well no I kinda did. Sorta. Maybe?”
“HOW ARE YOU UNCERTAIN OF AN ANIMAL COMPANION?”
“Well before they vanished, one of my favorite people at the HQ gave me this
pet parrot. But I had responsibilities. I was usually not there, so I couldn’t
take care of the parrot. I wish I had though. Mirage took care of it and they
eventually forgot I was even their original owner. I wanted to take them with
me, but losing them in the Void was worse than leaving them behind.” You reply
to Papyrus as you rub Trips chest. He flops onto the metal to let you have
clearer access to his stomach.
“I don’t plan to make the same mistake. Trip has a mind of his own and I don’t
doubt he is intellectual enough to survive in the Void. I just need to figure
out transport.”
Off on the side you see Alphys doing her best to divert Undyne from the
adoption area. She keeps looking into the big breeds with an almost salivating
look in her eye. Papyrus sticks by your side and avoids the puppy display. You
pass the toy aisle where Sans has a squeaky bone in each grip and is squeaking
them with a closed eye contentment. You contain a snicker as Papyrus drops his
head into his gloves. You find yourself lost in the clothes aisle with Papyrus
eye’s the shelves.
“WHAT ABOUT THIS?” Papyrus holds up a carry on carrier for Trip. He whines and
hides beneath the usual baby-seat of the cart. You smile and gesture to the
leash.
“I think with this traversing the Void will be no trouble.” You admit. You
won’t admit to Papyrus you snuck a peek at the price. He wandered down and
towards the ferrets as you tried to control your shock.
50 dollars to carry a dog?! Does that even include tax?
Freezing you feel your eyes bulge as you look back into the cart. Dread
overwhelms you as you let your head fall onto one of the shelves.
“I forgot to count for the taxation…” You whimper and grasp your head. You
mentally delete your hours of work and try to implement the tax pricing – you
already had to likely cut back on toys and food. Food was necessary and Trip
was your direct responsibility; hand-outs were not an option! You at the least
had enough pride to hold onto that.
Knowing it would take a while to calculate the pricing you try to find a spot
to relax and clear your head. A group of cat cries draws your attention as you
find a solitary room. It appears that its where the adoptable cats reside. Most
of the cages are open as you cautiously enter. Little kittens begin to skitter
and stumble across the floor and in your direction. You ensure that Trip will
remain in the cart and bring him inside too to be put on the side. There is a
lump of blue being absolutely swarmed in more older cats and a few stray
kittens. They seem satisfied as the lump slowly rises with air. The only
indicator of who it is are the peeking metacarpals of his hands.
“Do you always do this?”
“gonna need ta be a tad more specific.”
“Let cats pin you down?” You snicker and pick an actual available seat. Kittens
try to clumsily jump into your lap. Your nearly melt from the adorable display
and concede to sitting on the ground. The quickly scurry into your lap and paw
at your shirt. You can feel one digging their miniature claws into your back
and scaling you.
“ah, see, they overwhelmed me. it’s pawsible that I am trapped here.”
“Welp I’ll let Papyrus know.”
“hey meow.” It earns a snicker from you as a kitten makes their way to your
shoulder. It cries in your ear and nibbles on your hair. You’ve got one
playfully on their back as your rub at their belly. They nip at your fingers as
the others begin to form a puddle in your lap.
“Didn’t take you for a cat person though.” You admit as you gently grasp and
hoist a sleeping one onto your other shoulder. It isn’t roused.
“they ain’t as keen to bite bones and we got so much in common.” He finally
peels back the hood and strokes the cats gently.
“I know you can sleep like a cat, but you are definitelynot as clean as a cat.
You just leave ketchup packets in your pockets from what I hear and your room
has a tornado. Papyrus told me.” You roll the playful kittens over as they
grasp and bite your wrist.
“You both have this sort of uncaring aura too.”
You can feel the air go rigid and cold. Even a few of the cats scatter away
from Sans. He manages to drag his upper torso off the ground at the least and
lets the cats nestle around his sitting form. You bite your lip; was it
something you said or did he remember something?
“You must….haaaheheee…..be Gasters boy.”
You take a needy gulp as your throat dries. You barely manage to stop yourself
before you begin the urge to twiddle your hair. It was a question that had been
on the back burner of your mind, and it just kept getting scorched darker. You
were desperate for answers.
“Sans. Shoot me down now and don’t ever bother to talk to me again if this
question is totally out of line, but………how did your father go missing?” Your
last words are rushed and cracked as you instantly regret them. The air hangs
still and the majority of the kittens cries cease.
“it’s called ‘The Day Of Confused Tears’.” He murmurs and idly pets the cats.
His sockets nearly appear blank as his eyelids droop with exhaustion.
“almost nobody remembers him. only the Royals, Alph, and Paps have vague
distorted memories. nothing concrete – not even a face. even I don’t remember
much besides being there the day it happened.” You cautiously scoot closer even
with the puddle of kittens nestled into your lap.
“But what happened?” You pry.
“nobody knows. it’s all speculation honestly. ‘ll’s I remember is somethin’
goin’ down in the lab, and the next moment……just, nothing. me and Paps were
young, but I was a lab assistant back then working with Alph. Paps came by to
visit. something disturbed the CORE. everyone was screaming and ushering a
locational evacuation……….and then it was fine.” You can hear his bones
clattering as he knots his hands together. His clenching grip looks painful as
he lets his head hang.
“I don’t remember what happened. I don’t even remember his face.” He mutters
practically to himself. You are a few feet away from him as you nestle in. It
was most certainly a touchy subject and you had a gut wrenching feel twist in
your heart. You sighed and grabbed a cat before plopping it onto his head. He
didn’t move at all and the cat was quick to take on a lazy demeanor just strewn
out on the top of his skull.
“…….Gunnar.” You say. Carefully to not disturb the kittens resting about your
shoulders, you reach for your phone. It had the only picture left of him – one
that you’d forced Mirage to pluck directly from your memories and dreams. You
would never let it go.
“I remember everything that happened to him ; even his face, his voice, his
abilities step by step; everything.” You hand him the phone. Gunnar appeared to
be in his early 40’s and always had that father-esque feel to him. He had a
shaggy beard and thin sideburns that lead up into this complete jagged mop. He
almost looked like an anime character with the amount of hair-gel he used to
put into it.
“He was previously in charge of doing the sealing work. Traversing the Void,
sealing the Underground and the other locations. Me and Mirage were often the
healers – one day Gunnar needed assistance from Zebb, but it wasn’t enough. He
was terribly injured, so Mirage and I tried flowing through the Void…” You
manage to unhook one of the cats that was trying to reach your armpit before
you accidentally would squish their tiny head. You can see the expression
vaguely changing on Sans’ face.
“Neither of us were very good at movement yet, so it was difficult, especially
with two of us. We finally reached the world they were post-poned in, but the
beast was instantly aware of us. Trying to keep her safe, I threw us both back
into the Void. We were separated and left to drift apart…….I don’t know how
long I drifted – I saw nothing around me, and my voice was lost in the blank
space.” The one you’d plucked from your armpit you cuddle against your breast
where it relaxes to the beating of your soul.
“Then I felt coldness and an ethereal grab. I turned and saw the Tear. It’s
black. Darkness and shadow that shouldn’t exist. It just….eats. It eats and
nothing ever comes out of it. It practically had this gravitational pull to it,
and I was stuck in that. I screamed and cried as a slowly drifted towards it –
my magic began to fail me. It was a terrifying thought of existence – the Void
may be nothing, but the Tear was the brink beyond nothing.” You shudder at the
shadowed memory. You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, but refuse to
falter with your voice. It was his story.
“And then he came. He was bleeding profusely and crying out to me. I couldn’t
hear anything he’d said – my head was already being consumed. I could feel
Gunnars and Baysophs magic tingling which isn’t a common thing to feel in the
Void. It took everything they had, but it wasn’t enough. Those subjugated to
the Tear were told to be lost forever upon contact…..But Gunnar didn’t give up
on me. I felt him grab my leg and then my waist. Then Baysoph grabbed my leg
before Gunnar threw himself into the Tear. The force of his entrance gave
enough of a gap to pull me free. But…” You let a tear or two slide down your
cheeks. It startles the kittens it plops onto, but they are quick to settle
down once again.
“I’ll never forget his face. He was smiling all toothy and goofy as he reached
out with a thumbs up. He said something that I couldn’t hear. There was blood
running out his nose. He wasn’t even a foot away from me and he began to
dissipate and disperse into the blackness. It only took seconds for him to
vanish from my sight forever…” Placing the cat down, you cautiously plant a
hand on his that are still entwined together.
“What I am trying to say is, I guess……Just- appreciate the memories. Even if
they are scattered. Even if you don’t remember their face. Because you know his
name. You know who he was to you. You remember him. That alone defies so many
odds. The bond’s made are the one thing that keeps them with us, so we can
never give that up. The minute we forget them, they truly die.” You whisper and
pat his hand. He finally looks to you, but he almost seems stunned. You can
feel yourself smile at the absurdity of Sans of all people being stunned for
words.
“Isn’t that great? To remember someone even after all this time?” You finalize
and disturb the kitten puddle. A few desperately claw at you to keep you there
while others return to Sans. Some even waddle into their own corners to play or
nap. Trip began to wag his tail excitedly as you rejoined him at the cart. The
cats had muddled your hair as you swish it back and try to make it neat again.
Turning back, Sans has this almost light glow to him, his eyes are miniscule
stars and you can actually see his mouth. He is straight up jaw dropping right
now. His cheeks are almost puffy with a bright blue smudged over his bones.
“Sans? You okay?” You ask over your shoulder as you turn to give him your
attention. He straightens up momentarily in an instant of clarity.
“Huh, uh….y-yeah.” He coughs and clears his throat rather abruptly. You tilt
your head slightly and consider one final question.
“If Frisk wasn’t at risk…would you have sent me to go get your father? Whether
or not you knew the consequences.” You fold your arms beside the door as Sans
looks at you. Finally looks at you. His eyes droop back into this normal
disappointment stare and his smile doesn’t yet return.
“no. I woulda gone-“
“Don’t give me that ‘I’d go in your place’ bullshit.” You cut him off and stun
him again. You can feel your soul beating angrily. Why was he sporting this
‘this is my responsibility even though it isn’t’ attitude?!
“Think of Papyrus, of Frisk, of everyone, and then tell yourself you can still
go through with it. Sans, at best, one of you returns. And that is a roughly
five percent alone. It’s clear your father was a good man, and that he
protected you. You think he’d want you to go into harms way that he’d bothered
to keep you out of? Gunnar may not have been my father, and I may not have
known him well enough to even call him a good friend, but I at least know he
would never want me to wind up in that place. He gave his life to keep me out
of there. Consider what your father would have wanted, consider your family,
and you can maybe get something out of me.” You puff and snatch the shopping
cart. You’d gone from an excellent speech to being huffy.
Don’t go playing Mister Goody Two Shoes! You aren’t even thinking your shit
through! Didn’t even answer my question properly-
“Hey, hey, what the hell is that?”
“Ugh they know about this store?! I might be sick…”
You freeze your internal rage to glance down an aisle, a few women and a man
have gathered and are gossiping. Peering past them you spy Undyne almost
pleading with Alphys to get a puppy as Alphys beggingly wrestles to move
Undyne. Undyne gives in at last to Alphys’ demands only in comply to a smooch
on the cheek. Alphys is red and steam emits from her scales as Undyne hoists a
dog food bag and wanders back around the store. You’d need to stop her before
she reached the checkout – you needed someone to carry it, not buy it.
“Uuuggh, lookit that!” One lady whispers harshly. Papyrus comes into view with
a wide variety of little boots for Trip. He is giddily looking at the snakes
and spiders as he squats close to the ground to see the lower tanks.
“Heh – guess even the dead are coming back.” The man mutters with a cheeky
grin.
“Geh, you think it’s true? What if the human souls or whatever they took they
also used their bodies to make some twisted freaks?” Another woman disgustedly
interjects.
“How horrendous.”
“Hold up – I’ll lie to the clerks that he’s trying to steal. That’ll keep ‘em
away from here for good.” The man nods to the grouped women. Your blood begins
to boil and you hear Trip yip a few times. Your magic just instinctively surges
forward. How unfortunate they were in the jars and cans. Tons of the food
filled containers just explode from an internal pressurized force. They
splatter all across the group that scream and flail suddenly. Most of the woman
are groaning, one even stomps away to blame the manager. You control your eye
and leisurely stroll past the remnants while artfully avoiding any splotches.
The man stands up after trying to just dust the canned food off and stumbles
into you. He turns and his scowl transforms.
“I’m sorry ma’am. Didn’t mean to hit ya there.” He offers you a napkin. You
give him a flat handed deny in the silence.
“Hey, uh, listen, I haven’t seen you around here before. New to the area?” Even
with canned food exploded all over his shirt and parts of his face, he does
this strange suave lean on the shelving unit. You can feel the disgust forming
behind your face, but you won’t let it show. You know he is speaking to you but
you’re too busy confirming the loud pitched voice and baritone chuckles behind
you – Sans finally escaped the cat puddle.
“So maybe after a few rounds of dog walking I could interest you in dinner?”
The minute you let yourself become aware again he offers a snazzy wink. You
don’t hide the wince from your face.
“No.” You straight out deny him and return to guiding your cart down the aisle.
“Oh and you missed a spot on your cheek, Mr. Flirt.” You wave him off as you
exit. Your hand is grabbed and your attention dragged backwards as he pulls you
over. He stands rather tall and it hurts the still sensitive nerves.
“Can’t you at least look me in the eye? I haven’t even introduced myself yet- I
realize this isn’t the best of situations, but appreciate a guy for trying!” He
growls back at you.
“Can’t you at least take a hint that I will not now or ever be interested?” You
grumble back. His grip on your hand tightens.
“All’s I did was ask you out on a date!” He argues back almost like a
temperamental child. Though you weren’t any better by exploding canned food
onto them, that was direct unbridled emotional energy.
“And I told you no.” You try to calmly retrieve back your hand, but his grip
strengthens. At this point he has you on your tippy toes. Mentally cursing your
stunted growth you decide to no longer hide your distaste for the situation.
“Touchy little-“ “REA!! ARE YOU FINISHED WITH YOUR SHOPPING SPREE?” You wince
and watch the man upturn his head. Of course Papyrus saw me, you sigh and try
to free your hand before causing him concern. Of course this Neanderthalpulls
you closer as he grits his teeth.
“Hey, ya freak, back off.” He warns as you’re pulled closer to his gut. You’d
step on his toes if you were even properly touching the floor.
“REA, YOU KNOW THIS HUMAN? AH! YOU HAVE SOMETHING ON YOUR FACE!! FEAR NOT,
HUMAN FRIEND OF REA – I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE SOME TISSUES IN MY POCKET-“
Papyrus squeaks with joy and just suddenly goes silent. “SANS!! WHY DOES MY
BATTLE BODY NOT HAVE POCKETS!?” He calls with alarm.
“I shoulda sewn this coming.”
“THAT WASN’T EVEN A PROPER PUN!!!” Looking up the man’s face is going pale as
he backs up with you being dragged along. The woman beyond him are murmuring
and gasping. That tension is boiling up again.
“Fucking mon-“ You don’t let his sentence finish as you push off as much as you
can with your toes and slap him fiercely with your free hand. It stuns him
enough to release you and you are quick to push him back. He stumbles and slips
in the canned food. You don’t hesitate to walk forward, stand above him, and
grasp his shirt. You can feel your eye spinning and increasing its speed as you
look down on him. You can feel the women backing away and his face has gone
pale.
“Don’t you dare curse in front of Papyrus.” You warn quietly and drop him. He
skitters back, but never loses your eye to eye contact.
“I don’t date liars, so head to a washroom and find some soap for your filthy
mouth. It’s worse than a smokers.” You can practically identify the spitting
venom in your voice as you turn on your heel, pout aggressively, snag Papyrus’
confused arm and shopping cart. You drag him quickly away from the scene as
staff begin to flow towards the aisle and clean up.
“REA? WHY DID YOU ATTACK THAT HUMAN? WAS HE NOT YOUR FRIEND?” Papyrus earnestly
asks. You turn to him and instantly take the little footwear from his grasp to
place on a random shelf. You couldn’t wait any longer – Alphys and Undyne would
likely try to buy the pet food so you’d need to wait at the exit to prevent it.
It would also be safer to prevent Sans and Papyrus (namely Papyrus) from
grabbing anything else to attempt and add to your shopping cart. You knew you
were pushing the budget with the little you did have in the cart.
 “Papyrus, that man wasn’t my friend. He was just a stranger who decided to hit
on me. I hate those types of guys….” You surely weren’t about to mention he was
about to lie to an employee to throw Papyrus out. You sigh and just work on
locating the cashier.
You find the checkout counter. Sans and Papyrus are discussing something behind
you and you don’t spot Undyne or Alphys anywhere. The cashier seems greatly
intimidated by Papytus at least as you catch her shifty eyes. You sigh and open
the envelope encasing your first pay. You almost blushed at the thought.
I’m over 100 and I have never had a paying job…
Pulling out the cash, a reality dawns on you.
You definitely don’t have enough for it all.
“Um, ma’am, I’m sorry but can I take these two things off?” You point to two of
the toys Papyrus had insisted on. She jolts to attention after staring at
Papyrus too long and sets them to the side. You can hear Trip whine in the cart
and you offer him the best sympathetic look you can – you’re still about
several dollars short. And the order didn’t even include the dog food. You
decide to forfeit up the leash and collar – you could just carry Trip through
the Void yourself to an open space. Push comes to shove and he ran you’d just
grab his soul. You didn’t want to, but there was little choice.
“Why ya puttin’ that to the side?” Your spine goes rigid as you freeze from
placing the collar in the return area. Undyne stands beside you with a
secondfood bag – one is slung over each shoulder and she is looking at you
expectantly.
“Uh, Undyne…I only need one bag.” You try to play off her question and fight
the urge to shift your eyes guiltily. You watch her eye snap from your face to
the discarded items, and finally the cashier. She spins around to the rest of
the group and hands the bags off to Papyrus. Your midsection is grabbed and
you’re hastily flipped around on the spot. She keeps her grip on your waist,
but your head dangles close to the floor.
“Wa—WHA-WAIT!” You shriek in realization as she begins to walk towards the
door.
“Babe – can you handle the bill please?” Undyne calls back as you desperately
try to gently kick free from her grasp. It would be terrible to cause more of a
scene than you already have, especially in regards to attacking monsters.
“Su-sure thing!”
 “ALPHYS IF YOU COVER THAT PAYMENT I WILL PUT YOU IN AN EIGHT LAYERED BARRIER
BUBBLE!!” You call aggressively and you can almost see her flinch.
“Yeah yeah sure ya will.” Undyne grunts as she kicks the door open. You flail
and try to grab the closing door, but it’s far too late and out of reach. You
groan and shriek with more failed attempts to pry yourself from her grip.
“I am NOT letting you guys pay for this!!” You insist.
“Sheesh, calm down! You can just pay us back later.” Undyne sighs and grabs you
by each ankle. She raises you higher. You are very aware of the parking lot
getting an entire view of you just dangling about, but you cannot fight back
now. It would be a public display of assault.
“I hate being indebted!” You growl and sigh. The blood is rushing to your head.
Your face feels heavy and painful from the flow.
“Welp get used to it!!” Undyne cackles and returns to holding your hip. You
dangle miserably and groan as the pressure begins to settle in your cheeks and
forehead.
“Undyne, please put me down.” You finally plead after a minute.
“Like hell I am! You’ll just rush back in there.”
“Then just turn me upright.” You groan and try to press into your cheeks. It
offers no comfort in retrospect.
“…Your bra is showing.” You don’t reply and quickly snag your shirt and press
it into your stomach. You’d completely forgotten about that aspect. Every
breath left you with sickened air. The urge to vomit was boiling up and you
were becoming light headed severely.
“Undddddn-“ You slur the word as you try to stay conscious. Your breathing is
labored and you can feel your lungs being pressurized.
“Und-Undyne, wh-what are you doing?” You hear Alphys and try to keep your focus
forward.
“Oh, you got the receipt?” Undyne asks, completely ignoring your whines. Alphys
nods and shows Undyne the small slip. You try to peer with the suns glare at
the pricing. Undyne just shoves it into her mouth. You throw your right leg
around her neck and use your remaining upper body strength to hoist yourself
halfway upwards. It’s enough to close the distance as you grasp her cheeks.
“YOU GIVE ME THAT RECEIPT RIGHT THE HELL NOW!!!” You screech. The sudden switch
in blood flow throws you for a loop and the majority of your strength is
drained within seconds. It leaves you falling back into dangling just mere
moments later as you listen to Undyne crunch and chew on the paper.
“H-Honey. I don’t th-think that is edible.”
“Eh. I’ll worry ‘bout it later.” Papyrus stands before you with both the dog
food bags and squats until his sockets are level with your own.
“YOU ARE QUITE RED IN THE FACE! IS THAT A MAGE ABILITY?”
“Help please.” You plead and focus on breathing and keeping your eyes open. If
she gave you a brain hemorrhage or burst vessel, damn the public – you’d sock
her straight in the only eye she had left. Papyrus sets the food to the side
and makes a clinging gesture towards you. Undyne concedes to his child-like
request. You’d forgotten to warn him ahead of time of your sickly moment as he
takes no time to flip you completely around and set you on the ground. You
aren’t standing a solid five seconds before your legs give out like jelly
letting you collapse towards the building. Your brain feels heavy and aches
terribly. Someone manages to snag your arm and pull you into them but all of
your senses are entirely slurred.
“Imma be sick…”  You murmur as their voices meld in the background. Your knees
find purchase on the ground and you just lean your head against the wall. You
keep your attention glued to the closed back of your eyelids and slowing your
breath. Quick little laps from a rough tongue begin to assault your chin and
neck – must be Trip.
“c’mon, now ain’t the time for lapping.” Just from the sound of Sans’ voice you
know he just muttered a pun; instinctively, you groan. Something cool is
pressed to your head which finally manages to force your eyes open. Sans is
applying a wet toweled to your head. Alphys is beside him too scanning her
phone diligently. Very vaguely you can hear Undyne shouting something at
Papyrus.
“feelin’ better?”
“If I vomit, I hope it’s on you.” You warn preemptively and feel a heave come
up. You aren’t entirely sure who it is rubbing your back, but you assume its
Sans consider the hand is small and Alphys is clutching her phone.
“Uh-Um-UH- d-do-do you f-f-f-feel li-like it was-was-w-was a br-brain he-hemm-
hemm-or-o-orage?! O-Or a b-burst v-v-ve-vein?!” Her voice is filled with terror
and you can notice the paling skin. You try to reach out and soothe her as she
hastily uptakes your hand. Her claw presses into your vein – was she looking
for your heart beat?
“I’m…fine. Ain’t good at……upside down time. Blood rushed my hea- uuggh.”
Another heave overwhelms your words as you rest against the wall.
“take ‘t easy. ya need a doc?” Sans asks and you shake your head against the
brick. It isn’t the most pleasant feeling, but its better then the heavy weight
and sickening spinning.
“N-No, ‘m ffiiinneeee…” You mumble and wave off his concerns, though you know
you are slipping closer to the concrete.
“Who paid? How much?” You manage a light glare on the side, but Sans is just
smiling like a smug idiot as almost always. Trip begins to yip at you – you
notice the collar is nicely snug around his neck. You sigh and reach with your
free hand to pat his head.
The rest remains a blur. You know Papyrus lifts and places you into the car
based on the gloved feeling running over your skin. Everyone continues to fuss
over you all the way home. Undyne even offered an apology. It struck everyone
but Papyrus by surprise when she uttered a actual ‘Sorry’.
By the time you all arrive home, you at least can walk – while its janky and
stumbling, it’s walking. You spend most of your time setting up the little
things and ensuring some toys were left in the main part of the house; Frisk
had apparently found a nice little bin to hold the toys. The rest are left
upstairs with you. Any nagging attempts directed at Undyne or the others
results in dodging the question or refusal. Each try at Papyrus just ends up
with Sans butting in or, at worst, him just teleporting him away. Once dinner
rolls around, you give up. You only give up because Asgore mentions something
about it.
Now you roll around in bed with Trip. He didn’t approve of the little dog bed,
so Frisk had proclaimed it for downstairs. It was now 3 in the morning and he
was whining and jumping from the mattress repeatedly. You sigh and try to
recall everything Papyrus and Sans had told you about dogs. You grab the leash
and a baggie – maybe he needed the bathroom? You hoist yourself from the
mattress and sigh with exhaustion. You grab your phone incase this is a lengthy
trip. It lights up and shows messages within.
Muffet 8:52        The store should be open again by tomorrow!! Hope to see you
in about noon time~
You manage a smile as you open the bedroom door. Trip is quick to begin his
descent of the stairs. You follow close behind, contemplating sending her a
text now. You choose against it – if she was a light sleeper, you didn’t want
to be responsible for keeping her up. Trip rushes to the front door when you
finally make it downstairs and starts yipping quickly. It’s deeper, almost like
a bark. You yawn and work on getting the clip of the leash around the one on
his collar.
And then he growls. Cautiously, you press your ear to the door. Breathing
deeply to still your heart, you focus your attention to your hearing. Tires.
You hear tires achingly slowly rolling down the street. Peeking at the
curtained window, there are no lights. You can only guess who is strolling down
the road at such an ungodly hour. Air. Not the wind though- like a sucking of
air. Focusing on the peculiar out-of-place sound you recognize it on the next
heartbeat. The Void.
Throwing the door open, you rush out. Trip starts barking and gritting his
teeth as he rushes out alongside you. The car bails and leaves a cloud of smoke
from the exhaust – it blinds the view of their license plate. You don’t pursue
– maintaining a glare until they are completely gone. Trip continues to pull on
the leash, guiding you onto the sidewalk. He sniffs on the ground and begins to
growl. Leaning down to prevent him from eating something like a cigarette butt,
you find something most peculiar.
Blue strands. They almost look like string. You snag a piece between your
fingers – its laced magic. It disintegrates quickly in your touch. If there was
more, you definitely could learn to harness and manipulate it. It almost seems
elastic and stretchable. The last bit that vanishes in your hands gives you an
inkling to the magic user. You’d felt it before.
But since when did Sans manage to manifest his magic like this?
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for stopping by <3
     Please leave your comments below <3
     I really appreciate criticism as well!!
***** Time For A Internal Adventure *****
Chapter Summary
     Rea delves too deeply.
Chapter Notes
     flails around dead
      
     UUGGGGGHHHHH
     This was so hard to write T__T
     I realize it probably ain't paced for shiet, but I refuse to delay it
     any longer BP
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Your hand felt at your palm, recalling the buzzing energy you vaguely knew.
That was definitely Sans’ magic, but you’d never seen him produce something so
refined and string-like. You recall being startled out of your sleep; it was
Trip nibbling on your toes and heels. He whined as you took notice of the
coarse tears trailing your cheeks. Trip didn’t let up the lapping as you
scrubbed the tears away. It tickles as you draw your feet safely underneath
your covers. He didn’t skip a beat to pad atop your concealed form and go right
for your face. You caught him fortunately and placed him back onto the floor.
Reaching out and up you pop your arms and groan with relief and anguish.
Muffets store should be open again…
You sigh and swing yourself around the mattress. Trip gets a few licks in at
your ankles as you pad over and into the bathroom. It was considerably less
pink, but you knew it needed another few scrubs before you finally reached the
ivory walls and colorful tiled floor beneath it. You jump into the tub and take
a quick shower. The warm water cascading over each scar and singed bit of skin
you still retained soothes the memories.
Wrapping the towel around your hair, you rapidly rub it and throw it out of
your face. It makes a slap against your still damp back as you pat your face
dry. Staring into the mirror, you let your power drain; eyes becoming a hazel
yellow, brunette hair cascading drenched over your shoulders. Taking a deep
breath and steadying yourself against the sink, your eyes spot the scarred skin
adorning your legs. Dragging your gaze back to the mirror, you ponder. Had you
dreamt of the past? It wasn’t unheard of – you didn’t talk much about him
anymore. Gunnar.
A presence drew near as your eye freely flared and you spin towards the window.
Nothing but the next house and the few afterwards come into view. Cautiously,
you sidle against the window before drawing the curtain quick. The gaze you
felt burrow in your back was intentional and full of hate; seething and black.
You recall the car that was cruising through the neighborhood last night, a
shiver of anger rolling through your nerves. How had they even gotten into the
community unseen? Last time you checked there were almost twelve security
cameras around the entrance alone. Perhaps wherever they connected to they were
already looking into the matter.
Trip comes bouncing around your legs as you spin to reach your dresser. Finding
your uniform and laying it out to air on your bed, you return to the bathroom
to blow dry your hair. You were fortunate to have quick drying hair as you slip
the towel back onto its hook and pull up a pair of stockings. Clasping your bra
and dragging it about, you can’t help sighing. So many things raced through
your mind that you’d completely forgotten all the codes for work. Muffet
probably thought you were an ignoramus.
“REA! ARE YOU FEELING BETTER TODAY?”
Both you and Papyrus are frozen as you clutch onto your uniform. His face
proceeds to tinge orange until his entire skull is vibrant like the sun. His
face tightens, cheeks puffing, and his sockets avert their stare as he
cautiously backs out of the room. Your mind doesn’t even know how to process
any of what’s happening. After the door is closed, he raps against it.
“MIGHT I COME IN AND APOLOGIZE FOR COMING IN?” You sigh and press your palm to
your forehead.
“Ju-Just gimme a sec, okay Papyrus?” You reply and hastily slip into your
uniform, your head popping out the tight collar. “Alright, you can come in
Papyrus.” You call as you free your hair from the outfit. He opens it quick and
precisely, steps in and clears his throat.
“FORGIVE ME FOR NOT KNOCKING TO BEGIN WITH. BREAKFAST IS READY!” Papyrus
cheerfully remarks. Then he lets loose a hysterical gasp that is just a breath
from a screech. His eyes have bugged out and become bulbous; his leg lifts to a
perfect ninety degree angle to show Trip biting on to Papyrus’ exposed bone.
His teeth grate together before he violently shakes his leg.
“YOU RUDE MONGREL!!! HOW MANY TIMES MUST YOU MUNCH ON MY PRISTINE BONES?!
RELEASE ME FROM YOUR SLOBBERING JAWS!!” Papyrus shouts and flails his legs
harder. At this point he is throwing the fluff ball around so much it’s a white
and red blur. You giggle behind your hand and walk over. Papyrus has tears
welling under his bulging eyes as he gives in to the biting. You take one hand
beneath Trips fluffy form while the other pries his mouth away from Papyrus’
bone. Once freed, he just pants in your arms contently. Papyrus has slobber
dripping down his leg- he gives a shiver once it reaches his boot.
“I MUST GO WASH MYSELF. THANK YOU FOR YOUR ASSISTANCE.” Papyrus mumbles and
slinks downstairs. His one boot makes a squish each step as you wince at the
thought. Shutting the door you plop Trip onto the ground. You lagging behind
gives time for Papyrus to get away, and for you to get your own boots on. Hair
brushed and outfit on, you make your way downstairs.
It was bustling downstairs with dishes being made and washed. Frisk rushed past
you with their backpack, Flowey stuffed inside and still sound asleep in his
pot. Frisk nodded and rushed out the front door.
“Ah, Frisk! Your lunch!” Toriel calls from behind you. Frisk spins on their
heel and rushes back inside as their backpack bobs around. Toriel hands them a
lunch pail, pecks Frisks forehead and nudges them off. It’s tender, and you
can’t help but feel a yearning twitch of your heart.
“You’re not taking Frisk to school?” You ask while walking into the kitchen.
“Unfortunately, an official matter is taking place at the Mayors estate that we
must attend. I hate to trouble you, but would it be possible to pick up Frisk?
We won’t be back until later tonight.” She sighs and set a plate to the side
for drying.
“What, is everyone going?”
“The only ones who don’t need to attend are Papyrus and Alphys, but it is
better to come then to explain everything. That and Undyne was very defensive
about them attending.” Asgore chimes in and sets a miniature stack of plates
and bowls into the sink. Toriel gives him a stern glare as you notice the
already drying utensils and such.
“Toriel, don’t worry. I’ll clean them when I get home. I’m just going to eat
anyway so let ‘em soak.” You shrug and grab a bowl.
“Oh, you weren’t called in early today?” Asgore asks and puts milk back into
the kitchen. You freeze before taking the cereal box.
“…….What time is it?”
“Um, nearly 8:20.” Toriel replies. I slam the bowl down onto the table and snag
a granola bar from one of the nearby boxes. You were supposed to be there at 8:
30, so shoving the granola into your mouth you dash out the back door.
“Uh- Rea? What about lunch?” Toriel calls behind you as a rift opens ahead.
“I’w et wuter!!” You’re positive she didn’t understand anything with you
shoving the entire granola into your mouth. It takes a mere minute, but you
needed to help with opening, so arriving early was best. You pop out the Void
at the back entrance, finish chewing, and rush in. The spiders are bustling;
they would lower unfinished icing, lay intricate designs across them, and then
set them onto a tray. Your job was to put the trays out on display. You snatch
two on the way towards the front while still swallowing the remnants of the
granola. It takes about three minutes to have the majority of the trays out
before Muffet finally arrives on the scene. She reminds you vaguely of Mettaton
in the morning- she proudly walks the store with a strut and shows off that she
can carry triple the trays you can. You don’t mind because everyone has their
strengths.
“Oh dearie, thank you for coming in so early!” Muffet giggles and pats my
shoulders while shaking my hand. You’re not sure it’s a sensation you will ever
become used to, but you smile regardless.
“No problem Muffet. I needed the hours anyway.” You wave back to her as you set
up the ‘OPEN’ sign. She is filling into the nearby fridge a slew of spider
ciders and web parfaits. At least her ideas were expanding from simple
pastries.
Of course, it’s slow. Maybe a brief rush around breakfast, but nothing until
much later – about lunch time. You requested to Muffet let some of the spiders
take a break from cleaning and you can manage the front. You are certain one of
her eyes glistened with a tear, but didn’t press on the matter. While scrubbing
down the tables, Muffet wanders into the main dining area. Before you can even
speak, she turns on the tiny television in the corner – a rare sight
considering she usually only used it for herself.
“What’s up?” “Ssshhhh dearie. There was a break in yesterday at a Whimsalots
home. Asgore was going to speak to the Mayor and counsel.” Muffet waved you off
and flipped through the channels ‘til she reached the news.
“Mr. Dreemurr, what are your thoughts on increased security around the New New
Home perimeter?!” “Were there any casualties?” “Will you be relying on your
‘Royal Guards’, or are you ready to insist for human help?!” “What are your
thoughts on the current security if this incident has occurred so close to
home?” “Who will take the fall for this atrocity?!”
The outrageous number of people swarming the Mayors estate as Asgore stands at
the top with a podium. Everyone is dressed to impress just like proper
politicians, except more…flamboyant? Colorful seems better to portray it.
Undyne sports a white dress shirt with a dark green vest and black suit pants.
Alphys is in something similar to a lab coat, but a hole has been cut out so
her tail isn’t just underneath. She also has an orange skirt to cover what the
coat can’t. Sans has a black dress shirt and dark blue plants, with cyan
suspenders contrasting it all. Papyrus stands directly beside him with white
and peach orange suit and brown dress pants.
At the podium Asgore stands proudly with his hair tied back into a ponytail.
You are almost certain he trimmed his beard, but you wouldn’t know since you
really only saw him for a second or two. He wears a grey long sleeve dress
shirt with a tight purple vest – the muscles and fluff hiding beneath are
likely wearing those buttons out. The vest has vague golden lacing on the sides
that trails down to black dress pants. Toriel stands behind him in a rather
stunning violet dress with thin see through sleeves. It also has intricate
golden lacing around the bodice that trails down the back.
Seriously, whomakes their clothes?
A tough chested man you’ve never met before stands beside Toriel. His beard is
nearly as impressive as Asgores, but it’s more of a ginger brown. His forearms
threaten to split a seam in his tight grey suit with blue dress shirt and white
tie beneath. He has strange bangs that curl and coil down his ears with his
hair clipped into a bun. Honestly, if he didn’t have the whole official getup
you’d mistake him for a lumberjack or a butcher.
You didn’t pay attention to Asgore’s retort, but to his facial expressions;
clear struggle and plenty of concern. If you hadn’t heard of it, then it was
fresh news to them as well. Even knowing this, they volley berating questions
that are clearly stressing him out. Muffet is paying intense attention to the
TV as you feel your nerves boil.
“Hey, uh, Muffet can I use the bathroom real quick?” You mumble while backing
away. You grab two napkins and a pen from the front desk.
“Of course dearie – not many customers so long as this riff-raff proceeds.”
Muffet sighs without even turning to face you. You fly out the back and find
the workers in mid production.
“Guys – huge favor. Can you get me a box of donut holes? If Muffet finds out I
will let her take it out of my own pay, please.” You ask. They only hesitate a
second before they spindle together a fresh batch. As they work, you write
hastily onto the napkins. Once they lower the filled box to you, you mutter a
quick “Thanks” and rush into the bathroom. It’s a bit more energy to make a
fresh tear into the Void, but if Muffet came looking you needed to at least
come out where you were intended to. It’s spacious enough to make a tear as you
throw yourself through and float about. You recall briefly that first rooftop
view of the city and start there.
Popping out, you’re fortunate enough to find the commotion just a street
across. The crowd is much more intimidating then the news lets on. It’s like a
bustling army of chatter boxes. Even from this height and distance their
continuous noise is worthy of a headache. The breeze flutters about as you hold
up the napkin.
“Kair mosil vantasha”You whisper to the napkin and let it flutter onto the
breeze. Manipulating the wind to bring it down to the podium is practically
child’s play.
===============================================================================
 
 
===============================================================================
He gives a sigh and rubs the hair off the side of his neck. The press were
really hounding him down about this, and the break in last night certainly
escalates the problems. Undyne, Sans, and Papyrus are on side job as body
guards in case things resolve similar to the last official gathering. He has to
admit it would be better to have Rea to dissuade some of the more open humans.
Then again, she likely didn’t fare the best in social situations such as these.
“We’re looking into the matter. The Whimsalots were uninjured, but the property
damage will be directly covered by Mayor Theel. He has shown great kindness to
my people, but this dilemma is our issue to resolve.” He speaks harshly into
the microphone, hoping someone in the crowd would flinch under the guilt – but
the sea of faces makes it practically impossible.
“Has anything been discovered?” “What’s the cost of the property damage?” “Are
you accepting the Mayors help simply because of his increased relations with
monster folk?” “Is it true that the Mayor has been bribed by your gold?!”
He feels Undyne tensing to his side as he sighs. Mayor Theel abruptly cuts into
the fray and snatches the mic.
“My people are my people! There is no bribing, and bigotry is uncalled for! Now
I humbly request you make your questions one at a time, and to not stray from
the subject matter.” Mr. Theel backs away as he gives his friend a thankful
stare. Mayor Theel was one of the first to openly congratulate and accept his
people onto the surface. He has been heaps of help and reminds himself of his
boisterous youth. Strong head on his shoulders and confidently expressing his
ideals and true thoughts.
“But, Mayor Theel, the subject matter is on point!” “Waddle back to your news-
station gramps you’re just hunting for a raise!” “What did you say?!” “The
truth lies in the lies!” “Are the Whimsalots going to press charges against the
city?!” “You’re just acting like a racist!!” “When will repairs restore the
property damage and what were the costs?”  
And, as always, the press divided. It merely added to the noise – a few groups
would verbally and even physically quarrel as the others took advantage of the
chaos to continue to ask questions. He sighs and rubs his temple. A light
breeze frees more hair and a napkin lands on his provided documents. Something
is scratched onto it in pen.
‘Hea-“Heads up, Asgore.” Before he can even read the words, Rea’s voice catches
in his mind. Not a moment later, a strong gust comes tumbling through and into
the crowded paparazzi. Some scream and exclaim as the violent breeze even
throws some lighting fixtures and microphones – heck, even people lose their
footing amidst the crowd. Something flies down at the front of the crowd that
he manages to lunge forward and catch while still keeping his footing. It
nearly crashed into a reporter who had been knocked to her knees. She looked up
at him awkwardly hovering above after catching the falling item.
“Oh, u-uh, t-thank you.” She mumbles shyly as Asgore repositions himself.
Looking at the item, it was a package sealed with a ribbon – from Muffets.
Another napkin was wrapped around the container, and he could feel something
tumbling about inside. Unravelling the piece as people were checked on by
securities and they bustled to retrieve any lost items, he skims the paper and
hears it again.
“Don’t panic that you can hear my voice. It’s an incantation. Only those who
read it will hear me. Stop flipping panicking. Everyone’s watching. Be the
proud king of the past once more, or I’ll pop you off that throne faster than
you can bleat. Now buck up.                      -Rea
P.S – I’m still doing my bodyguard job.”
He pulls his sight from the crazed text to the roof tops. Sure enough he can
make out the unique dress fluttering above with your hair whipping about. Your
gaze is strict and cold, but there is a tender feel to it too despite his
inability to see your eyes. Placing the box onto the podium out of the publics
sight, his blood boils. Cowardice isn’t what put him on the throne.
“Asgore?” Toriels voice asks kindly as her hand rests upon his shoulder. He
turns to give her a smile, and she almost looks stunned. He fixes his posture
and tie while turning back towards the mic. Most of the press have gathered
back together after the gale passed through
“Never would we bribe the Mayor of this town! He is a proud man who has much
wisdom and advice. I know I can learn plenty from him, and he from me – for our
hearts yearn for the same thing- peace among our people! I turn to you, the
citizens, and am torn. Instinctively I yearn to trust everyone among you whole-
heartedly as I have my people for centuries! Those who caused this incident
will be put up to the human laws regarding justice, not I. It is unsightly that
this had to occur, but it changes nothing – we will rebuild, we will live on,
and we won’t give up our hopes that our souls can beat together in the same
community! Now, are there any other questions pertaining to the incident?”
===============================================================================
 
 
===============================================================================
The noise has quelled some as you watch Asgore fluidly answer questions and
reassure the people. Plenty seem to have lost the will to back talk him – his
confident and assuring aura is thrumming off him in waves. You smile proudly as
he seems to regain some of that regality and strength in his posture. Vaguely
you can discern him looking up towards the buildings. Seems my message made it,
you sigh. Unfortunately, you can only lag behind a few more minutes before
Muffet raises suspicion as to why you’ve been in the bathroom for 10 or more
minutes. You give another hearty breeze into the crowd to spread concern of
another tumbling gale. Asgore looks up briefly as you wave and pop back into
the Void. You giggle triumphantly as you click back into the bathroom,
practically stumbling with your heels.
Noise greeted you upon your return. Wandering out into the main area reveals
that the place has picked up an extensive line threatening to spill out the
door. Checking the time showed it was supposed to be surprisingly slow at the
moment. Muffet spun around and you are certain dollar signs were in her eyes.
“Oh dearie, it’s been packed for the last couple of minutes! Grab the orders
while I cash these people out!” Muffet instructs and you only briefly hesitate
before just putting yourself in front of the pastries. Muffet cashes people out
who then sidle down and give you the slip with their order. This only happened
once when the rush hour was surprisingly busy. You lost the time as you put
together the requested orders, and everyone seemed excited. Even after the rush
it was a steady trickle of customers. Only during a brief pause did one
customer make you stop and stare.
“You’re-“ The lady I tried to bash in the head for making shit remarks at
Asgore- “-that lady who almost got hit in the head…” You withhold the comment
racing through your brain.
“Haha, uh, y-yes! My camera man and a few of the, uh, other stations caught the
moment where Mr. Dreemurr caught that box. The logo is very prominent, so I
thought it would be something worth trying!”
Your hands bang against the pastries glass as your knees tremble. The woman
looks concerned, but doesn’t break a smile. Muffet is practically crying with
the amount of money that is almost popping out of the register.
So this is all my fault?!
===============================================================================
 
 
===============================================================================
“Oh, Rea dear! You’re replacement is here! You can head home!” Muffet calls as
the other dainty girl walks in and past you, already adorning a petite smile.
“Thanks!!” You call and speed out the back grabbing what little you’d brought
along. She can handle the rest of that insanity. It didn’t really slow down for
3 hours. How many people live in this town is beyond you, but you weren’t about
to walk around town flaunting more of Muffets store logo. You would feel it
tomorrow. You jump into a seam and float about to the vague area of Frisks
school. The bell must’ve already rung as you peek around a corner of a gate to
see students piling into buses. Frisk is patiently standing on the sidelines,
likely chatting with Flowey.
“Frisk, head over here.” You call to him. Frisk perks up immediately and peers
around before spotting your tiny wave and rushing over.
“Re-“ You don’t let either of them get a word in as you snuggle Frisk with a
firm grip right against your chest and fall into the Void once more. Flowey
just had to scream and flail around in a useless panic as you fell through and,
eventually, landed with a slide right in the backyard. Releasing Frisk you
groan impatiently and pry off the heels.
“Sorry bud. I just couldn’twalk today. I need to play a game or something.
Drink some tea. Hoo boy…” You sigh and pass a confused but excited Frisk.
Dragging your feet upstairs and locking the door you instantly strip into the
longest t-shirt you can find. It was Gunnar’s. You’re certain you haven’t
washed it enough to get his cigarette smell off it either. Mirage had made a
dream of his into a shirt. It was Gunnar directly in the center, though his
eyes had been shaded after he was swallowed. His usually mop-like hair was
flowing and laced with reds, oranges, and yellows – like a sun. His shirt was
burst open revealing within an extensive neon blue tattoo he actually bore. His
pants were rainbow stripes with black boots up to his knees. For some silly
reason he had 4 arms, each holding a different item – a cigar, a desert eagle,
a sniper, and a crystal. His hardy smile clenched a grenade. Instead of
explosions he was completely surrounded with bullet holes in the background and
ice crystals bursting like colorful fireworks. Snow drifted in through the
holes to mix with the breeze. It was bizarre and insane, but it always cheered
you up to have a piece of him close by.
Wandering back downstairs in nothing but the long shirt and underwear you find
Frisk diligently doing their homework. You sigh and lean against the archway to
watch for a moment. It’s clear he is bickering with Flowey about the correct
answer, Flowey is making a pouty face while Frisk victoriously scratches in an
answer.
Sneaking into the kitchen you make yourself a sandwich for lunch and some
herbal tea you’d stashed away. As the water boils, you clean the dishes you’d
promised to Toriel and set them to the side to dry. A thought rushes into your
mind as you spin around.
“…Trip?” You call into the house. Moments later the little pitter patter of
paws comes from behind a curtain as he rushes out and at your leg. You snicker
and grab him to hold against your chest. He laps at your neck probably because
of stray crumbs.
“Better not pull this weird need for hide and seek anymore. What, ya planning
to ambush Papyrus? He ain’t coming through the backyard. Honestly……” You sigh
but still fluff up his fur. He yips in your ears before nuzzling beneath your
ear. It makes it easier to pour the cup and cart them out like a waiter into
the living room. Unable to see Frisk you pick a spot at the end of the sofa and
let Trip go. He just starts running in wild circles which you don’t dare to
interrupt and instead sip at the tea.
“Where the hell are your pants?” Floweys voice cuts through the pleasant
silence as you’re readying to eat your sandwich. You sigh and pull it back
regretfully.
“Well where are yours?” You reply- hearing yourself, it sounds cheeky.
“I’m a flower.” He argues.
“And yet you were once a little goat boy. These are the trues mysteries of the
world.” You grumble and take a hearty bite of the sandwich. It’s not as good as
Toriels cooking, but it will certainly suffice.
“You’re an idiot.” He chuckles.
“And you are a flower. I believe we have already touched on this subject
matter.” You wave off his insistent want to annoy and check your phone. Seems
Mirage has sent you a heap of info.
Mir – Zebbs still clueless. Tic-Tac seems to be making you a special package,
but idk what it is =3=
Baysoph started the hunt for a new mage. Needs someone to cover the other
worlds if you’re stuck there.
A pang of guilt riles in your heart as you type a message back immediately.
Rea – Don’t let him. I’ll continue my duties without fail.
Knowing that he would drag some other poor sod away from his family simply
because you failed in what you initially set out to do. While gathering more
mages and the sort would be heartwarming if they are in predicaments, if it’s
anything like Frisks situation, you would never seek to tear apart the family.
In that case, it’s completely dependent.
Your deep thought it broken as Frisk taps his pen. Looking towards him, it is
clear that Frisk and Flowey are struggling over the same question. You peek
over and read over the question quickly. You certainly didn’t have a high
school education, but Frisk was in 6thgrade or something. As you’d hoped, it
wasn’t too difficult.
“It’s C.” You mutter and take a sip of the drink. Frisk looks to you in
amazement.
“Is it? But I have to show work.” Frisk mentions. Flowey gives you a side eyed
glare as you reach for the pen and paper.
“Alright. See this? If you add these together…….and take what’s in here out……it
finishes this. After that it’s the basic formula it had you do for the first
few answers.” You lean back and watch Frisk fill in the rest of the answer
before smiling proudly back to you.
“Thank you!”
“No problem.”
For the next half hour you watch Frisk and Flowey continue to argue over the
true answer while you eat your lunch. It somewhat reminds you of yourself and
Mirage when Baysoph was giving simple classes. For being all wise and whatnot,
he was a really bad school teacher.
Frisk finally finishes their homework and you don’t delay to just turn on their
gaming console and pop in some cartoony racing game. Mario Kart – whatever that
is. While the first few minutes are light fun, it gets very intense between you
and Flowey. Even with mere vines he overtakes you a series of times.
“HAHAHA!!” “WHO INVENTED THIS BLUE SHELL?! TURTLES DO NOT FLY, NOR ARE THEY
BLUE!!!”
This proceeds for another hour or so, just you and the kids switching between
games. Without warning or sound, the front door bursts open. Instinctively you
reach out, into your phone, and instantaneously retrieve your scythe in order
to protect.
“What good is having us guardsmen if we are just letting them walk all over
us?!” Undyne storms into the house and throws her bow tie towards the stairs.
You freeze and let the storming fish proceed past you without even a glance in
your direction. Even Frisk and Flowey are stopped by the precession. Papyrus is
next to walk in, though he looks exhausted. You'd never really seen Papyrus
tired in the middle of the day, but it’s somewhat disheartening. Sans comes in
rubbing Alphys’ back as she wipes tears you suppose from behind her glasses.
Toriel and Asgore are the last to enter and Asgore instantly slouches against
the stairs railing with a heavy sigh.
“THINGS WILL BE RESOLVED SOON, YOUR MAJESTY! UNDYNE SPEAKS THE TRUTH, BUT WE
TRUST YOUR JUDGEMENT!” Papyrus tries to perk up for the family, but Toriel
seems to be the only one consoled by his energy. She turns about to take off
her heels and catches you standing guard with your scythe.
“Rea? What are you doing?” She asks with slight aggression. You blink away your
stunned surprise and let the scythe materialize back into the phones inventory
space.
“Look, it was instinct.” You defend and scratch your head. She looks you over
with too much fatigue to be bothered by your ineptitude, but her eyes bulge and
cheeks flush. She immediately walks over with a heavy blush and looms over you
as she leans into your ear.
“You have shorts on underneath that, yes?” It’s a maternal tone that makes you
gulp in fear. You’re instantly hateful for whatever fear you’ve conjured – it’s
Toriel; you can take her with one hand.
“Nope. Freedom to my thi- AaaAAAH!!” She snags your ear with her two fingers
and drags you towards the stairs. Nobody questions the behavior and makes a
path as she persistently shoves you up the first few steps.
“Well get some on! If you are living here the least you can provide is some
modesty!” She orders. You are certain shock is clear on your face as you turn
about and glare right into her eyes.
“You’re not my mother, so don’t take that tone with me! You could have just
asked!! I realize you guys have had a rough day, but mine has been pretty
terrible too! I completely forgot that Muffet puts her logo on literally
everything, so immediately after I chucked that box, like, a dozen cameramen
caught it and the store was flooded!” You growl back impatiently.
“You nearly hit that woman.” Asgore steps in with an equally stern look to
parallel Toriels.
“Oh! So now it’s my fault! Don’t you dare tell me you didn’t hear her snarky
comments! Thanks to you saving her, I’m sure the media will be all over it –
even though she is a racist bitch, kind and loving Ki-“
The clap of fur and flesh brings utter silence to the accumulated group as
everyone’s face stays stunned as Toriel retreats her hand from your face. With
the force behind the slap you are certain you felt your neck crack. You turn
back slowly to her, mouth and eyes open as her own face begins to parallel
yours. You feel your magic surge out as your hair flies and coils like a
violent snow storm. Your eye burns as you peer deep into her eyes, into her
being, her SOUL.
Small. Fragile. Regal. Petite. Assured. Maternal. Love. Fear. Affection. Kind.
Hesitant.
Deeper.
Memories. A family. Friends. Hardships and rewards. Sacrifices.
Deeper still.
So frail. So miniscule. Like a child; no, an infant. It’s warm and wriggling.
Then it stills.
You snap a hand over your eye immediately. Time was frozen. You’d frozen time.
“Oh fucking GREAT!” You screech and punch the wall. Internal turmoil always led
to muddy results. Frisk at least didn’t have this issue of raw magic constantly
leaking out of their face. Covering it or keeping it closed often worked until
you were calm enough to control it again. You gather yourself and conceal it
behind your hand. Focusing all your energy into the world around you, you will
it to advance. It’s a bit complicated, but luckily things begin to breathe and
move again. Looking up, Toriel seems to be trying to reach and inspect your
cheek. You just flash a cheeky smile.
“Ya call that slap? Gosh you are terrible at discipline. Fine, fine. Shorts is
all you’re getting from me though.” You blurt out the words and rush up the
stairs to not allow a word to get in. Just going along with it all at the
moment seemed the best idea. You rush upstairs and throw yourself onto the bed.
Magic burns your eye and hand as it presses for release and you instantly put
your thoughts into meditating. It may only be for a few minutes, but it does
little to quell the rush coursing through you. There wasn’t any built up
malice, just spur of the moment aggression – the amount of energy it would take
the amount of hate filled magic surging through your body isn’t worth it. If
the night is resolved quickly there should be no issues. With that in mind, you
just shimmy some shorts on and keep your eye closed.
Frisk and Flowey are back to playing that Mario Kart or whatever and pause when
you come back downstairs.
“The hell are you doing with your face?” Flowey glares at you as you wave off
his question.
“What? I can’t just wink for a couple of hours?” You flop onto the sofa and
Frisk pauses the game before crawling over.
“Are you okay? Everyone looked really upset…..Your cheek is red.”Frisk touches
the skin. It really didn’t hurt, it merely surprised you.
“I made Toriel a little mad. It’s fine though. Everyone just had a really
stressful day.”You consult personally back to Frisk and ruffle their hair.
Their sunken expression clearly states that they understand you’re hiding the
truth, but they certainly don’t try to pry it from you and slip back into the
game. Flowey offers you a controller, surprisingly.
“Up for another round of getting creamed?”
“No. I’m good.” You push away the controller. More instigation certainly wasn’t
what you needed at the moment.
“Aaaww whats the matter? Finally admitting defeat? The great and powerful
mage?! I knew you were just a wuss!” Flowey laughs at you. Frisk briskly pauses
the game and smacks one of his leaves. They bicker briefly, Frisk gives you a
reassuring thumbs up, and before long they return to their game. You watch
until Asgore comes downstairs and loosening his collar. He looks between you
three and comes in with a forced yet gentle smile.
“Frisk. Flowey. Were you both able to finish your homework?” Asgore implies as
Frisk pauses the game quickly. He signs rapidly to Asgore, you only catch a few
words as Asgores cheeks turn up with his smile.
“Well it’s great that she could help. Toriel is going to teach Papyrus how to
make some shepherd’s pie – would you mind mediating to make sure he doesn’t get
into anything?” Asgore ruffles Frisk hair and he nods enthusiastically. Flowey
gets dragged along groaning, leaving simply you and Asgore in the living room.
He turns off the game console and switches over to the news while lighting the
fire place.
“I apologize for what happened earlier. Everyone is very stressed at the
moment.” Asgore sighs and falls into his giant chair. You sigh and lower the
volume on the news to concentrate.
“What happened? I briefly heard what happened over the news and from you guys.”
He clamps his hands together tightly and just shakes his head.
“The Whimsalots about several houses down have holes dug in their entire yard,
their mailbox is missing, and foul graffiti covers the entire houses front. It
happened in the middle of the night. We’d be able to pinpoint the time better
if the cameras apparently didn’t catch any feed the other night. There is wild
concerns that a spy is on the inside.” He lets his head fall against his joined
paws with grievance.
“Oh, those jerks in the lowrider? They came at about 3 in the morning I think…”
You hum and sip at your cold tea.
“You saw them!?” Asgore shouts in surprise. You nearly spit your tea.
Recollecting this morning, you hadn’t really had the time to share that news
with them until now. You nod apologetically.
“Yeah. Trip had to go to the bathroom. He growled at the door and when I heard
them rolling down the street I rushed out. Didn’t catch their license plate,
but I vaguely know it’s a dark blue low rider. I don’t know much more about
cars. Sans might’ve seen more of them before they caused all that smoke.”
“Sans? He should have been at work until 5 that morning…” Asgores hand strokes
his beard as you are left to ponder. That magic was thin like wire – it would
have to of been fresh. Either Sans was there or you made a mistake; once you
felt someone’s magic, you never misplaced it’s origin.
“No. I’m positive Sans was there.” You argue and slouch forward.
“Hmm….I’ll ask him over dinner.” Asgore sighs and puts his feet up to warm near
the fire.
“So, what’s got Undyne hunting for blood?” You murmur and blink your eyes. Even
the brief exposure creates a momentary fluctuation. Luckily, Asgore doesn’t
feel the distortion.
“She is being difficult. We must rely on the humans police force to look into
the incident, even though it is, legally, our own issue. Mayor Theel expressed
his desire to help my people from the very beginning and he has been completely
honest and patient with us. Now he offers a squadron to investigate and Undyne
is aghast that she herself or any of the other Royal Guards are working on the
case matter. She feels betrayed most likely. Right now, however, I must protect
my people – this includes those who are meant to protect others. It’s for the
best.” Asgore sighs again. The fatigue finally settles on his face while he
leans back comfortably. A silence settles between you both past the fire
sparking and the quiet news.
“Your shirt….”Asgore mumbles. “….That is Pulfox, is it not?”
“His descendant, yes. The tattoo strike a chord with you?” You snicker and lean
back against the arm.
“Memories, yes. While he was one of those who helped erect the barrier, he was
a very skilled fighter. Though he seemed quite aloof.”
“You’ve got that right. Pretty sure he is on par with Sans’ lazy level.” You
giggle and Asgore’s smile grows. The fire simply crackled in the silence as you
noticed the chill in the air. Stiffly, you rise from the couch and seat
yourself at the base of the fire place with a pillow.
“I’ve had a long day. Can you wake me up for dinner?” You murmur while fluffing
the pillow and getting comfy despite the brick and wood. You bury your head and
let the flames flaring sounds ease you into rest. In any other place, it would
be harder to rest near an active flame. Yet, peaking at Asgores rising chest
and resting smile eases your mild fears.
===============================================================================
 
 
===============================================================================
He stirs the coffee absently and recalls the exhausting day in the solemn air.
Tori has been rewashing the dishes Rea already worked on to likely clear her
thoughts. He scratched his skull as Trip snuggled against his slippers. He
certainly hadn’t expected to come home to Rea getting wrecked at Mario Kart.
Nor for her to be wearing nothing buta shirt.
It threw him enough to not interject during the argument. His momentary attempt
to try and ease her aggression led to a shot of black he hadn’t expected to
witness twice in his life, let alone the same week.
But he felt it.
The slowing of time.
He would lie to himself that it didn’t remind him of Frisk’s first get together
with him at Grillbys. It was safer to presume it as such. But one moment,
everyone is horrified by Tori slapping Rea across the face. The next, her
yellow spinning eyes becomes something similar to a beam. Like a predator, it
honed in. On what, he isn’t entirely sure – but it certainly had to of been
Toriel. The next moment, you conceal your face, play off the fights pause and
rush away.
Paps and the kid were pretty bit in the butt from the gloomy atmosphere. Toriel
hadn’t really said more than a few words when speaking. Asgore was clearly too
tired to be bothered by the issue. Alphys had left to try and ease Undynes
anger. Everyone was far too stressed to have another problem in the house.
Though he sided with Asgores decision, it wasn’t as though he enjoyed depending
on the humans. He certainly wasn’t self-centered to pool all humans together.
He’d seen his fair share of the uncouth side, but every few moments he
witnessed something that warmed his soul.
A sigh from the kitchen raised his attention as Toriel finally shut the tap
off. She looked weary as she dried her hands and gazed out into the backyard.
Papyrus and Frisk were eagerly watching the shepherds pie bake in the oven.
From the smell of things, it was nearly done.
“Oh Sans…” Toriel whispers while seating herself beside him. He puts the book
he’d had open to the side; it lost his attention a while ago.
“things’ll calm down tori.” He replies with a smile. “I don’ know ‘bout you,
but I don’ pie-ticularly think it’s as bad as it can get at the moment.” He
offers with a shrug, Toriel’s eyes growing mirthful for even a split second.
“I appreciate your help. I just……….It’s been so awful. All of this hatred and
pain. The building stress? Now Rea is here, livingwith us, teaching my child
how to be a mage. The ever looming threat of this Zebbulon discovering Frisks
existence? I feel like I have lost some years in the past few days alone with
the fretting.” Toriel presses her paw against her forehead as Sans holds her
other hand. Her fur bristles against his bone and seeps into any cranny it can.
A tickling sensation, true, but warm and real.
“Tori, you still worryin’ ‘bout that after that whole debacle we just had?” He
snickers, though the humor it pushed. She shakes her head and peers back
towards the kitchen.
“I was merely reminded today. Rea…..At times, I genuinely view her as nothing
more than human. A tender girl who missed a childhood and was raised amongst no
love. I want to show her the goodness of family and let her bathe in
affections. Goodness, I’ve even preposterously believed we could protecther.”
Her hand quivers and grips his own hands with a tightening fist. Her eyes
tremble as she stares into nothing.
“But earlier……with her weapon drawn? I woke to the fact that, no, it is
unlikely. She is always so on guard, yet vulnerable to a fault. I let my
instincts get the better of myself for her lake of behavior and…….stars, Sans.
Her eyes were ice daggers. It felt as though she would reach out and crush me
in an instant…………It was terrifying. I’ve felt fear, but never a distinctive
threat upon my very life, or the ones I loved. I’m unsure it was even
intentional; she mentioned her aggression issues briefly. It was wrong of me to
uptake such an attitude with her upon returning…….but I can’t get the thought
out of my head that she could kill us.” Toriel is on the verge of weeping as
her head hangs solemnly. Carefully, he lets his magic loosen as a tissue box
levitates over to the table. She releases her forehead and uptakes a few to dab
at her eyes. With a sniffle, she forces a smile, and says “Thank you my friend.
It is but a fleeting thought….I will be alright.”
She rises from the seat and proceeds back into the kitchen. She peeks at the
pie and instructs Papyrus to take it out.
“Sans, would you please inform Asgore that dinner is ready? I’ll go fetch
Alphys and Undyne. Papyrus, be very careful retrieving that from the oven
please.” She asks sweetly and wanders over to Undynes side.
“YES YOUR MAJESTY!!” Papyrus salutes her walking figure and begins to
strategize how to best retrieve the pie from the oven. Sans pushes himself from
the seat and Trip circles him enthusiastically while leading towards the living
room. In regards to his annoying nature, he has been fairly tame so long as he
isn’t directly aiming for Papyrus. He yips happily and rushes into the living
room. He can feel the fires hearth radiating heat, and the TV is barely
audible.
As he thought, Asgore is conked out in his chair. Toriel had mentioned
beforehand he hadn’t been sleeping well, so after this exhausting experience he
certainly needed the relaxation. He’d placed a blanket over himself, but it was
slowly falling off towards the fireplace. Wanting to keep the house cinder-
free, he reaches over to retrieve it. A flash of silver white catches his
attention as he wanders around the massive king. To his surprise, Rea is curled
into a little ball against the wood and bricks clutching the blanket. He’d
laugh at the fact that she was trying to take his capability of sleeping
anywhere, but he is too tempted to draw on her face. She readjusts herself,
only painting a new image of her in his mind. It isn’t just her bunched up body
or the innocent act of hogging a blanket – Rea just appears so young and
fragile. Course it’s only when she’s sleepin’, he reminds himself.
Her knees are tucked tightly to her chest as half of her face snuggles into the
pillow she likely dragged along. He’d seen her sleep a few times – mostly after
that sealing incident. Her face was constantly contorted and sweating,
breathing harsh and sometimes nonexistent. Now her chest rose softly and her
teeth parted with each breath. Her cheeks and ears were red, likely from the
flames. It gave her this rosy effect that merely added to the child-like
appearance.
“At times, I genuinely view her as nothing more than human. A tender girl who
missed a childhood and was raised amongst no love.”Tori’s words mixed in with
other brief memories.
“They had tied me to a pillar in the middle of a pile of firewood, match at the
ready. I didn’t even have a moment to process what was happening before they
lit the wood.” His eyes flit over her skin, and he catches it. She hid it well
with socks and pants, but across her feet and lower legs were clear burn scars.
The skin flared red scorch marks like a synchronized flame. Like embers could
spark at her very heels and she would run through the forest to craft a wall of
fire. She likely could if he thought about it.
She turned about towards the fire before he decided it best to wake them both.
Grasping her shoulder, he gave a light shake.
“hey, smalls, ya keep sittin’ so close t’ the fire yer skin wont match.” He
snickers and feel her grumble.
“Hmmm?” Asgore rouses and stretches upwards. “Wha’ time is it?” He smacks his
mouth as he continues to shake Rea awake.
“I do believe the queen said dinner, but that’s speculation I guess.” He shrugs
and shakes Rea more. She groans and coils in on herself. Her face contorts into
fear and pain. Nightmare prob’ly, he tells himself. He pokes her cheek quickly,
but perhaps letting her rest would be wiser.“’ey, your maje-“ He cuts himself
off to turn about and find Asgore. He is completely still with arms stretching
upwards and an eye peeked open. Frozen in time – he hadn’t noticed because the
fire still crackled on. This was not his doing- ceasing the flow of time wasn’t
an easy feat, and it often threw the timeline for a loop. A sound like static
wind mixes with the popping fire as he follows the source quickly. Rea’s eyes
are knotting together as she murmurs something foreign under her breath.
Similar to his own, a bright mist of yellow and red seeps from his closed
eyelid.
“Rea? ‘ey!” He barks immediately and shakes her shoulders harder. It likely
wasn’t comfortable against the wood. Her eyes pop open not a moment later, and
a bright red light pierces his vision. The air grows intense, his body is
thrown back as Rea flies back and skitters backwards across the floor. The wind
is knocked from his nonexistent lungs. Peeking down, she is cradled herself
with her legs tucked in directly in his lap. She is shivering intensely,
similar to that one night she was unbearably hot. It reminded him of his
indefinite repeating nightmares. Trip comes surging from the kitchen suddenly,
surprising him due to the lack of time moving forward. This dog just defies all
types of logic, he snickers and chooses to lock his arms around Rea. Trip
stands against her shoulder and licks wildly at her cheek. She tenses
dramatically, but can’t move about while he has his arms locked around her. His
sigh catches on her ear as she spins about. That yellow spiraling eye is almost
hypnotic if it wasn’t so yearning and wide. And yet, there is a pull—
                                A faceless man bearing two scars holds my hand-
My hands are numb and red. That wasn’t a normal snowball-
                                                      My brother. He’s so cool.
Why won’t they look at me?
                                          Warmth and golden light is coming in.
Fire soars into my eyes. Air is scarce.
                               A foreboding knife dripping with sweat and dust.
Corpses piled higher and higher.
                                                     “It’ll never end, will’t?”
“It won’t ever end.”
                                                            “Wait, who’s that?”
“What?”
                                                         “I am hearing myself.”
“Why would I say that?”
                                Soaring flames.
                                 Golden halls.
                      Fearful eyes; glaring and staring.
                               Pain. Such pain.
                                                            “Why does it hurt?”
“It always hurts.”
                                                                “But I’m fine.”
“That’s a lie, and I know it.”
                          A tiny light, beating slow.
                          White. Small. Yet existing.
            It bathes in a light. Orange, green and an ocean blue.
                  A hand cups it. Warmth spreads through me.
                 That door. That human. That day. That smile.
           Those jokes. Those people. Those mistakes. Those deaths.
                                                    “I don’t want to remember.”
“Remember? These never came to be.”
                                                 “That’s a lie, and I know it.”
“It’s not a lie. These are not mine.”
                                    “They are mine! I cannot feign ignorance!!”
“Whatdya say?”
                                                                         “Wha-“
             Gold. Blood. Dust. Smile. Hold. Death. Gone. Repeat.
 Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat
 Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat
        Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat Repeat-
                                                                  “Just stop!!”
“This isn’t mine!”
                                                        “What are you saying?!”
“. . . . . You?”
                                                “Yes, you!!. . . . You, right?”
 They’re coming. They’ll take me. I’m doomed. I’ll be used. Abused. Tortured.
                                    Killed.
 They’re coming for me now. For them. I can’t do it. I wasn’t capable from the
                                    start.
            They’ll take them. They’ll kill them. Then me. Or not.
 A fate worse then death. I don’t want it. Just kill me. It burns. It burns so
                                     much.
    I’m being burned alive. There’s nothing here. Nothing. No one. Nobody.
         Nobody will come for me. I am alone. Always, forever, alone.
                                                                     “What is-“
“Oh my god. . . . “
                                                      “Why is this happening?!”
“What the fuck?!”
                                                                  “What are y-“
“Sans?!?!?”
===============================================================================
 
 
===============================================================================
 
You blink and pull back. Sweat is covering your skull; hisskull. You peer down.
His soul rests comfortably in your hand. Your cheeks flush. Shutting your eyes,
you shove it back into his ribs. He chokes briefly, then gasps. You open your
eyes, shielding the one with your hand.
“wha-“ “OHMYGOD-“ You throw yourself from his grip and thud backwards onto the
carpet. Something zips past your vision as cracking fire and TV begins to play
in your ears. You’re panting and hear someone sigh behind you.
“Hmmm, S-Sans, when were you over th-“ “OH GOD I’M SOSORRY!!” You blurt out
with panic. Sans seems stunned and feels around his ribcage. His face grows
confused as he blindly feels about, but he looks to your hand. Etched across it
are white and light blue marks similar to chalk. Residue. His face instantly
turns light blue and his jaw drops.
“we-we were-you- were you-?!” His sentences falter as you push yourself up to
your feet.
“Sans? Is Asgore still asle-“ “I’M NOT HUNGRY!!!” You scream back to Toriels
interruption and fly upstairs. You briefly catch the flabbergasted stares of
Toriel and Asgore, but the only thing you hear is “wait, Rea!!”, and your legs
fly.
Rushing into your bedroom you slam and lock the door. Tears begin to well in
your eyes, memories flash before your mind – they are definitelynot yours. You
croak back a sob when the air begins to whir. Instantly you forgot Sans’
capabilities and fly into the study. The door won’t budge as you try to push
the door shut.
“Rea!” “I’M SORRY, ALRIGHT?! JUST LET GO!” You scream back and push harder. “I
need answers!!” he also sounds like he is on the verge of sobbing. You make
slight head way with the door, but something snags the top. Looking up, that
draconic skull he used to shoot in the void is gnawing at your door. Gasping
and falling back in fear it may fire, Sans throws the door open and nearly
forcing you to fall backwards. The instant he is in, the door slams shut and he
grasps your arm. It isn’t tender, but it isn’t hurting either. His face is full
of confusion and fear, tears popping out his sockets wildly.
“R-Rea, what’d ya-“ “I looked into your soul, okay!? It-It was an accident! It
happens!” “That isn’t somethin’ tha’ just happens!” You were both blurting
things out and sobbing. He pulled you closer to his ribcage and his tears
trickled through your hair. Your arms found their way around his back, and you
held each other.
“why do I feel like this?! why are we-“ “I-I looked to-too deep. My eye- it-I-
I can’t- it just does it! It takes time- I can’t just turn it off!!” “there
were bodies, just bodies-“ “Don’t think about that! Those are mine! You didn’t
need to see that!!”
You’re clutching at each other desperately as you fall onto your knees.
“I-I couldn’t breathe Rea. what happened-“ “ I-I don’t know…” You wept harder
and pleaded into his shirt. There was such comfort and sorrow now. Before it
was disdain and indifference. Yet, now, you needed his words, his bones, his
heat.
“Fire, golden light, Fr-Frisk-“ “the knife-“ You both pause and breathe. He
grips your head and presses you into his clavicle. Your eyes keeps surging as
you keep it shut tight. It feels like an eternity you sit there cradling each
other. This sort of interaction would usually repel you- making bonds isn’t
something your line of work allows. Yet you can’t push him away, nor press him
closer. It’s an agony of a distance compared to what you had before. Forcefully
delving into someone soul was never something you wanted to do, and the few
times you had done it was to exploit weakness. Sans’ weakness was also his
strength, and you would never be able to forget it now.
Time eggs on and the gasps grow quiet. You both still have a fresh stream of
tears rushing down your face. You hear the front door burst open, and Sans
flinches.
“SANS? REA? IT IS TIME FOR DINNER! THE GREAT BROTHERLY PAPYRUS HAS ASSISTED IN
HAND-CRAFTING THE SHEPHERDS PIE! ALONG WITH FRISK OF COURSE!!” Papyrus calls
out and stomps around your room.
“I-I’ll, uh, be there in a m-minute Paps!” He calls back as you grip his arm.
“SANS?.....REA?.....YOUR MAJESTY ARE YOU CERTAIN THEY RAN UP HERE?” Papyrus
calls back.
“Paps, we’re in here-“ You squeeze his forearm and shake your head.
“H-He can’t hear anything in here. I’ve sound proofed it.” You mumble and wipe
your face. He stands and turns to the door, before you add “The door is sealed
with a spell and some keys. ‘Course the keys don’t do me shit since you guys
can apparently just raid my room whenever. That’s why the spell is there. You
can’t Void travel in, nor out.” You sigh and focus on breathing slower. Sans
gives a test twist of the knob to no avail. He grumbles and scratches his
skull.
“so, we’re having a talk?” He leans against the door and crosses his arms with
a sniffle. Your face thoroughly rubbed free of the still running tears, you
work your way onto your feet. How the hell am I going to explain what just
happened, you whimper in your mind. Turning towards him, his eyes are wide as
he looks about the room. He leaves his spot against the door and gingerly steps
around; you rub your head in thought.
“Just don’t touch anything, please. You’re not supposed to be in here.” You
stress and look for the mug you had in here before- there should still be water
in it. While picking around the contents of your desk, you find a package from
Tic Tac. When it arrived in your room you’re uncertain, but you undo the
construction capsule to find a Gnawing Eye. It’s a specially made eye-patch for
you. You work it onto your eye and feel a slight pain, but otherwise relief.
Turning back, Sans is nearing the computer screen where your series of
documented data and files lies; the SAVE Star glimmers and catches his eye.
“…..how’d you get all di-“ “Look, I said this wasn’t somewhere you should
really be. If I am supposed to live here, I’d rather know what I can about you
guys so I don’t start up any shitty conversations such as “Oh wow. So you’re
the king who murdered six children – wow, nice to meet another murderer!!” or
such.” You grumble and click off the files. He looks discontented with the
answer as you continue to pillage about in search of the mug. Finally finding
it resting by the window, you’re thoroughly depressed to find it evaporated
away. Sighing and turning back, Sans is reaching out towards the realm-watcher.
You snap forward and seize his hand.
“I told you not to touch anything, so please don’t-“ Both of you freeze as
faint lights appear between you. His soul has popped free of his ribcage as
yours is still emerging from your chest. You shriek and shove yours and his
back in there proper space without thought. His face is bright blue and he
feels about his ribs warily.
“wh-why’d it c’me out?” Sans whispers and feels around his chest cavity as you
take gulps of air. Just a simple touching gesture results in this
intensity.....
“Sans. I-I need you not to panic, or tell anyone about this.” You put your
hands up in warning and catch his attention.
“We are likely in a temporary soul bond—“ “YOU DID WHAT?!?!” He shrieks and his
cyan iris bursts into solid form.
“Ca-Calm down! I can feel your intentions and it’s hard to breathe!!” You yell
back and clasp your head. Every minute each raw emotion was getting clearer and
certainly more intentional. His eye flits around sheepishly as he looks at his
ribs again.
“why- how- what happened?!” His teeth are grit tight and he is shivering.
“My-My eye- it’s sorta like ‘popping’, but weirder? Imagine kind of like a
swing. You can’t stop mid swing because of the force behind it. Now imagine
you’re halfway through said swing and something crosses your path you don’t
want to hit. Imagine that you were able to stop the swing, but all the force
and energy behind it built into one thing so if you used said thing it would
react with equal energy output.”
“My eye is one of the main sources of magic for me and the main controller of
release. When Toriel slapped my face earlier, I had an internal ‘pop’, but knew
I couldn’t take it out. So all of the energy got stored away into my eye. If
energy gets stored into my eye it can have……I’ll say multitude of effects
because that’s accurate.” You grumble and knead at your forehead. You were
starting to feel his thoughts, even hear vague bits of them. Most of them
mirrored his current confusion, and the close proximity was doing little to
assist.
“so, like, the time distortions- that was you?” Sans clears up as you nod.
“Those were unintentional.” You murmur back.
“Unintentional.” He mimics. You can feel the surprise or sarcasm radiating off
him.
“Look it does what it wants! And- and if I look at somebody too long I look
into them, into their memories, and eventually their soul!! I don’t mean to!”
“that’s not a thing of not meaning to! do you have any idea how private that
is?!” If Sans had hair he’d likely be ripping it free from his skull as he
begins to pace around.
“Well I’m sorry I didn’t mean to just grab your soul! It just naturally
happened!!” You huff and turn about with aggravation. Frustrated tears well up
into your eyes again as you bite your lip. There is a choking sound from behind
you.
“so, how-“ He gasps and fabric moves about, “how long does- does this last?”
“I don’t know…..I’ve never gone that deep before. I neverwanted to.” You mutter
back and rub your freezing arms. “I-I atleast know it’s not, like, an official
bond. It should dissipate within about…..I don’t know, a week.”
“I have to feel you for a week?!” He growls and you glare back at him. His
anger immediately subsides as he catches your frustrated tears.
“I’ve got to deal with this too!! I know it’s my fault, and it’s just as bad
for me as you! I don’t do bonds! You might, eventually, but this is—I didn’t
want to know what you were thinking, or feeling! That’s your business! But I
don’t want you to hear my thoughts either!!” You pace besides the window and
gnaw on your lip.
“This entire thing is making me super emotional and hormonal or something and I
can’t get my friggin’ tears to stop because the only thing I can keep seeing in
my friggin’ mind is that golden hall, over and over a-and-“ His boney hands
find your wrists and tug them back into him before he envelops you into a hug.
He clutches you tight and breathes against your ear as you press back.
“St-Stop! You need to let go, we cannot solidify the bond. Any interactions
like this’ll just make it harder to split!” You plead and he tightens around
you.
“I never-“ He whispers into your ear while stroking your hair. It’s relaxing
and it takes all your will power to continue to relent against him.
“I never wanted….anyone…….to have to experience what I went through….”
You stand there silently and let the scent of his jacket seep into you. At
worst, you’d probably be desperate to see him at the very end of the week, doze
off after crying yourself to sleep, and then wake up feeling just sad and
alone. You weren’t sure the repercussions it would have on monsters, especially
weak ones such as Sans. He didn’t seem emotional to begin with. He was only so
open and non-jokey now likely because of the faint bond formed. It wasn’t a
solid one, so hopefully there wouldn’t be many issues. The best you could
likely do for him and yourself was create a gap between you both until it wore
off some.
Yet you can’t push him away now. His voice is laced with fatigue and sadness.
“It-….It could be worse. You had a nice place to grow up.”
“yep. ‘nder a rock.” You feel your face freeze and frown as he manages a slight
snicker.   
“You know what I meant.” You clarify and push him back and away from you. “H-
How are you feeling now?”
“eh, mostly jus’ like I need t’ hold somethin’. warm would b’nice.”
“So, anything small and warm would be fine?” You persistently ask and move away
from him. His eyes follow you though as his demeanor calms.
“alive’d b’nice…” He whispers and takes a step forward. You feel about the
study door and murmur the incantation carefully. If Sans learned it you don’t
doubt he would worm his way back in here.
“’ey….Rea?” His voice rolls in your ears and you force yourself to ignore it as
the door finally opens. You feel his presence behind you now as you scoop up
the one thing you were looking for.
“Here.” You plop Trip into his arms and his face looks stunned once more.
“Small, warm and alive. Now get out of my room before I have another emotional
breakdown I don’t want you near.”
Chapter End Notes
     Oh yeah.
     Trying to jump ahead 3 chapters and then deciding I dont want to; but
     then also not wanting to rewrite about HALF this chapter - AWESOME!!
     MORE FILLER!!!!
     Please don't hate me TuT
     Leave some comments if you don't hate me.
     I'd appreciate it~
     Here's_The_Official_Tumblr_Page_-_Stop_On_By_=D
***** That Fateful Christmas *****
Chapter Summary
     Merry Christmas and Happy New Year~
     Bye, 2017!
Chapter Notes
     HOLY FUCK I'M SORRY?!?!
     Work held onto me longer then I thought, and I had so many presents
     to hand make - all the hats and scarves fam, like GOD.
     Wanted to get this done for Christmas, but a lot happened and 'tis
     the season to spread illness~
     I hope everyone enjoyed the year, isn't freezing in my -6 degree
     weather, and will have a great start to next year!!
     Hit my up on Tumblr if you have any questions.
     Again, really sorry - It's a short chapter, but I wanted to let you
     all know I am alive, well, and this is not getting discontinued. I'm
     working on it, promise!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
You sniffle back the tears and snot as you ascend the mountain. Despite the
thick snow, the harsh wind, and the blurry storm, you climb. Nobody below would
miss you or need you – unnecessary presence was all you brought. A tall fire,
loud with laughter and cheer roared even from the distance you’d made. Even
past the pain and numbness, you preferred the cold to the scorching flame. The
laughter and cheer died on the pitching winds as you huddled further into the
light coat and fumbled through the snow.
At last, you reached a silent space. You’d discovered it about a year back – a
vast hole which, while emitting no heat or light, was free from snow or wind.
The majority of the branches surrounding the hole were treacherous and the
ground was unstable; you knew better then to near it. Yet your constant
curiosity continued to pull you right to the edge. The majority of the time, as
you gazed deeply into the endless dark, you’ve thought about plummeting down. A
pit seemed nicer then the company of those who only glared down and cast you
aside. You sighed and leaned back; it wasn’t a good idea- you liked being alive
even if it was in a sense. Sitting cross legged against the one sturdy branch
you confided in you lay back against the grass and gaze at the overhead snow
storm that seemed miles away.
Past the muffled laughter, the freezing winds cries, and your own heartbeat and
demure thoughts; a song. Jumping in surprise and nearly slipping into the dark
void, you peer around for prying eyes. Toning the rest of the world out, you
focus on the kind and gentle voice. A hum if anything – it was in the earth.
You pressed your ear against the soil and grass, letting it tickle at your ear
as you listened and leaned closer. Mimicking the hum, words that mimicked
garble in your brain simply ushered out. The darkness faded, and a systematic
channel down glowed with golden light. You gasped and repelled back out of fear
and anticipation as your heart thrummed faster.
A gasp; not your own.
“H-Hello?” A timid voice called back. The snow and laughter grew silent as you
crawled tentatively towards the hole. Cautiously, you peeked beneath a branch.
A plot of golden buttercups as bright as the sun rested in a vibrant green
patch of grass. It was centered in an almost marble white stone that lost its
shimmer as the darkness swallowed the rest invisible to your eyes. Peering past
the root, you saw him.
A goat was the closest thing to relate their bipedal appearance. Despite the
distance, you could make out the tiniest features; green glimmering eyes, tiny
fangs, the freshly knit green and daisy yellow sweater. Curiosity parallels to
you on his face as you lean against the sturdy branch.
“Hello?!” You shout back down and watch their face glow with joy. They drop
their little basket of flowers and focus all attention to you.
“Howdy! I’m Asriel! A-Are you a hu-human?” His joyful mirth suddenly diminishes
into shyness as you lean over.
“Um, hi! Uh, y-yes, I’m human….I think?” You mutter.
“What was that?” He yells back up – the distance and blizzard muffles plenty of
his words when he isn’t speaking up.
“I said I think I am human!” You yell back which bounces with an echo. He
shushes you and looks off towards the distance you can’t see.
“D-Don’t say it so loud! The guards are nearby.” He says back.
“But you shouted.” You grumble.
“That doesn’t matter ––– stars my SOUL nearly jumped outta me.” He sighs with a
chest heave.
“Your what?”
“Y’know, the thing that is the center of life?”
“You mean myour heart?” You point at your chest.
“No, your SOUL, silly! Golly, so it is true!” He flops down into the patch of
flowers as you rest against the branch in wonder. This bizarre creature, while
clearly not human, was talking to you. Smiling at you. Nobody had ever done
that; it was welling a tender feeling in your heart.
“What’s true?” You ask curiously.
“That humans don’t really utilize their SOUL! You don’t even know what it is!”
He explains rather brazenly as you pout.
“Well, what’s it to you?”
“It’s taught in school, but we grow up knowing it! The SOUL is the source of
monster magic and the cultivation of our being. Magic is our being, and we are
made of the prime elements of a soul – thusly, monsters are what you would
define as ‘Pure’!” He tangents as you lock eyes with him.
“You’re a monster? I thought that was just legend.”
“I heard about that too. A lot of books and debris winds up in the water, and
it makes it down here. The pages might get washed away, but I can still tell
that monsters have only become a myth to humans…” He sighs and looks
downtrodden.
“….I’ll-……I’ll tell them!” You shout down. His eyes widen and sparkle with the
moonlight – its tender, yet vibrant. “I’ll tell my village! I’ll tell the
world! You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met – why do you deserve to be in
this-this-this hole?!” You add on.
“I’m…..I’m the nicest person you’ve ever met?” Red tints his white cheeks as
your face heats up.
“Uh, well, y’know, ‘cause, um-“ You mutter on as he catches you with “What did
you mean?”
“Well, um, you’re just n-nice, and not many pe-“ “I meant when you weren’t
human. Are you, like, a hybrid?” His head tilts; it’s clear he is redirecting
the awkward conversation as you solemnly take the hint.
“Well, uh, I-I have….y’know?” You point to your hair and face.
“What? Hair?”
“No, ugh, my-my appearance.” You grumble and hide in your hands.
“What’s wrong with your appearance?”
“I-I’m not supposed to h-have white hair or-or these weird eyes! And I can do
things!” You shout back down while he shushes you again. He squints and sighs.
“I can’t see it well because the light or whatever is shadowing you!”
“The light?” You turn upwards and spot the glimmering moon. “Oh, the moon.”
“That’s the moon?!” He gasps and jumps to his feet.
“…Yes?”
“It’s HUGE!!!” He screams and gapes with a smile. You shush him this time as he
clamps his paws over his mouth; his eyes never leave the orb in the sky. You
bite your lip and peer around on the surface – there were plenty of hearty
trees with vines cascading down. You press off the branch, mind buzzing with
thoughts as an adrenaline takes hold of your limbs. Knots are tied with your
numb fingers working nimbly to strengthen the line. You hear Asriel echo up to
you a few times as you tug the vines around the tree. Testing the grip and
lasting adrenaline, you hurl the vines length down the hole.
“Ow!” Asriel sounds out after a dull thud echoes up. You wince at your idea,
but you already are putting faith in your grip as you near the edge.
“Oh this is a bad idea.” You murmur as you give it a final test tug.
“What the stars is this-“ Asriel tugs the other end of the vines and the
opposite force pulling downward slips you free of the roots edge. Your hands
graze hard against the vine as you scream in horror and Asriel screams along
with you. Palms burnt and itchy, you land and fall backwards into a patch of
petals flying up and fluttering back down into your face. You groan and hiss as
you lurch up and inspect your hands – cuts and rough burnt patches cover them
as you hum in agony. A fuzzy hand presses against your shoulder as you whip
about to come face to face with him. Up close, his snout and mouth were
somewhat connected, emerald eyes twinkling with fascination and cheeks a plush
rose red.
“Golly….” He whispers and covers his snoot. You blush and untangle some petals
from the unkempt hair you’d bothered to grow out and hide your face. He halts
your actions and gazes into your eyes with wonder.
“You’re so pretty..” His eyes calm and turn from tender to loving as your face
ignites with heat. In an instant, he mimics you perfectly and lets both hands
fly upwards to the sides of his face.
“UM, WELL, YKNOW, I MEANT, UH, YOU LOOK NICE, NO, WELL NO, NOT THAT YOU DON’T,
I MEAN, IN HUMAN STANDARDS, YKNOW, UM, OH GOLLY GOSH, EEEEHHHHH-“ He slumps
into a crouch and buries his face into his hands. You gaze about at the
relatively bland and monotone room, besides the path leading to a purple door
with some form of insignia. The moon bathes the golden field with a fainter
shade as you feel about the buttercups.
“They’re lovely. I haven’t seen anything this vivid bloom in the village.” You
offer your own deterrent from the awkward air. His green eyes peek past furry
paws and he lets his legs reach out to fiddle a flower between his toes. You
can’t resist staring in fascination at such a simple thing.
“So, is it always that big?” He leans back and comforts his head with his arms.
You copy his position to find him fixated on the moon.
“Not really thatbig. It’s just full tonight. Everyone thinks it’s a good omen
for the holiday.” You shrug and settle in – the flowers weren’t exactly warm,
but they also weren’t frigid grass and dirt.
“Holiday?” Asriels ears perk up.
“It’s Christmas.”
“Oh oh! I read a book about something like that! This weird human comes down
your chimney with presents right?!” He startles you with sudden enthusiasm and
joyous eyes as you snicker just a tad.
“Yeah, except…” You peek towards the door and shuffle closer to him, “Some kids
at my school are gossiping about how it’s all fake.” you whisper. He gasps and
covers his snout.
“But why?” He asks.
“I think it’s the parents who want their kids to believe in
something….fantastical? Magical?”
“Like monsters?” His smile is broad and you roll your eyes and nudge him hard
with your elbow. He giggles and settles in again.
“So what actually happens on Christmas then?”
“Parents must give their kids the presents. I hear them always asking for
‘Santa’s Gift List’ anyways.”
“Couldn’t you just ask your parents?.......Wait, why are you up the mountain in
this storm if it’s Christmas? Shouldn’t you be enjoying it too?” Concern knots
his eyebrows as you cradle your legs up tight. You defiantly look at the
marbled rocky floor.
“I’m a freak, Asriel. My parents don’t really like that they had me, so they
pretend I don’t even exist half the time. Because of how I look, how I am,
people are calling me a witch.” You clarify and let your nails dig into your
legs.
“My classmates pick on me, my teachers ostracize me, the neighbors-“ “Ostra-
what now?” He interrupts as you can’t resist glaring at him. Startled about,
concern fills his features as your eyebrows knot hard into your nose. You can
feel the frustrated tears brimming in your eyes as you finally take in his
worried expression. You let your hair hide your face as you press it against
your knees.
“I’m alone. I’ve got nobody. So this….you talking to me…….it’s my Christmas
wish come true, honestly.” You murmur. Loudly, you let a hard sniffle rake your
senses as you scrub your arm against your eyes. Your palms press against your
cheeks to dry them quick, but a tiny yelp comes from your voice as the tears
soak into the open cuts and blemishes from the vines. Lightly cursing under
your breath you fiddle with your pockets for fresh bandages. A warm, fuzzy hand
uptakes your hands as you look back to Asriel with a caring gaze. He looks to
your eyes for a moment; confirmation. When nothing is said, his focuses centers
back onto your hands as a green glow emanates from the conjoined palms. You
gape and nearly scream, but looking back onto his sweet eyes and calm aura, you
are lost to the silence. Minutes pass before he releases your hands from the
tingly glow. It fades as the pain has all but vanished; your hands are soft and
supple as never before.
“H-How-“ “I told you! Monsters are made of all the SOUL senses! That includes
Kindness – and Kindness can heal!” Asriel puffs his chest out triumphantly with
a wide proud smile. His eyes pop open as he grabs the basket of flowers. The
nails from his paws perfectly crochet the stems together as he hastily fashions
a little bracelet of buttercups for you. Slipping it around your wrist and
tying it off with a knot, he turns it about to let you bask in the flowers
fresh fragrance.
“What’s your name?” He quietly asks. Fresh tears brim at your eyes and warm
your cheeks as you bring your eyes to meet his green gaze.
“………..Grace.” You whimper out.
“Grace, Merry Christmas.” He smiles and pats your hand. So long; nobody had
said your name so softly and yet it echoed through your mind as the tears
poured down. You sniffle it in and fiddle with your pockets. Pulling free a
candy bar, you hand it to Asriel. Even if it was the last thing your savings
could buy, you knew this sweet person deserved it.
“M-Merry C-Ch-Christ-m-mas, Asriel.” You whimper out past a gagged sob. His
eyes get stars in them as he takes hold of the chocolate.
“Asriel?” The voice is preceded with a couple of heavy knocks. It is a deep and
rumbling voice; Asriels fur stands on edge.
“Uh, y-you gotta go!”
“Wha-“ No sooner are the words coming out of your mouth is Asriel shoving the
vine back into your hands.
“My-My dads coming! I-I don’t know how he’d be with a human being down here. Go
talk things out with your folks, okay? You’re not weird- I think you’re cool!”
Asriel assures as he pats your back. You sniffle and rub clear your eyes. He
fixes up your coat as the knocks come heavier against the almost stone door.
“I- I’ll tell them, okay?” You whimper back down and he nods with assurance.
Focusing all your strength in your arms, you hastily climb the swinging vine.
Asriel must hold the end for you as it sway increasingly less the further up
you crawl. Finally hitting the sturdy root, you practically whip the vine up
and untie it from the tree, lest anyone else discover the hidden people. The
rumbling voice powers through the hole as you hear Asriel yell something back
in reply. You can’t resist cupping your hands together – something you’d
learned to do was channel your thoughts into a bubble. You focused every happy
and thankful fiber of your being into your mind as a pink and yellow slew of
bubbles flutter down into the hole. With a confident smile, you button up your
jacket, hide the bracelet, and trample down the snowy edge.
===============================================================================
 
===============================================================================
Christmas is over.
The town is shunning your parents even as you curl into a little bruised ball.
Even with the disdained eyes, the heavy scowls, and the hiding of their
children, you screamed the truth over the roaring fire. Of the sweet monsters
housed in the mountain who knew magic – who seemed to be more like you than any
of the villagers. They shouted names, threw stones, and angrily presented you
towards your parents.
They were less then pleased.
You could hear the laughing howls from beyond the walls; “There wasn’t anything
up there!” “Monsters aren’t real!” “Crazy little witch!” “Why do we tolerate
the little wench?!” “Lying family; the lot!”
“Am I crazy?” You murmur and huddle against your riggidy bed. A soft, velvet
touch presses against your wrist. Curious, you reel back the sleeve.
The bracelet, while dying, is still as vivid as his eyes.
Chapter End Notes
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