Welcome to Underground City - Khurious (2024)

Chapter 1: Tips Are Good, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“Alright, here’s your orders. Oh, excuse me. Pardon me. Look out Mister Doggo, I’m on your left.” You quipped, serving up your table’s order. The bar was pleasant tonight, the winter weather outside discouraging those from wandering around the city. A rather handsome fire elemental, known by all as Grillby, was pouring drinks left and right, placing them on trays for you to carry to their tables. You danced around the multiple tables and booths, completely in your element, serving everyone with your cheery smile. “Oh, here’s your shared plate you two love-pups.” You giggle as you set it in front of a lovely couple; Dogamy and Dogaressa. Their tails whipped against your pant legs, probably gonna have some white fur on them by the end of the night. “Thank you…” “...smells delicious!” Dogaressa and Dogamy chimed in, feeding each other a few fries from the basket.

This was your life now, working yourself to sheer exhaustion by the end of the night. It wasn’t that you minded, it allowed you to make money while making people; well, mostly monsters, happy. This table was your personal favorite, the royal guard to the Dreemurr family. Well, most of the royal guard at least. You have never met their captain or a few of the higher ranks. The lot of them were always dressed so nicely in a range of suits, varying really only by their ties. Each bore a royal crest cuff link or a lapel pin by their collars, quite recognizable around these parts. They always made you feel safe, heck, the group once even walked you home to your old apartment just after a week or two of knowing them. Must be your lovely charm.

Now though, you lived in a tiny apartment above the bar, across the hall from your boss. It’s only temporary, at least that’s what you tell yourself. The rents cheap; an employee discounted rate of course, you don’t have to travel for work, and you got to enjoy the city a bit more. After you walked into work with a slightly bruised arm from a guy that grabbed at you, Grillby offered you the upstairs apartment. He’s seemed to like your company, monsters have a pretty good judge of character. Something about the ability to judge souls using their magic. Too bad you couldn’t do that. You didn’t like it, but you always were a bit jealous that monsters could use magic. You did like living upstairs a lot though, usually your boss would let you grab a free burger or basket of fries to take upstairs; on especially good days, you two would share a bottle of wine while doing paperwork for the bar.

Although, you usually just watched and chitchatted, with Grillby doing most of the work. You appreciated his generosity, he helped you feel a bit safer in this crazy world. While Underground City wasn’t the most human friendly, as long as you kept your head down and weren’t seen as a threat, you could have an okay life here. You originally had plans to move to the human side of the city… but things just didn’t pan out. At least here you felt at home and your tips were usually quite nice, even though it's only been about six months or so since you started. You just had a friendly air about you that seemed refreshing to these monster customers, your guess is that they don’t always have the best interactions with your counterparts of Northside.

Carefully stepping around their weapons which were barely tucked under the table, you hand out the rest of the drinks; Greater Dog nuzzling into you as you pass by. You can’t help but smile and laugh, patting him on the head. In the corner of your eye you spot Grillby raise a hand, a signal for you to pick up the next tray of drinks. “Coming! I’ll be back in a bit guys!” They nod and smile, returning to their idle chatting and card game. The night was getting late and outside of the dog squad, your casual nickname for them, they room had just a few patrons here and there. Even Mr. Finn and Miss Scarlett; a fish guy and red bird lady monster, who usually stayed late had even left a few minutes ago. Grabbing the next tray of drinks, you quickly take them to the last filled booth. Just two gentleman, two humans, sat quietly drinking some whiskey and discussing quietly. These guys have been coming around a bit in the last two weeks, coming here every few nights for drinks. You never asked to avoid being rude, but just assumed they must have worked nearby seeing as their outfits usually had a bit of dirt to them.

“Gentlemen, here are the final rounds for the night, if you need anything just let me know!” You smile, but receive none in return. The men mumble and keep to themselves, their hats hiding their gazes. You slink away quickly, holding the tray to your chest. Humans anymore made you nervous, especially with the gang violence. You hated to admit it, but you were definitely more on the “side” of monsters than the humans. The monsters seemed to only just want to live their lives, run their businesses, and just have an equal opportunity in life. To humans though, monsters were always going to be second class. Not all humans thought this, but those who did were often considered outcasts… like yourself. With a sigh, you return to the bar and place down the tray. Grillby glanced over at you, and despite the lack of facial markings, you always found it easy to read him.

“Oh, I’m okay. Just’a busy night, especially with the chill outside.” You smile and wave off his worry, but in the back of your mind those humans worried you. Maybe they weren’t there to cause trouble? Just here to detox from a stressful day, yeah, that’s all. A soft clink of glass caught your attention and you found a small glass of water poured in front of you. You suppress a giggle, “Oh boss, I thought you couldn’t touch the stuff.” You teased, but gulped down the water quickly. The soft, airy chuckle of Grillby caused your cheeks to flush lightly. You step a bit closer to him, enjoying his warm aura as you gather the cleaning supplies to wipe down the tables. Your uniform was similar to his, except you lacked the black satin vest he wore. You even had matching bow ties, though his was properly tucked into the collar of his shirt, while yours was around your neck like a choker. He was adamant about the placement at first, but with a little pushing you were able to keep it where you wanted.

Your customers seemed to love the risqué side of you, a rare treat during these times. On nights when it's warmer you even started to unbutton your dress shirt to reveal some cleavage. What could you say, you were daring for a bit of spice in your life. Thankfully at the bar no one seemed to mind this behavior, but out on the streets you would definitely cover up. The act of being indecent quite looked down upon in this era, even some monsters held a similar standard that humans did. You were very happy that Grillby seemed more relaxed about it, maybe a bit more flustered at times when you teased him, but maybe it came with the territory of the night scene. “Oh, could you make me a small order of fries to take upstairs? Or if there’s just leftovers in the basket, would you mind if I took them home?” You questioned as you sat up, grabbing the cleaner from under the bar.

Grillby gave you a look as he sat down the glass he had been wiping. Of course he didn’t mind, he never did. He never gave you old food either, willing to make you a fresh batch. You smile and wink, wandering over to the dogs as Grillby leaves to make your fries just the way you like them. “So, who won this time?” You chime in as you grab empty baskets, plates, and glasses. Lesser Dog perked up, tail wagging like crazy, pawed hand waving in the air. “Nice one Lesser Dog, it's been a bit since you won.” The other dogs seem to sneer as Lesser Dog playfully growls at you, but you quiet him with soft pats on the head. They gather their stuff and clear out, taking their various weapons from under the table, as you clean off the top. Apparently they could have dispelled their magical weapons at anytime, but as they are the guard after all they usually just keep them around. You slip their deck of cards into your apron, its permanent home while the dogs returned home every night. Oh! In the heart of the table they left a tip, roughly 30 gold pieces by your guessing. Not bad, usually they just put their tip on the tab and Grillby paid you it whenever he collected tabs.

Turning about, you catch eyes with the two humans; the only customers left, seeming to fidget as the dog guard left through the front door. You gather the table’s dirty dishes in a bus bin, placing them by the kitchen door. Rule of thumb, either you or Grillby had to stay in the front at all times, prevented any sticky business behind your backs. Quickly you move about, cleaning counter-tops and placing any dirty dishware to the side for cleaning. As your back was turned you heard the two gentlemen leave, the door closing noisily behind them. Walking back to their table you gather their empty drinks and collect their pay, ugh, they never tipped you. While you appreciated their business, a tip from a customer always helped motivate you. Grillby didn’t pay that bad actually, you got by each month with some extra cash. The rest honestly went into your bills and a smidgen into savings.

A ringing in the kitchen caught your attention, as well as some muffled talking. Your boss was probably speaking on the phone, on the rare occasions that he does so. Every few nights he has friends, you assume at least, stop by for a few drinks while the bar was closed. You were usually long since passed out on your mattress, the nights of running around like crazy often taking a toll on you. Stepping forward you start shutting down the bar; turning off the welcome sign, locking the front door, drawing blinds, etc. Shutting down was super easy compared to opening. Yawning, you stretch and take a seat at the bar. Your feet were definitely getting sour, crud, did you have to dip into your savings to get new ones?

Grillby came back to the bar, setting down a basket of freshly made fries all wrapped up in a to-go box. The wafting smell in the air churned your stomach. “Oh awesome, thanks Boss!” You give him a chipper smile, quick to snatch one before you continued to work. Grillby held up his hand, waving a small piece of paper. “You're… running to the shop now? Isn’t it a bit late?” You question, standing to grab the broom. He nodded, his flames dying down a bit; apparently he didn’t want to go either. “Go ahead, I’ll keep cleanin’ up.” You shoo him off as you start to sweep. “But hey it’s snowing out, be sure to bundle up!” He shakes his head at you and proceeds to do so, even though you didn’t have to remind him. You literally freaked out the first time you saw him flinch when a rather large snowflake fell onto his face. It steamed away and left a small ashy mark behind. Now he was wrapped up pretty well; face mask, hat, gloves, large leather jacket, the works! All because of your pestering. You wave goodbye and lock the door behind him, only after he produced the key to get back in. Okay, you were a bit anal at times about his and the bar's well being, but you always just wanted to be sure that everything was okay.

You busied yourself; sweeping, mopping, getting as much dirty work done as possible in the front. Proudly, you stood before the bar room, all surfaces shiny. Pumped, you walk over to the jukebox and turn it off, the last thing you always did before wrapping up the nights. Well, that and turn off the pretty neon sign behind the jukebox. Honestly you were so glad he got the music box all fixed up, it really helps pass the time. You even caught him humming to the music once, swaying along as he wiped down glasses. Although, as soon as you spied him doing so, your cheeky grin giving you away and he flushed a deep blue on his cheeks. You kind of regretted catching him, because he then went silent and resuming his work with a bit more focus.

Now though, the whole place was silent except for the dishwasher running in the kitchen. Most restaurants and pubs alike don’t have dishwashers. As in the machines, but have humans instead. Too bad for them, because having a boss made of fire made the dish washing part of the job so much easier. He didn’t do dishes by hand due to necessity, while you didn’t do them because screw having pruned hands! Grabbing the bus bin and carefully taking it to the back, you sit it against the counter next to the machine. Well, now just to wait you figure. Grillby had pretty much everything cleaned up in the back; cutting boards away, the counter tops cleaned, ingredients prepped for the next day, the-oh!

Before you was the trash from the day. Usually the old fireball would take it out for you since it was heavy, but seeing how the day was relatively slow; the bag seemed easy enough to manage. Hefting the bag up, you carefully drag it over to the back exit. Hm, you should probably mop the back for him too. Looks like he swept already while he was talking on the phone. The door creaked open as you shoved your shoulder into it. The wind and snow causing a bit of friction, but with another shove the door swings open wide enough for you and the bag to fit through. Stepping forward into the blinding street light, you heave the trash bag-

“Now!”

You scream, echoing into the darkness of the alley.

Your body is enshrouded by ice cold water, your skin burning and screaming as your nerves didn’t know what to do, what to even comprehend had just happened. Something hard slams against your face, cutting you above your left eye and busting your nose. Dazed and in pain, you stumble, slipping as you drop the garbage bag. You can’t focus. The world is spinning, your heart slamming into your chest. You fall, falling against the brick wall behind you. There was noises of metal, shouting and swearing of men. The world around you blurs. You couldn’t see, blinded as water and blood drip down your face, hindering your sight. There’s a far away sound of sirens. The sounds of slamming car doors and screeching tires echo into the night. You couldn’t move, paralyzed by the pain and the freezing temperatures. Out of sheer force of will, you crawl through the exit and slid your way back inside. You lean against the inner wall of the kitchen exit, trembling from the frost and the fear.

In your last moments of consciousness you tried to reach the phone on the wall, but you were unable to move, hand just falling to your side. Your legs felt like gelatin. Your muscles unable to stop spasming and despite your best effort, you can’t regain control. Had you passed out in the alley, you would surely have died in the cold. At least the kitchen still had some lingering heat to it. Your mind started to nod off and you head starting to bob. Maybe, maybe just a short rest... could get you through until... until Grillby got... back… yeah… he was, at the store right, yeah… the store…please hurry…Grillby...

Chapter 2: Meetings are Interesting, Sometimes

Chapter Text

A flicker of light travelled down the darkness draped streets, making its way back to work. He mumbled to himself, grumbling as he juggled the grocery bag in his hand. Keys, keys, where… ah, there they are. He opened the front door and slid through, letting it quietly close behind him. He didn’t want to risk waking you up since your apartment was right above the bar entrance. He walked quickly to the bar and set down the bag. All he had to do was brew the water in the kettle, set up the cups, maybe prep a light appetizer, then every...thing...? To his surprise, he found cold fries in a to-go bag behind the bar, your fries, that you didn’t take with you? How odd, you never waste your food. A chill went through him and his flames flickered, this wasn’t normal of you.

The bar was silent and so was the kitchen. So it wasn’t like you were still down here cleaning up. He removed his outer winter wear and hung them to dry on the hooks beside the kitchen…door. Your apron wasn’t hanging on your hook. That unsettling feeling filled him again and he stormed into the kitchen, shouting your name. He was welcomed by silence, everything was untouched, no sign of a struggle. He stepped forward carefully, looking for any sign that you were there. As he rounded the corner of the stainless steel counter top, he froze, flames nearly snuffing out as his gaze fell. He found you; bloodied, stilled, and nearly blue. Your name passed through his lips in a near whisper.

The sound of panicked footsteps brought you back to slight consciousness. You were numb, unable to move even your fingers… or open your eyes. “G...g...ri...llb...by…?” You struggled to say, voice trembling and raspy. Burning, there was a burning sensation on your face and your body naturally whipped back, yelping at the stinging sensation. “What, how? Are you...well, obviously not, but, just...what happened?” His presence was warm and you leaned towards him, but not close enough to touch. You attempt to open your eyes once more, but find that it feels like they are pinned shut. “...tra...trash...wa...ter...”

Warmth wrapped around you and you felt your body be lifted. Whimpers slipped through your lips, dizziness smacking you silly. He held you tightly, moving about. Unable to see, you just let him move you, giving into the heat as it slowly bloomed life into you. With that life, came pain. Your face must have been swollen, it felt so heavy and puffy. You struggled to breath from your nose, instead used your mouth. The warm air filling your lungs burned at first, but it was pleasant once the sensation dissipated. The stinging of the cut above your left eye had dulled to a raw throbbing. He stopped suddenly and you curled further into him, sleep starting to wash over you. There was a quiet, fading ringing, or maybe… that was just you.

“‘sup grillbz. i told ya were gonn-”

“Sans.” Grillby cut him off, the skeleton stiffening. Well, someone wasn’t in a bright mood. At first Sans thought it was static, but it was the sound of fire on the other end which crackled loudly. There was an airy sigh on the other end and shifting. “Bring Papyrus and the boss... Grillby’s… was hit.” Sans tensed as his bones started to rattle out of confusion and anger. Hell, if he was mad, the boss was going to be furious. “uh, yeah, i’ll bring them asap. what happened.” He demanded rather than questioned. The flame on the other end spoke quickly all he knew; the human he hired had been attacked sometime while he was gone, ironically picking up items for the meeting tonight. When he had returned he found you by the back door; beaten, bloodied, and cold to the touch. “sh*t, is the kiddo with you now?” Sans asked as he saw his brother enter the room.

Papyrus looked over at his brother as he adjusted his suspenders, they always pestered him at the worse of times. “Brother! Boss asked if-” He paused as he noticed Sans face; sweat and stress written all over it. “Uh, Sans? What’s-” He was cut off by Sans holding up a bone finger and Papyrus sat down quietly on the couch, patiently waiting. “yeah. no, stay there. lock all doors. it’s notta problem, bro’s comin’ too, yeah, for the girl.” Papyrus perked up, confusion across his face as Sans turned towards him. “grillbz, we’ll be there in fifteen. be careful.” He hung up the phone, returning it onto the wall mount. Sans was quick to light his cigar, taking in a deep drag. “Brother, you never have me come with when Boss and you speak at that grease joint. Why…?” Sans huffed, grabbing his coal colored trilby from off the rack. “well bro, seems like we have a bit of a boner on our hands.” The exasperated sigh from his brother lightened the mood a bit, “i’ll explain what i know on the way. let’s get the boss and go.”

It smells like…cinnamon…oak...whiskey…

It feels like…leather…satin...warmth...

It taste like...blood?

You jolt, your body heaving up from a lying position. Confusion washes over you, as well as vertigo. You swear quietly and hold your head in your heads. The cloth on you falls forward and you suddenly feel cold crawl across your chest. Oh dear, where’s your shirt?! You grab forward ahead of you, grasping at the air. You pull the, the jacket you think, up to cover your front. Your throat hurts, feeling dry. Actually… everything hurts and aches to some extent. At least you were warm now. There’s a “fwooshing” sound followed by quick steps. The heat in the air before you becomes hotter. The welcoming sounds of crackling fire greet you and you can’t help but smile, be it a bit strained. “G-Grillby? You’re back! You’re here!” You launch forward with a wide arm and embrace him in an awkward hug. He huffs at the sudden impact, his flames dancing across your skin. You feel tears threaten to fall, the situation quite overwhelming for you.

“...what happened?” His voice merely a whisper above your head. You pause for a moment, basking in the warmth. “I, I took out the trash. I know you usually do it and all, but it was slow today and so easy to lift… I...I opened the door and stepped outside. I think I was tossing it in the dumpster when suddenly I was soaked… ugh, it was so cold! There was shouting and a car speeding away. Something hit me in the...face…?” You question as you softly touch your face, you could feel grooves and cuts as well as swelling around your eyes. Grillby didn’t speak, only the sounds of crackling filling the air. You attempt to open your eyes, but flinch. Yup, still too sore. You feel a heated hand rest on your eyes and you nearly purr, the heat relieving the pressure and swelling.

There was a muffled jingling of keys outside and the front door opened. You grabbed at Grillby, your head whipping towards the front, despite being unable to see. You were fully alert, muscles tensed to flee. Had those people come back? Grillby pats your shoulder and you hear him shift into a standing position, your arms wrapped around your chest. Was he going to protect you? What if they brought weapons! You pull the jacket up higher and across yourself like a blanket to avoid the oddly scented draft. You were startled a bit by the warm smell in the air. Was that… marshmallows? There’s steps, multiple clicks of heels in fact, and the door closes with a soft click. “‘ey grillbz, where’s the kid?” Wait, you’ve heard that voice before. Sometimes you hear it after the bar closes and you’re getting ready for bed. It’s your boss’s friend. You lean forward, poking your head around the corner of the booth. “H-Hello…?” Stillness filled the air, but it cracked with a voice mumming the quiet. “Human! You look all broken! Let me help you!” What a lovely compliment.

Loud stomping of boots hurt your ears as you felt a sudden looming presence in front of you. You slide back a bit, nervousness biting at you. You hear Grillby softly speak your name and ask you to not move. You sit still, feeling a tingling sensation on your face. It has to be magic, you assume, having felt this feeling once or so before. There’s movement of two others, or maybe three, and shifting of seats at the bar. “Grillby,” the sultry voice sends a chill down your back, just who was that? “Who dares attack my property?” the voice speaks rather venomously. Woah, what? Wasn’t this place Grillby’s? As in, belonging to Grillby? There’s clicking of glass behind the bar, the sounds of drinks being poured.

“...someone tried to murder me.” It was Grillby who replied, his voice hauntingly steady. You choke on air, coughing slightly as the sudden realization slamming you in the chest. Those attackers, they had planned to literally snuff Grillby’s fire! The air grew thick and heavy with tension. “Explain.” There was shifting of clothing and fizzling of flames, glasses clinking lightly on the bar in multiple spots. Was he really passing around drinks, like, right now? “When I found her, she was drenched, chilled to the bone by the back door. I believe whoever attacked doused her with water, which would have greatly weakened my ability to fight back with my magic.” There were sounds of fire swooshing in the air, probably Grillby emphasising his point. Not really something you considered before, Grillby’s magic. All monsters have magic, heck, from what you’ve been told monsters literally are their magic. Maybe it was too obvious that Grillby’s magic was fire based, afterall, that’s what he is. Living flame. “Routinely, I am the one to remove trash from the back.” Grillby hesitates for a moment before he continues, “Incidentally sir, I ran out of your favorite tea and left the bar in her hands. If I had stayed back and was, snuffed out so to speak, I have no doubt that, well, I wouldn’t be here now. Leaving… saved my life... but almost at the cost of her own.” The pressure eased away on your eyes and you finally were able to slowly open them, blinking them a few times to get them into focus.

All eyes were on you, well, eye sockets more or less. Three skeletons and your boss, their attention all on you. Rather dapper skeletons at that. Each of them had their own unique style, but each wore really nice dress pants, dress shirts, black ties, and nice shoes. The bubbly, smiling one stood before you with it’s gloved hand still glowing a faint green magic at his side. He wore black suspenders holding up his pants. “Ah! Human! Can you see now?” He quipped, “I am most proficient in healing magic, I shall have you know!” Proudly he posed before you, quite comically. “pap, keep it down a bit. kid’s probably gotta nasty headache.” chipped in the shortest one wearing a dark velvet vest and trilby hat. He was leaning back against the bar counter, smoking a cigar. Ah, that was the smell from the draft, quite aromatic and oddly calming.

Although, out of all the skeletons monsters before you, the most intimidating sat in front of Grillby. This one was drinking a glass of wine, legs crossed in an elegant manner, his gaze placid and unchanging. Was his skull, cracked? Right above the lip and eye? It was hard to tell under the brim of his fedora. He wore a white crisp suit with a high collar dress shirt underneath it, not the best choice when drinking red wine. “Yes, I can see now. Um, thank you...uh…?” Thrusting a gloved hand before you, not glowing anymore, the tall one cut you off. “I am Papyrus! It’s a pleasure to meet you human!” You shake his hand, clutching the jacket to your still naked chest. “Over there is my dear brother, Sans, and this is our boss! Be sure to show him the greatest of respect!” His grin was quite contagious that you can’t help but smile a bit. You look around, obvious confusion crossing your face. “Um, nice to meet you too…?” You smile softly at them. Sans gives a quick wave back while blowing out smoke, was he snickering at you? Or was that just the way he held the cigar? Boss, he... well…

He sips his wine.

He places the wine glass down on the bar and sighs, “Did you see who attacked you?” His voice was the deepest of the three, his natural intimidation escaping him with every breath. You can see why he’s the boss. “Well?” Oh, yeah, he asked you something didn’t he. You shook off the nervous feeling in your core and acknowledge him. “I...can’t say for sure. It’s just a gut feeling, but, Grillby, I think it was those two guys. You know, that sit in the front booth? I mean, I have no proof but...” Grillby hummed under his breath, nodding as you speak. He must have had the same suspicions. Humans aren’t a completely rare thing to see at the bar, but those guys have been consistently appearing every Sunday at eight in the evening and were always the last to leave. Same orders every time; just two or three drinks, no food, with little talking between the two. It was as if they were here to scope out the place, at least that's what you speculated. They weren’t friendly for the matter to the other customers, nothing too odd, but when you're from around these parts you always tried to stay in the good graces of others. Humans are the minority here. Keep your head down, your friends near. You don’t make yourself a target.

The relationship between man and monster has never been very positive, rarely a time there wasn’t something negative appearing in the papers. There were scuffles, fights over political powers, heck, even fights as to where the monsters can even live. The racial tension always a buzz on the news, especially with the gang violence and turf wars. From what you’ve seen, monsters always ended up being the target. Businesses and homes trashed by humans trying to kick them out of a city already made for monsters. You… had been like those other humans before, but you don’t entirely blame yourself. You were a product of your family's beliefs and the culture around you in Northside. Once you changed this belief you found yourself homeless, couch surfing between the few friends which would take you in. Although monsters weren’t always guilt-free, at times they did start a fight or the very least fought back. Usually when there was good intentions, like protecting family or businesses. Those that did typically never saw the light of day again; either jailed, and at times even put to death. Humans are the top dog with the common enemy of monster kind. This caused all hate humans have to be focused on them, rather than each other. Mankind seems to always want to put other down, as long as they ended up on top. It's a tough world out here. At times you still don’t even know why Grillby gave you a chance, but you are thankful for it every day. You hope your service and friendly demeanor make up for it, as little as it may mean to him in the long run.

There was movement within the bar that caught your attention, breaking you of your downward spiral of self-hatred. The boss turned towards Sans, giving him a slight nod. Sans jumped down off the bar stool, if you had to estimate you would say the tip of his head came to your chin. He deposited his nearly finished cigar in the bar’s ashtray, and a shiver proceeded down your spine. His left eye sparked into a cyan blue, flourishing with powerful magic, while the other darkened similar to his brother’s open gaze. He stepped forward twice, then in a blink of your eyes, he was gone. Well, you’ve witnessed magic before, but nothing like that. “Woah!” You let slip and there was an exaggerated sigh from Papyrus. “Really Brother? The alley is like, ten steps away! That lazybones!” He crossed his arms in defeat, taking a seat at the table across from you. The table where the dogs usually sit. Their was a beat of silence, before Grillby spoke your name once more. “Do you remember which glasses belonged to them?” For a moment you didn’t quite understand, but the nod of his head towards the busbin caught you up to speed. “Oh, yes actually, they were last table to leave.” You stood quickly, flushing in embarrassment as the cold tickled your sides. Right, no shirt.

Huffing to yourself; as if that would help calm you down, you strode over to the bins, doing your best to ignore the heat on your cheeks. You pulled over two bins, taking a look inside. There were beer mugs, a few shot glasses, plates, baskets, where are...ah, there they are! Two pint glasses nestled in the back, just where you placed them. As you reach forward, you feel a sudden sensation of fabric against your back. A large skeletal hand with a hole through the center grasped your wrist, freezing all movement. The bones weren’t as rough as you thought they would be, but rather like a heavy velvet; slightly soft to the touch, an odd warmth to them. In any matter, the hand caused the hairs on your arms to fret as goosebumps formed. Or perhaps, it was caused by the breathing just inches from your ear. Your arm was willed to your side as you stood frozen in place.

A gasp slipped past your lips as you felt an odd pulsation above you. Deep purple, almost black, phantom hands materialized before you. With ease they reach into the bin, picking up the glasses by their rims. Oh of course, you should have figured. They didn’t want you leaving anymore fingerprints behind. Would tamper with evidence and what not, right? The hands float past your face and out of your sight. “Well done, my dear…” he spoke calmly, a slight rumble to his voice, and his presence was gone. Your knees nearly buckle as you use the counter for support. Turning back around, to you surprise you found, Sans was it? Relaxing at the bar, with a… tin tub? “Oh! Was that what hit me?” You question as you take a step towards it, looking inquisitively. Sure enough, there was a bit of blood splatter on the rim. Your blood. “Damn.” You mutter quietly to yourself.

“yeah, this thing nearly had you kick the bucket .” Is...is he serious right now? Was that a wink? For a split second you're appalled, but can’t help that your lips twitch, betraying you. You giggle, hiding your face behind your hand with defeat. “Yeah...heh, guess you'd be right about that.” He seemed to like that, the others weren’t into a joking manner. Considering the seriousness and the near death experience you had, you shouldn’t be either. Maybe that bucket gave you brain damage. “found this outside. as well as some cigarettes and tire marks headed west.” He waved the bagged proof in his hand. “Excellent work Sans,” Boss sat up fully from his seat, leaving his glass behind. “Now, boys, I believe we have some work to do. Let’s leave for the night.” Papyrus shut up from his chair, dashing towards the door, “I’ll have River start up the car!” Sans sauntered after him, waving to Grillby. While at the door,he smirks over to you. “Night kiddo, make sure you don’t catch a chill.”

Was he teasing you? Boss whispered something to Grillby and stepped forward to stand before you. Grillby flames flared with obvious surprise written on his face. What had he been told? Wait, pay attention! “Oh uh, thank you again for having Mister Papyrus heal me. I do feel better.” You feigned a smile and gaze falling to the floor, ignoring the shudder down your spine. Think before you speak, you chidded yourself. “Um, oh! Have a goodnight, Mister uh, Boss. Sir.” Nailed it. His stark white fingers grab your chin with a surprising amount of force and you were compelled to look up at him. The sudden eye contact causing you to have momentarily dizzy spell, you use your hand to brace yourself against the counter behind you. His chuckle vibrates through his hand, your chin trembling slightly. His calm facade changed to a sly smile as he loomed over you.

“My dear, call me Mister Gaster.”

Chapter 3: Drinking is Fun, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Grillby stood at the front door, locking it into place with his key and locking the deadbolt into place. Turning around he spots you, sitting at the bar, head resting in your arms. His jacket now wrapped correctly around you. He made his way back to the bar, settling in his usual position. You rest, unmoving. He offered to walk you to your room a bit ago, but you didn’t want to be alone. Today, well tonight, was just too much. His movements catches your attention as you lift your head. He was pouring juice and liqueur into martini glasses, then offering you one of the two. You recognized this one, a Cape Cod; a mix of cranberry and vodka with a lime wedge. The taste of it always reminded you of that fruity cereal. You huff an airy laugh and grab the glass. “...cheers?” He nods, clinking your glass against his. You take one large gulp, coughing a bit as the vodka hits your throat. It burns.

“sh*t, boss… just... what was all that about?” You confess, feeling the heat of your face return, and not because of embarrassment. Whew, he made it strong. There’s a loud sound of fire flaring up with a loud hiss. You glance over to Grillby, taking another gulp of your own. The instant his, uh, lips? The instant his lips touched the glass and he started to gulp down the drink, you couldn’t suppress the laugh. Steam… STEAM was coming out from his mouth as he wiped it with the back of his hand. Smoky wisps making him look like a comically angry bull. “Holy sh*t-” you hold your sides, letting the empty glass rest on the table. “Okay,” you gasp for air, “warn me next time!” He shook his head, chuckling to himself. You never saw that happen to him before, and this wasn’t the first time you two drank together. Wait, had he done that on purpose? “Jerk, you’re an awesome jerk.” You stick your tongue out at him. Childish of you, yeah, but you needed this right now. It feels good.

“So, Grillby, Mister Gaster is… your boss?” You hesitate, downing a bit of your next drink as he continues to make sure both of you are thoroughly provided for. You feel a smidgen of lightheadedness, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Thankfully the bar is closed tomorrow and Tuesday, at least you wouldn’t have to work with a hangover. Grillby pauses and lowers his glass, the slight tint of indigo on his face revealing he was making his drinks even stronger than yours. “...Yes...and no.” You lean in, chin resting on the bar. Curiosity definitely reflects in your eyes since Grillby begins to shift about nervously, or maybe he was swaying from the alcohol. “...You see, I needed assistance opening the bar when I first started up,” You nod, showing you are paying attention, “I’ve known Gaster for a long time, years in fact, so I signed a contract with him.” He starts to swirl the drink in his hand, looking a bit spaced out. “I get to operate my bar...he takes a portion of the revenue. I get protection from humans harassing my building...he gets a distribution point out…” You sip your drink in anticipation, Grillby’s flames burn a bit brighter as he recollects. “I get to have the life I always dreamed of…and his associate, Sans,” He pauses, fire crackling quietly as he gulps down the last bits of his drink. Suddenly, he rather roughly sets his glass down on the bar with a loud clank, flames snapping loudly. “...he doesn’t have to pay his f*cking tab.”

“SANS!”

The snoring skeleton jolts awake from the back seat, his hat falling onto his lap. “huh? wha?” He looks over to his left to find Papyrus staring down at him from outside the car’s window, arms on his hipbones. Oh, they were already home. He shifts, sticking his hat back on his head, crawling out the car to head inside. “Brother, shall I make us a late night dinner? I am rather hungry after using so much magic! That human’s injuries were quite extensive!” Sans nods along following his brother, throwing a glance behind him to see Gaster speaking with River by the car. Gaster was speaking quietly, making small hand gestures as the driver nods along. He couldn’t read River’s expression; their face hidden by their newsy cap and black cloth mask. Hell, after all these years he didn’t even know if River was a guy or a lady. Not that it mattered, he just knew that they were an excellent driver who's been around since he was a little bonehead. Heck, when Pap’s was just a babybones River would drive them around for hours to lull him asleep. Long trips, even now, make he and Papyrus fall asleep while travelling, but only when Gaster wasn’t around. That would be too unprofessional of them, but River P. Erson would never rat on them to the boss. River’s just too cool to for that.

Shaking his head, Sans followed after his brother into the extravagant compound they called home. On the outside, this place didn’t look too special, blending in with the surrounding buildings along the waterfront. That is, until you enter the building and find that the home mirrors the lavishness of a grand hotel. Crystal chandeliers grace the ceilings, scattering light through hanging gemstones creating tiny rainbows on the granite floors. Beautiful artwork and furniture decorate the internal heart of the home. Nothing spared from being ornate, that’s just Gaster’s style afterall. The brothers made their way to the kitchen, passing very few staff members on the way. Much of the day staff had left for the night or were retired to the sleep quarters on the second floor. “‘ey, one, two, the boss said they wanted to talk to you.” He speaks nonchalantly to the couple seating at the dining table. They nod, their iron masks clicking back and forth. “No problem Mister Sans, we will totally go, like, right away. Come’on Two.” One stands, offering his hand to his partner, who takes it. “...okay.” They leave hand in hand, with a skip in their step. Sans chuckles to himself, he remembers how nervous One was about asking Two out for the first time. He even asked Sans for some tips to woo Two over, not that it was needed, Two had liked One secretly for a while. Secretly being an exaggeration. Everyone could tell Two had a crush on One, that is, except One apparently. They got together what, a year ago now? Gez, time’s been flyin’.

His brother clatters around the kitchen, grabbing a large pot and filling it with water. Slinking over, Sans sits at the counter to watch his brother cook. “paps don’t you ever feel tired? you make me bone tired by proxy.” He stretches, bones creaking under the stress of his clothing. Papyrus turns around, kitchen utensil in hand. “That’s because I go out and train on my days off! Where as you like to stay home and do nothing!” He scolds Sans, harrumphing as he turned on his heel to deal with the boiling pasta. Sans shrugs, resting his head in his arms, tilting his hat down to cover his eye sockets. “nothin’ wrong...with doin’ nothin’, paps…” He teases as he starts to doze. Yeah, he was always doing “nothing” for Gaster, every damn day and night. Papyrus grumbles, turns to tell off his brother once more, but softens up when he sees how relaxed he is. Papyrus hesitates, but reaches into the cupboard, pulling out a glass bottle and places it beside Sans’s sleeping form. Sans’s arm snakes forward, pulling the bottle close to him like a teddy bear. Papyrus shakes his head, allowing his brother to rest while he cooks, quietly humming to himself, “ Ketchup on some sleep, Brother. Nyeh heh heh...”

“...Come on...Lift your leg, yes...now the next stair.” Is Grillby talking to you, or himself? Both of you are pretty tipsy, talking and drinking much of the last two hours away. It... helps. Helps forget that much worse could have happened to you. The liquor helps to shake these fears from your mind, but maybe helps clear your mind a bit too much. Now you're hanging off of your boss, your arms around each other as you both attempt to climb the stairs to the second floor. Manic giggling escapes you as you fall into Grillby as you both reach the last stair. You both nearly trip as you practically step over each other. “Grilllllllbyyyyy…is it hot in here... or is it just you~.” He groans, shaking his head. “...Four...” “Wait, wait, no, yes, BOSS!” You shout surprisingly loud and he sighs deeply, holding his head in his hand which wasn’t assisting you. You’re turning into a drunk little headache for him, but he was willing to deal. You’ve been through the worse of it tonight. You turn, pressing your breast into his vest covered chest, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes have a heavy heat to them, a soft unfocused gaze. You lean in, close to his shoulder. The blue hue deepens on his face as he adjusts his glasses nervously. “Boss…” You whisper seductively and practically moan, your breath steaming against his neck, “...isn’t this such… a TINDER MOMENT!”

…

“...Five.”

You both somehow make it to your apartment doors after a few minutes, where you hesitate, some clarity reaching your drunken mind. A moment of sobriety hits you and you look over your shoulder with despair dancing on your features. “H-Hey, Grillby…would it be okay... “ You rub the back of your head, leaning against your door with your back. “I don’t know… could I sleep on your couch or something? I don’t think I want to be alone.” He stands frozen with his door half open, foot one step inside. He’s seems to be contemplating the idea. You wave your hands frantically in front of you, “I-I mean, if it’s no trouble...I-I...uh, nevermind!” You nearly screech, turning about...only to run into your door face first. Right, you hadn’t opened it. A chuckle and crackle of fire bring you to attention as you rub your reddening forehead. He gestures towards his door with a wave of his hand, “Alright, wash up and come over.” He walks in further, keeping the door unlocked for you.

Giddly, you open your apartment door and step inside, immediately removing your shoes. Yup, your feet are screaming at you. You should have been out of those puppies hours ago. Your studio is pretty empty, you never had time to buy a lot of things to fill in the space. The kitchen pretty barren as well, since you usually just ate downstairs. Your true safe haven, your bathroom. Stepping inside, you strip off your...Grillby’s jacket. Right. You return to the living room/bedroom area and place the jacket on the bed. Hopefully you’ll remember to bring it over when you head to his place. The water in the shower takes a moment to heat up, so you move over to your dresser to find something appropriate to sleep in. When was the last time you even slept in clothing? Sighing, you dig out a short lavender nightgown from the bottom of the dresser, it would have to do. Would it be too revealing for that much thigh to show?

The heat of the water feels lovely on your skin. Traces of dirt, blood, and other remnants of the night disappear down the drain, your thoughts of the night going with them. You were going to have to be on your guard from now on, weren’t you. The shampoo washes slowly out of your hair as you stand under the water, arms crossed in thought. You should stay home all day tomorrow, and Tuesday too. Maybe you and Grillby could go to the store together once, it's been awhile since you went grocery shopping, to pick up necessities while you stayed hunkered in. He still had to shop for the bar anyway. He wouldn’t be too mad if you accompanied him...that’s if tomorrow you don’t have a severe hangover. Safer to travel together for a while.

You’re quick to wrap up your shower, still a bit on the ditzy side with the influence of alcohol. You dry your hair a bit, brushing out to an acceptable air drying position. You wrap up your nightly routine and dress into the nightgown. It feels like silk on your skin, quite comfortable. The shower really helped clear your head, but now, you need water. In the kitchen you down a glass of water, and grab a water bottle for over at Grillby’s. You would imagine he would have water at his place, but, better safe than sorry. He is a walking, talking furnace after all. You grab his jacket from your bed, holding the bottle of water as well, when you leave your apartment behind. Stepping through the doorway of Grillby’s, your surprised to see how nice his apartment is. It was much larger and fancier than yours, which makes sense, he owns the building. “Hey, Grillby, I’m here!” You call out to him, hanging his jacket on the hook behind the door.

You hear the familiar whooshing of flame behind you and you turn… oh hot damn. Grillby is in black pajama pants. That’s it. You clear your throat, returning your smile to your probably red face. “I, uh, remembered your jacket. Thanks again for letting me use it.” He nods, his flames dimming as he yawns. Were those his teeth? They look like lava. Rarely do you ever see his facial features, especially when guests are around. Only when he’s tipsy or tired does he reveal them. You never could find out as to why, but something tells you it's because he’s secretly a bit shy. He walks over to his couch and you're quick to follow. Wow, he even has a breakfast nook breaching from his kitchen into the living room! “Grillby, you have such a nice place! Invite me over for brunch sometime.” You giggle as you take a seat, wincing as you look at your feet. They look a bit swollen, red in some spots from rubbing against your shoes while wet. Should have grabbed socks.

He nods, turning on the television. Just how much money does his bar make? Not many people have televisions right now, they only came out a few years ago and are still quite expensive, even the simplest of models cost a pretty penny. The picture’s not really showing anything, but it's playing some nice music. You still prefer the radio shows that sometimes play in the afternoons. “Hey... Boss, I was wondering-” He cuts you off, lifting his hand in a gesture for silence. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly, “Gaster told me that he will be sending guards to protect the store full time. Stationing one in the alley, the other at the front door. Besides that, we were instructed, to well, we can not leave each other’s sides.” You nod agreeing with him, he seems to relax a bit. Well, that answered your question. “As you know, Monday’s are when I shop for the bar. This means you can either stay behind in your room, or go with me-and by the look you’re giving me the choice was obvious, right?” You snicker, nodding, of course you were gonna go with him.

The two of you make idle chit-chat for a bit, slowly easing the adrenaline of the night out of you two. Grillby seems to have sobered up quite a bit and you’re drinking your water bottle to lessen the chance of morning head pain. You are speaking about new burger ideas when you attempt to pull your legs under you, to sit cross legged, out of habit. “We could even add blue cheese crumbles on it! It could be a four cheese bur- sh*t .” You cry out, your foot forcing itself away from the contact it made with your leg. A whimper escapes you as you carefully rub the underside. You hadn’t twisted your ankle, had you? Well, you did slip when you got drenched, right? Its hard for you to remember, much of the incident is pretty blurry. Grillby shifts beside you, sitting up with a questionable look. “Oh, don’t worry. Feet are just a bit sore is all.” You wave him off, but he shakes his head, patting his lap.

You blink, was he offering to…? You cough and shake your head, “Um, are you offering to rub…” Your cheeks flush scarlet, “...my feet?” He nods, as if it's that apparent. You shift, lightly placing your legs on his lap. You moan quietly at the contact, the heat through his pants alone feeling remarkable. He nudges your shoulder back and you lean against the pillows behind you. Just a moment into you relaxing, you shiver as you feel his hands brush against the soles of your feet. The heat melts away any pain he comes into contact with. “H-Holy sh*t boss…” You breath through a gasp. “That feels really nice.”

He starts on your feet, pressing and prodding into the skin at different points. You whimper at some touches, and nearly purr at others. “...My mother…” He begins, fanning his thumbs over the soles of your feet in small circles. Chills make their way up your legs. “...She taught me how to do this…” He starts to roll your ankles around slowly, intensifying the heat where he finds it tender. “...she worked with my father running a hotel back in my homeland.” Oh, he mentioned this to you before, Hotland was it?

“...He ran the front desk, she worked as a masseuse in the parlor.” He rubs between your toes, wiggling them as he slowly slides up each one with a heated stroke. “She taught me well, both did in fact, the responsibilities of those who aspire to work in hospitality.” You croon softly as you nod off, doing your best to pay attention, but you are overwhelmed by his motions. “Do your legs hurt too?” He questions, but your pretty far gone. You bob your head, eyes closed as your relax, replying to his question. All around, you ache, but nothing some sleep couldn’t heal. You feel him move your feet off his lap, placing them on the couch as he stands. Behind the darkness of your eyelids, the light intensifies. Your eyes flutter open and you blink, Grillby’s hand before you.

“...Come.”

Chapter 4: Touches are Taboo, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Admittedly, you were impressed. Stepping inside the bedroom, your eyes travel about. Black oak furniture dressed the walls, and pictures dance on the walls, showing many stages of his life. These to you; however, were just minor distractions. What truly had your eyes was his bed. It was a large canopy bed with elegant pillars at each corner, each reaching up to kiss the darkened ceiling. Stepping forward you touch the blackened oak, finger tracing down the sides. It’s sanded down to the point that it's incredibly smooth. Glancing down, you ogle his choice in bed dressings, a soft whistle leaving your lips. The sheets of satin are beautiful shades of scarlett, with decorative black markings designed over them.

“Dang Grillby, were you expecting company or do you just have that great of taste?” You turn on your heels, bottle of water in hand. You catch the fireball flushing a shade of blue as he coughs to clear his throat, “A rule in hospitality is to always be prepared for the unexpected.” You giggle, placing your bottle of water on the nightstand as you crawl onto the bed. The sheets are incredibly soft and warm to the touch. You can’t help but to let yourself fall face-first into the bed, nuzzling into it. He chuckles behind you as you hear him approach. Glancing up, you smile innocently as you lean on your elbows. “So, you mentioned something about working on my legs?” He nods in response, patting down to the edge of the bed. “Rest your head here and relax your arms at your sides. Then I can begin.”

You comply, your head close to the bed’s bottom edge. You feel his radiant heat by your side, feeling him shift about. Your eyes remain closed as you enjoy the scent of the bed; it smells so smokey. It’s only when you hear soft clinking of glass does you gaze travel upwards, surprised to see Grillby with a jar in hand. You sit back on your arms, a tad bit surprised, as you see his hands heating up around the glass. “What cha doin’?” You question, feeling a bit nervous. He leans down towards your face, and a gasp slips past your lips.

The solid matter within the jar begins to give away, transforming into a rich liquid. It’s aroma is hypnotic, causing a slight buzz in your head. “...This is massage oil, a recipe my mother made from scratch. I haven’t used it in quite a long time.” he pauses, sitting up straight with the jar cupped in his palm, “When at room temperature, it remains in a solid form. However…” He tilts the glass in his hand, the liquid falling into his palm with a slight sizzle. The smell blossoms further, gracing the room with its pure scent of roses and fire. It’s a unique scent, one you have never experienced before.

“...once it heats up, it returns to its fluid state. Now, lie down.” You oblige, taking in a slow deep breath as your head rests on the sheets. Eyes closing, you hear him place the jar down on the table, next to your bottle. “...I will start with your feet, and work my way around. If anything is uncomfortable, please let me know.” You give him a soft nod, muttering an okay quietly into the sheets. You groan at the sudden surplus of heat by your ankles, as well as the presents of the massage oil. It’s such an odd texture, like milk mixed with honey; both thick yet creamy on your skin. A moan, a genuine moan of pleasure, escapes you.

You feel his hands tense, but he continues momentarily after. His thumbs add a delightful pressure to your muscles, unwinding parts of you that took the most wear and tear during work. His fingers glide over your flesh, leaving heated trails in their wake. You needed this more than you originally thought. “...Grillby...thank you…” You repeat again and again between soft moans and purrs of delight. You weren’t trying to be terribly vocal, but his touch was just so blessful. His fire crackles loudly with each complement that he hears, purely enjoying your praise, a true man of hospitality. He works his way to your thighs, where you feel him stop. “Oh, don’t worry… at this point I don’t care what you do to me Boss...just...don’t stop.” Your brain’s gone fuzzy, and you could barely think about any words escaping you. A sharp heated pressure on the back of your thigh catches you off guard. It makes you gasp out, a rather suggestive moan bewitching your voice. You can hear his breathing hitch, and a soft groan shiver through his breath. Oh dear, a heat runs through you, and not from the contact of his hands.

You are an absolute tease to him. If it wasn’t your sounds, it was your soul, completely emanating before him. He was barely able to act stable around you, keeping his flames in check. He was able to keep for the most part calm as he admires your backside view as he works your legs, just barely managing to keep his professional facade...but you just had to go and do that. It was like someone poured fuel into his soul, causing an outright dangerous burning within him. Focusing his mind back at the job in his hands, he lowered his attention to your calves with a lighter pressure. Ignoring the blossoming blue heat on his face, his hands travel over every inch, as if to memorize every small marking which adorned your skin. He hates to admit it to himself, but he found you rather attractive. Despite knowing the taboo nature of it all; him being of monster-kind and you of human-kind, he still dared to let his thoughts wander. Seeing you face down on his bed, skin glistening before his flame exterior, nightgown riding awfully high on your thighs, allowing him to sneak a glance at your rear. He found himself growing a tad... uncomfortable, and was relieved to see your head buried within the sheets.

Chills travel throughout you as he starts to press into your arm muscles. He starts at your shoulder, pressing down with his palm and pulling with his opposite your arm. With the way he was working it, the knots began to stretch, loosen, and relax. It hurts, but it hurts in a good way! “...Damn, if you ever need a side job, you’d make an excellent massage therapist.” You giggle quietly into the sheets, your mind in slight delirium. You can hear his flames jitter about, oh you can tell you were embarrassing him. “...Keep your head down, I’m going to get your back.” You feel the presence of the heat in front of you, and you refuse to nuzzle into it, cause you know… the heat is emanating naturally from his lower region. It feels very hot in fact. An involuntary shiver draws itself down your back, following his warm hands. A grunt slips past you as you feel your spine pop, “Oh snap… now that felt great.” You hear his airy chuckle over head and then feel him step away, cloth shifting around as he does so.

You sneak a glance at him, disobeying his wish to keep your head down, and he’s shifting around a cabinet beside him. This wasn’t what you were focused on though, but rather… the obvious tent within his black pajama pants. O-Oh my. He’s just steps from you, not even noticing you eyeing him down. You lean on your right arm, shifting quietly so he doesn’t notice you. A sly smirk plasters itself on your face, now it was your turn. Your shy cough catches him off guard, causing him to drop whatever he was messing with. He freezes in place, his flames swirling into different shades of deep red throughout his body. He peeks over his shoulder, only slightly making eye contact with you. You point down to his groin with your left hand, eyebrow co*cked with a devilish grin. “Care to explain, Boss~?”

Your reflexes are faster than his as you catch his wrist before he can dart away. His whole body is nearly blue, burning brightly and snapping loudly into the silent room. “Aw, Grillby,” You slowly release his wrist, traveling down his thigh to brush softly against the tented fabric. “I take it as a compliment.” You smile up to him; eyes gleaming dangerously, accented by his blaze. Perhaps it's the remnants of the alcohol swimming within you, but you had a strange feeling passionately crying out within you; an odd feeling of curiosity. You slide your finger along his waistband, finger grazing against his lower abdomen as you draw him towards the bed with a slight tug. He shifts nervously as you retract your hand then sit back on your knees. You pat the spot behind you, winking up at him. “Take a seat.”

As if you are some sort of a siren, he finds himself compelled to do so. He sits tensely behind you, almost an arm’s length away as he braces his back against the headboard. You snicker, crawling towards him, a bizarre air of confidence breathing life into you. You embrace it. His features burn bright on his face, glistening behind his glasses, confused parted lips panting amongst the inferno. His eyes never lose sight of you, watching you paw forward on all fours. His grip tightens unconsciously on his sheets as he watches you raise a hand, a finger extended. You lower your hand, just a breath away from touching him. Your eyes meet his, his breathing stills. “It’s only fair...” you start, your outreached finger lowers closer, “...you made me feel better, shouldn’t I…” he goes rigid as you stop, your grin sparkling mischievously, “...return the favor?”

In one fluid motion, you stroke the outer cloth protecting his lower secret. “ A-Ah!” He fights crying out, biting at his bottom lip to mum himself. His body wasn’t as silent, thrusting forward, seeking your touch. Softly, in small circles, you tease him with the tip of your finger. It’s hot, in quite the literal manner. He shivers as you spread his legs, nestling in between them in a kneeling position. Shyness brushes over you as you curiously eye his bulge. “So… Gotta admit Grillby, I haven’t done anything like this before.” You smile up at him rather innocently, and he co*cks his head to the side rather shocked. What was all that confidence then? “...I have never done this with a human either.” He admits, bending his left knee to lean against it, watching you. With a nod of your head, you reach down and press your palm into him.

“N-Ngh…”

You groan silently in response, feeling a jolt travel throughout your body and end in your loins. His response catching you off guard, and you had yet to make contact with him directly yet. “Is this okay? It doesn’t hurt right?” You question anxiously, body on full alert to retreat at any moment. He nods, eyes focused on your palm. “Hmmm… one sec.” You pull back your hand, receive a slight gasp from the flame elemental, as you shift about. It was beginning to feel uncomfortable kneeling, so you opt to lay on your belly. You weave your arms under your head with your shoulders squared to keep you hovering above his crotch. You resist the urge to nuzzle his crotch, the heat feels so comfortable. Kicking your legs in the air behind you, swinging them nervously as you try to compose yourself. Grillby shifts in front of you, scooting back slightly as his erection is a bit too close to your mouth for comfort. He did want to last a few minutes after all.

Once more you reach forward, finding the slit of his pants. You trace along the edge, then pull it to the side. Your eyes narrow in, finding his erection trapped at an odd angle. “Hey Boss, I think I might need some help down here.” You snicker to yourself as Grillby nods, his hand finding its way down. After a bit of maneuvering, his dick stands at full attention before you. “O-Oh...wow…” You can’t help but to be a bit mesmerized. Under the wisping flames there’s body, yet it’s not like skin. It’s thick and it has a slight transparent-ness to it. The flames down here are a bit different compared to the rest of his body as well. The blaze has rich shades of red and orange, but the corporeal part beneath is a yellow-gold color.

Grillby watches apprehensively, unsure what to even think at this moment. You lean forward, only to stop an inch away. “Uh… soooo… you won’t, ya’know, burn my mouth right? Like hot pizza or something?” Aren’t you a sexy mood killer. He belts out an airy laugh, patting your head and caressing your hair between his fingers. “...You’ll be fine.” Trusting his words, you lean forward, planting a soft kiss at the tip. His head shoots back, a groan resonating from him. Your lips tingle, like you had licked something spicy. Speaking of which, you lap softly at the tip with your tongue. Yes, his essence was causing soft prickling sensation within your mouth. He trembles before you, eyes squeezed shut. You lick your lips nervously, kissing the tip once more.

“Gah!” His hand tightens within your hair, shaking as it tries to remain steady. He seemed to have really liked that. What had you done diff...ah, you had licked your lips, hadn’t you. You smirk, leaning in and taking the head into your mouth. It’s warm, nothing too uncomfortable. You begin to suckle on it, allowing your tongue to tease the head. He’s breathing deepens, rapidly increasing which each suck he hears echo in the room. “...Y-Your mouth…it’s so wet...and cold…” He groans out, catching you off guard for a second. Cold? You continue, a bit distracted as you continue to blow him. Now that you think about it, he is made of fire… so technically, your mouth would feel cold to him. You eyes glance over to the side, giggling against his dick. He shivers, co*cking a glance down at you. “...Hm?”

You pop his dick from your mouth rather casually, watching it bounce a bit before you, he moans under his breath. You sit back giving Grillby a Cheshire grin. “Hey, close your eyes. I wanna try something.” You point over to the nightstand where the massage oil sits. He nods, understanding, relaxing against the headboard. He wouldn’t want to admit it aloud, but he knew this oil made a great lubricant, from personal experience. He listened to you shift about on the bed, hear the crackle of your water bottle as you grab the jar. Patiently he awaits for you to return to your position between his legs. He feels both relaxed and nervous, the throbbing between his legs aching. He reaches out to take the jar, so he could melt the substance once more. He’s surprised to feel you push his hand back. There’s no way the oil would still be in its liquid fo-

“sh*t!”

He thrust into your wet mouth, nearly gagging you with his length. He stares down at you in shock, eyeing the nearly empty water bottle beside you. You giggle, swirling your tongue around him, the small amount of icy water dancing with it. He was jittery, sharp bright eyes wide and alert, his face a cerulean flush. Your taunting eyes chilled him as much as the water, shivering as he felt you start to bob your head. His fingers wrap in your hair, eyes closed as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. You felt amazing. As he increases his thrusting, guiding your head with his hand, water and saliva begins to trickle down your chin. Your own arousal starts to bother you, and unfortunately at this angle you had no way to ease the pulsation between your legs. He slows his thrust, using his thumb to swipe some fallen hair over your eyes. You glance up at him, using your tongue to slowly strike over tip. “...You have really pretty eyes…”

The heat on your cheeks isn’t from your close proximity of him, and you can’t help but mutter shyly around him. Glancing away, you feel him softly stroke into your hair. Catching him off guard, you lean into him. Taking in as much as possible, you gulp down on him, the movement driving him crazy. He cries out against his hand as he tries to mute himself. He roughly croons your name, moaning about how close you are making him. A devilish idea churns in your head and at one particularly deep thrust, as your head returns to the tip, you graze your teeth against him in an agonizing trail all the way up. You break him, he shouts your name as his inferno flares brightly behind your closed eyes. He arches over you, panting as he delivers rope after rope of his essence into your mouth. Like drinking freshly brewed tea, it slightly scalds the roof of your mouth.

He falls back into the pillows behind him, the hand once wrapped in your hair now hiding his face as he tries to regain his composure. Sitting up, you cough into your hand, spritz of his magical heated essence coating it. You rub your tongue on the roof of your mouth, eyes narrowing up at him. Sure, not gonna burn your mouth, pshhh, liar, but you were damn proud to see how this all turned out. “So, enjoying your afterglow, Boss?” you chastise, crawling up to lay next to him. “...Really? Puns… right now? After all that?” He hasn’t removed his hand from over his face, parting the fingers only slightly to look over at you. His glasses adorably disheveled slightly revealed. “Just so you know, that candlestick of yours burned the roof of my mouth.” He sighs in defeat, knowing you’re probably right and deserves to hear you burn him. Oh no! First Sans, now you were rubbing off on him too!?

You wipe your slightly sweating forehead against your hand, crawling under the thin sheet. “Well, maybe it wasn’t your dick… more like your cum. Yeah, your cum totally burned me.” You tease as your grab your bottle water to take one final swig. He hasn’t moved, but his breathing was slowing as his erection slowly fell as he calmed down. You’d laugh and go on to tease him more, but the comfort of the bed reminds you how exhausting today has been. As much as you want to have a bit of release yourself, you decide to just relax and enjoy his radiating comfort. He stands, cleaning himself up a bit before crawling into bed with you. He places his glasses on the nightstand as he slides into the covers, his flames dimming as he grows weary. It was a nice warmth, like being around your best friend. Well, it’s not like that wasn’t true, he’s become a dear friend of yours in these past few months. As you both start to teeter off to sleep, you roll over to him and prop yourself on his chest.

“So… does today make me employee-of-the-month or what?”

Chapter 5: Take a Risk, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Smells beckon you awake and begrudgingly, you sit up. It takes you a moment, but then you remember where you slept last night. Sliding out of bed, you rearrange your nightgown to fit on you properly, sleep having shifted it around uncomfortably. To your surprise, you’re not terribly cold once exiting the bed. If this was your apartment, you would have dragged your comforter with you all morning. Uh make that all afternoon, glancing at the clock on the wall you notice it's about noon. Eh, it's about the usual time you would wake up, but last night you definitely got to bed late. Glancing over to the mirror on your laugh, you take a look at yourself. You look refreshed, alive and awake. There’s a thin scar line over your left eye, nothing make up couldn’t hide, and your hair looked nice. It’s a bit straighter than nor...mal… oh my… Grillby’s hand… it straightened your hair while you were blowing him. Would that... would that be considered a blow dry then? If not, that’s the official term for it now! Snickering to yourself you nearly trot out to the kitchen. Last night made you left you in a chipper mood.

“Mornin’ Grillby!” You announce as you take a seat by the breakfast bar. His back is turned as he works the stove, “...Sleep well?” He shifts about, plating eggs and toast for the both of you. “Mhm,” You hum, kicking your feet under you as you watch him, “if you ever want to have me sleep over again, I’ll volunteer!” As he turns you notice his cheeks flare blue and you flush in return, “Well… I could always do that again too… doesn’t have to be a sleep over either.” You mumble the last part under your breath, “I wasn’t too bad, right?” You tease as he coughs awkwardly. “...No, not at all.” He turns towards the fridge, grabbing drinks for the both of you. As you take a bite of your eggs, you wince, rubbing your tongue on the roof of your mouth. Still a bit too tender for your liking. Grillby notices and mutters an apology once more, grabbing something from a cabinet.

“...Here, some monster candy.” He drops the small red candy in your hand. He’s given you these every now and then on the weekend’s during the rush hours at the bar, they always helped your aching feet. Magical monster candy had great healing properties to them you found out. “Ah, thanks.” You pop it into your mouth, rolling it around on your tongue. It’s sweet, like cinnamon and sugar; not the spicy cinnamon either, and has a distinct, non-licorice flavor. As it finishes melting, you rub the tip of your tongue on the roof of your mouth again. Nothing. “That’s better, thanks Boss. Keep those handy,” you munch into your toast, “for next time.” You really catch him off guard, and you can hear him choking slightly on his food.

You relax together for the hour, enjoying small talk and creating a shopping list. Nothing too drastic is needed, mostly just restock of liquor and burger patties. You didn’t need to go with him, but you both decided it would be better for the both of you; to keep both of your nerves calm. “Oh, and I think we need more buns too. People have been asking for the whole whe-.” A slam of a car door outside startles both of you. Grillby stands quickly, flames snapping wildly. He holds a hand up, stopping all of your movement. He grabs his jacket, dashing out the door. You can hear it lock behind him. Bracing yourself against the door, you listen. You hear his fading footsteps down the stairs, then silence. You wait, listening for anything. There’s… talking? Minutes pass by and your half tempted to go check on him. You can’t quite tell, but you hear footsteps return. You back up, hiding in the kitchen, at least if you needed a weapon you had some supplies here.

There’s a jingling of keys and the door opens, you relax as you see your boss return. “W-Was it for us?” You barely speak above a whisper, ready to jump at any second. He nods, closing the door behind him. “...Gaster sent his guards, they are already stationed. I will introduce you to them before we leave.” You sigh, the tension shattering from your body. “That’s… a relief.” You perk up again, running your hands through your hair. “Well, I guess I’ll go get ready then. See you in fifteen?” He nods, hanging his jacket back up.

You return to your apartment, quickly changing into some warmer clothing. Leaving Grillby’s heat made you sad, but you knew you would return to the warmth soon. Going into your dresser you pull out a pair of black slacks and a nice navy blue sweater with a collar. Nothing extravagant, just your average day-off clothing. You love your work clothing more, it made you feel fancy and dare you say, sexy? You’re quick to brush your hair and wash off any sleep on your face. You add simple makeup to brighten your look and hide the scar. You tie your hair back with a black ribbon, tying it into a small bow. If you were going to be around ingredients you shouldn't have your hair down anyway. You snatch your wallet and keys, slipping them into your front pocket of your jacket. You never use a purse anymore, having witnessed someone get theirs snatched right off their shoulder. Never make yourself a target, you remind yourself.

You slip on a pair of black leather gloves, sliding them comfortably inside. They are quite useful when carrying in boxes, protecting your hand's delicate skin. Sliding on your tan leather boots, you step outside and find Grillby waiting for you. He’s dressed close to his usual wear, instead of a vest, he opted for a green cardigan. “...Ready?” You nod, tightening the belt around your jacket. On your way out he introduces you to the new guards. Both wear gray business suits, carry large metal bats as weapons, and have protective helmets on their heads. Their names you find out are One and Two, which are probably code names you assume, and they were instructed by their boss, Mr. Gaster, to watch over Grillby’s for now. They seem very nice and promise to safely guard the store while you both are out. One takes his place by the front door, where he can talk to people if needed, and Two hides in the alleyway in One’s line of vision. From what you can tell, Two isn’t much of a talker. You bid the two goodbye for now, and head to Grillby’s car.

The drive to the store isn’t too far, roughly a five minute ride. On nicer days, you two would just walk the twenty minutes or so. You sit beside him, fumbling with the list and double checking it to make sure you have everything. You name off ingredients, cleaning supplies, anything that comes to mind to see if you need them. Grillby responds with short yes and no responses, able to focus both on you and driving. An odd sense of deja vu hits you and momentarily you feel a bit dizzy. You shrug it off, it only makes sense, this isn’t the first time you’ve done this exact same thing with Grillby. Maybe you were just still tired from yesterday’s crazy events.

Pulling into the parking lot of the large distribution company proves to be a bit of a hassle. Rabbits, monster rabbits everywhere, running to-and-fro from delivery truck to delivery truck drives. It nearly drives you mad. Thankfully, Grillby pulls up behind the building to the pick up section. Standing there among the craziness is a bossy purple rabbit monster, whose name always escapes you, instructing everyone. You weren't surprised when Grillby told you that all of the workers were either her children or their cousins, they are rabbits after all. Stepping out of the car, Grillby makes his way towards the boss-lady while you take a look at some of the produce containers.

The prices at here are super cheap and sometimes you like to grab a few things of fruit for your apartment. Usually Grillby grabs them for you when you don’t come with and just deducts the purchase from your paycheck. Just as you're nearing the back of the stands, a wave of familiarity hits you again. This time it catches you off guard and you feel slightly ill. Somethings… somethings just not right. As you turn on your heels to return to Grillby, a sound catches you off guard. It’s a tiny sound, like that of a whisper on the wind, but you hear it. It’s a cry, a cry for help. The nerves in your stomach jump as you pause. Something in you screamed to ignore it, it was probably nothing. “...I’m going to regret this.”

Dashing forward you run down the alleyway where the fruit displays end. A gut feeling was pulling you along, something at the back of your head guiding you. Past dumpsters and piles of old cardboard, you turn a corner and freeze. You can see it as you poke your head around to spy on the group. It’s hard to tell in the lack of lighting, but there’s two or so bodies on the ground already. Fearing you may have witnessed something you shouldn’t have, you go to leave. A pained shout startles you and you whip your head back around. Squinting, you notice a large burly man striking at… children!? You can barely see them; a human kid dodging the man’s strikes, and a monster child crouched behind them against the wall. You feel it, something bubbling inside you. A new feeling that fills you with the courage and strength to save them. Whatever this feeling is, you like it.

You roll up your sleeves and tear down the alleyway just as the man slams his spiked bat down towards the child. You boots grind loudly into the ground as you propel yourself forward, slamming your fist into the man’s head. Specifically, his ear. The man is instantly knocked off balance, toppling to his left with a pained cry. Panting, you rub your hand, thanking yourself for having worn gloves. It’s only then does the man notice you and your eyes meet. You sharply inhale, a tremble passing through you. “You’re… the bitch from the bar! You’re alive?!” He exclaimed while struggling to stand. This man… he was one of the men at the bar. One of the men that tried to kill your boss, your best friend. The one that nearly killed you.

Turning towards the children you quickly grab their shoulders shouting for them to run. The nod, bolting off with you towards the way you came. You notice the monster child limping, trying his best to keep up and nearly tripping as a result. You snatch him up, holding him in your arms as you turn the corner. His spikes press into your skin and you grunt ignoring the pain, adrenaline and that feeling willing you forward. “This way!” You snap, pulling the other kid along. You duck into a large storage container, hiding the three of you behind boxes. The door slides closes behind you, and darkness masks your presence. You do your best to hush your breathing, mumming yourselves by pressing your sleeves into your faces. There’s sounds of shoes slamming against concrete… then silence. Sliding down onto the floor, you shift the children behind you.

They look exhausted, huddled behind you on their knees. “Y-Yo… think they’re gonna find us?” The monster child whispers to his friend, a worried look painting his yellow face. You place a finger to your lips, your eyes widening as a sound outside catches you off guard. The door to the storage container opens. You press your back into your line of defense, a large cardboard box, peering slowly around the corner. Your body nearly gives out at the sight, it’s Grillby and the rabbit stepping inside. “G-Grillby?” You call out, stepping forward. They stop mid-step, each with a facade laced with confusion. “Uh…” They both mumble out, obviously confused by your presence within a damp, dark storage bin. As you go to speak up, a noise behind you stills you. It’s a short whistle, followed by two or so clicks.

Grillby’s flames flare up as he strides forward, “...Frisk?” The human child steps around you, and with the light of the outside trickling in you finally get a good view of them. Poor thing; their clothes are dirty, their arms and face scratched up. They looks quite weary. The rabbit-lady’s long ears perk up and she looks incredibly worried. “Hiya kid, what are you doing here?” She steps forward, beside Grillby as they question the kid, Frisk. Frisk begins moving theirhands around; whistling, snapping theirfingers, and clicking teeth together. It’s a language you’ve never seen before. Grillby whispers something to the rabbit and she dashes out of your little hide out. You feel a tug on your sleeve and turn to see the monster child. You squat down to his height and he leans against the wall behind him. You can see he’s pretty scraped up too, a few bruises on his face.

“Y-Yo, thanks for saving us. You’re AWESOME!” He beams a toothy grin at you and you can’t help but smile back. “Call me, M.K.,” He attempts to stand without the walls support, but winces, looking down at his legs. They are shaking. You’re quick to introduce yourself as you help him sit up. “H-Hey, don’t move. You guys got pretty banged up, here let’s try…” You pick him up, letting him settle in your arms like a chair. He’s not very heavy or big, roughly the side of an average eight year old. He swings his legs out infront of him, happily leaning into your chest. “Comfy?” You giggle as he nods, your attention drawing back to the other two. You watch Frisk “talk” to Grillby, who nods and runs a hand over his head; flames lashing about. He glances over to you, waving you over.

“...Frisk tells me you saved them.” He speaks up, crossing his arms before his chest in thought. “Well…” You start, kicking a bit at the floor. “It was AMAZING! Yo, she beat up the bad guy!” M.K. cuts you off with some babbling about your “heroic battle” against the bad guy. Grillby nods along and Frisk is smiling up at you, you guess they already informed him during their little “talk”. Shyly you glance away, “Well, I just did what my heart told me to do…” Frisk nods, seeming to understand full well what you mean. Grillby steps away, peering out the container door. “...Follow me, do not hesitate. Get into the car, keep your heads low and move quick.” He instructs, the rest of you follow with haste. Weaving between containers, all four of you are on high alert. Any moments slightly startle you and you stick close to your boss, his presence comforting you. You notice many of the rabbit workers are standing still, as if scouting out the area for any sign of trouble.

The rabbit lady is standing by Grillby’s car, which is running. She opens the back door and the three of you are quick to spill in, Grillby taking the driver’s seat. He mutters a thank you to her and she nods, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll have one of my boys follow you to your place with your groceries, that way they can keep an eye on you, ya’hear?” Grillby nods and pulls away, the rabbit lady waving a solemn worried wave. You sit in the middle of the back, each kid by your side. Your leaning forward, the two nestled in your sides. “Y-Yo, think they’ll f-find us?” M.K. whispers, as if they might be heard. You shake your head, patting him on the back in a comforting manner. “No way, Grillby’s gonna protect us.” You coo softly, glancing up towards the fire elemental. He catches you in the rear view mirror, nodding as he returns to look on the road.

The ride is quiet, your heart still racing as you look out the windows every now and then to judge the distance from the bar. As you arrive, One steps forward to greet you, only to stop mid-step as he sees Grillby usher you and the kids from the backseat. “W-Woah, Frisk? M.K.? What are-” Grillby cuts him off quickly, “We may have been followed.” One goes rigid, quickly returning to his post. In the corner of your eye you catch Two, whose scouting out from alley. Grillby opens the front door, allowing the three of you to duck inside. You sit M.K. down on a bar stool, then sigh in relief, you’ve made it home safe and sound. Frisk scuttles with haste over to the phone, dialing a number in a rush. Grillby stays outside, speaking with the monster who’s just pulled up to deliver the groceries.

You turn your attention back to the monster kid, fixing up his cap and red bandana around his neck. “Hey, do you want some water, some food or anything?” You ask while stepping behind the bar, you can see he instantly cheers up. “You got any spider cider?” You nod, grabbing some from under the bar, it’s one of your few non-alcoholic options. “Heated or on the rocks?” You ask, pulling out the jug and placing it on the table. You can hear Frisk whistling and snapping to your right, “speaking” on the phone. Were they calling their parents? M.K. looks at you full of confusion, “You’re gonna put rocks in my drink? Dude, that’ll chip my teeth!” You pause, but can’t help but let a giggle slip. “O-Oh no dear, it means to put it on ice. Sorry, it’s bar talk.” His eyes go wide and he gets a cute darkened yellow blush kisses his cheeks. “Oooooh, uh, can I have it warmed up then?”

You grab the cider and head to the kitchen as Frisk hangs up the phone, they look relieved. “Hey, want some cider too?” You point to the jug, they gives you a thumbs up as they scampers off to sit next to their friend. Cute kid. You step in the back and begin to heat up the cider in a kettle. Usually your boss is the one to instant heat the drinks using his magic, but he’s busy at the moment. You grab mugs and run them under hot water, then dry them once they reach a nice comforting temperature. The kettle whistles just moments later, so you fill them and you can’t help but inhale the delicious wafting steam. Placing them on a tray, you return to the front and hand them out to each of you. You hear the back door open in the kitchen and Grillby’s cracking fire; he’s helping the delivery-monsters bring in the groceries.

Frisk drinks out of their mug, giving you a thumbs up as they put it down on the bar top. M.K. stares down at his mug. Your eyes widen in embarrassment, how hadn't you noticed, he doesn’t have arms! With quick action you place a straw within his mug, he giddily gulps it down. They both look better already. Maybe it’s just your eyes, but you feel like you can see their injuries fading away. “So Frisk, are your parents coming to pick you guys up or something? I’d imagine it’s not safe to let you two go alone.” You sip your drink, feeling its warmth trickle into your belly. Frisk shakes their head, grabbing your free one and placing your palm over to face them. It tickles as they traces out letters.

U-N-C-L-E

“Ah, okay, awesome...” You pause, shifting side to side, “...so, what were you two doing out there anyway?” They pause, glancing between the two. You notice they both have the same newsboy caps, quite popular with kids nowadays, each with a little pin on the brim. You kind of recognize the symbol, but just from where? You take another sip of your cider, placing down before you. “Well?” You question rather sternly, an odd parental feeling sparking in you. Seriously, they look like they were about to get seriously hurt… or worse had you not shown up. M.K. blows into his drink, causing little bubbles to form. Frisk glances to the side nervously, tilting their cap to hide their eyes.

“they were cause’n trouble, that’s what.”

Spinning around you're greeted to a smug skeleton, leaning against the kitchen door frame. Wait, you recognize this monster. The skeleton took a deep inhale of his lit cigar, blowing the air out through his teeth with a hiss. The scent hit you, toasted marshmallows. “Wait, Sans?” You look at him dumbfounded, then turn to Frisk and the kid, oh the shame that seems to emanate from them. “Sans… is your Uncle, Frisk?” You blink, trying to add things up. You jolt in surprise as you turn back to Sans, whose standing suddenly beside you. He’s shaking his head, leaning against the counter. “kiddo, i’m not gonna talk about this here, but the boss-”

Clicking and snapping caught your attention, along with a furious amount of hand signing. Frisk’s face was bursting with silent emotions, changing as they made “words” to reflect what they weretrying to convey. M.K. nods along, understanding his friend and verifying what they were telling the short boneman. You ping-pong between the two, trying to paste together some sort of story in their unknown language. You pause to watch the skeleton’s facial expressions. Somehow; despite it being bone, it’s easy for you to read. His eye sockets seem to narrow, then widen as he glances to you.

“...well… damn. this is gonna be fun to report.” Sans sighs, snuffing out his cigar in the ash tray. “...and you’re sure he was from the northside division?” Frisk nods, pointing at theirwrist. Sans shakes his head in a defeated manner, turning to face you. “whew, kid…” He speaks up and your stomach twists. “...you really f*cked up.” Concern crosses over you and you tense up, “W-What did I do?” He shakes his head and holds up a bony finger, focusing back on the kids. “kiddo, m.k., river’s out front. Get home and I’ll see you after I speak with grillbz.” The kids jump down from their seats, sauntering over to the door. “‘ey kiddo,” Sans speaks up, halting their movements, “make sure river drives carefully, can’t have you two get t- boned .”

Their tiny frowns turned to toothy smiles, their paces picking up as they leave. You let out a groan, rubbing your temples. This guy. As you lower your hand you notice him staring at you. “...so, you recognized that guy, right? the one you punched?” He leans back against the wall covered with the liquor display. You nod, “Yeah, he knew me too. Pleasantly referring to me as the ‘bitch from the bar’.” You state poignantly, crossing your arms with a scowl spread across your face. “congratz kid, i got some sour news for you.” He begins as you see Grillby enter the door frame behind him, listening in. “...seems like you just royally pissed off our rival syndicate, the crown five.”

Chapter 6: A Dangerous Game, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“Da’f*ck you mean,”

Click.

“those little bitches are ALIVE.”

The room is silent, except for the shaking of a man on his knees. Holding a blood soaked towel to his right ear, he trembles as his superior eyes him down. The man on his knees bites his tongue to keep a whimper from slipping out. “W-Well, Mister, Mister Baron, S-Sir,” he hesitates, glancing behind him to his fellow comrades. They shake their heads, glancing their bruised faces away in shame. He was going to have to face him head on. Alone. A large boot stomps down in front of him, causing him to jump like a startled cat. A chill runs through him as the gun presses down against his forehead. “You better f*ckin’ spill, or your brain’s gonna do that for ya.”

The man chokes out a confession, stammering more than giving an answer. He admits that they messed up, having assumed they had killed that bartender and how they underestimated that snot nose brat and their friend. He gulps, slipping out apology after apology as he quivers; fear sliding up his spine like a ghastly claw. The barrel sears into his skin with more pressure and he nearly pisses himself. Baron is known for his trigger finger after all. “YOU USELESS co*ckSUCKERS!” Gun meets skin, man topples back, red painting the ground where he once was kneeling. He cries out on the floor as he scrambles, holding his left eye. An imprint of the gun’s butt stains his skin, where it had bit him, blood seeping through his fingers. The grunts let out a silent sigh of relief as the gun returns to its home, at least they'll live another day. “Can't f*ck’n rely on anyone to do their Goddamn jobs.” With a wave of a hand, he dismisses them from the room.

“Oh Baron, don’t you know not to swear before a lady.” teases a voice behind him, the smell of perfume burning his nose. “Psh, I don’t see no lady here,” He shrugs, turning on his heels with a catty grin, “only a worn out wrinkled puss*-f*ck. DAMN IT, TAKE A JOKE ‘PRESSY!” He rubs his arm as it stings, a crimson slash making its appearance on his bicep. She steps forward out of the shadows, crop bouncing in her palm. “Hm? What's that? Can't handle a bit of leather from moi?” She coos, eyes switching from playful to sad*stic. Her pinprick heels click against the granite as she slides the crop up Baron’s chest, tracing around the naked muscles. “Oh piss off ‘Pressy. Ugh, I need a drink.” He groans, flinching as she swats at him. “Tsh,” she crosses her arms, tossing back her golden locks over her nude shoulders, “it’s your fault for hiring worthless goons out from the docks.” He closes in on her, eyes narrowing, “Like you’re one to talk, it’s your shriveled c*nt’s fault for giving my men the wrong information.”

CRACK

Baron catches the crop with his hand, thumb threatening to break it in his grasp. A rather feral growl escapes her lips as she snaps, “My fault?! It’s your men’s faults for not doing their own research in the first place!” He looms over her, even in her tall heels he still quite towers her. She doesn’t back down, never does. “Bitch, it’s your fault that-”

“Baron, Empress, is it really the time to be fighting?”

A voice chides them as they step out from a side entrance hallway. The two separate, both with very differing reactions to the new entity. “Monny~ sweetie! Nice to see you step away from your lab!” Empress practically waltzes up to him, adorning herself onto his arm. Rolling his eyes, Baron huffs as he takes a seat at the table. “Sup’ Monarch,” Baron crosses his arms over his chest, “...had enough of your f*ckin’ number munchin’ to stop by the throne room?” He kicks his feet up on the desk, boots clunking loudly as the table protest the weight. Monarch carefully takes his seat, Empress willingly being tugged along to sit next to him. Monarch places his papers and folders before him; always prepared, always ready. Adjusting his glasses, he relaxes back into his chair, his crisp white lab jacket stretching in protest. “Just for the meeting, then I’ll be back to my work.” His voice is fluid yet sharp, like a freshly poured wine. Empress visibly pouts, bottom lush lip puffing out, enhanced only by her radiant lipstick.

“Ah, so good to see you all here on time… for once.”

The three tense, turning to the head of the table. At the forefront sits their leader, his long multi-colored mane emanating in the low light’s display. Just when had he shown up? Glancing up from his woven fingers, cat eyes sharp under the shadow of his bangs. Baron was quick to shift, shoving his legs under the table properly. “O-Oh, ‘ey Czar.” He mumbles as he glances over to the left side of their leader, Monarch and Empress give small nods of acknowledgement. “Well, most of us are here,” he nods his head towards the empty seat, “I thought we all had to come here. Majesty slackin’ off?” Czar shakes his head, reclining back into his seat. “They… will be joining us in a bit. Now; Monarch, Empress, Baron,” each of their expressions change to a serious tone upon hearing their names, “Report.”

Monarch is the first to speak up as he stands, a voice with sparse excitement. “Research is going quite well, thanks to Majesty of course. Obtaining that formula has really increased the speed at which my lab is producing a better product. If you take a look at column A…” Monarch trails on, passing out papers to each of the members. Baron zones out, nearly at a snooze, while Empress does her best to express interest in the notes. She fails to do so after a few minutes of Mony’s droning, a lullaby to her ears, and she forces herself to doodle on the paper as a distraction. Monarch halts his speech mid sentence, a wave of the hand from Czar cutting him off. “When can we expect the first batch to be ready?” Monarch shifts the papers nervously within his hands, “Well… I’m-I’m unsure. Much of this formula is quite useful; don’t get me wrong, but it’s like reading in another language. That scientist’s writing is horrendous.” He scowls, pushing his glasses against his nose, a nervous habit of his.

“Two weeks.”

Horror strikes Monarch, his fingers nearly snapping the neck of the pen he was carrying. “B-But, sir-” Czar’s gaze silences him and Monarch nods in response, “Yes… Two weeks.” Monarch returns to his seat, stone cold to even Empress’s worried touch. She stands upon realization that Czar is waiting for her. Never make Czar impatient, she was taught that long ago. “Well Czar dear, I have only greatest of news to deliver,” her sly glance towards him makes Baron nearly bare his fangs, “Stage: Scandalous has been doing excellent thanks to my new show and profits are returning tenfold since we dispelled that damn robot out of the area. We did have an issue or two to resolve because of him,” She scoffs, but waves her hand in a dismissive manner, “of course it wasn’t anything I couldn’t take care of.” She stands proudly with her hands over chest, inflated much like her own ego.

“Obsidian Moon has been doing very well with liquor sales as of late, despite the weather. People really appreciate the live band performances. The new decor has been installed. All the broken sections have been removed and replaced after the last ordeal.” She steps over to the east wall, pulling on a large hanging rope cord. “The Palace...” The alluring velvet curtains retract, revealing floor to ceiling windows displaying the view below. Even without leaving their seats, they can see the chaos below of their headquarters. If the windows were not sound proof, the throne room would be filled with the sounds of pleasured moans, screams of defiance, and the audience's cries for more. The evening show has only just begun a few minutes ago. “...as you can see, it's all just perfect.” She’s met with static from the leader, whose eyes stare away as if distracted by the downstairs mayhem. She hoped she didn’t anger him with her confident display.

“...Baron.”

Empress visibly frets, huffing as she returns to Monarch’s side. Never a compliment from that guy, no matter how hard she tried to get even a single nice thing to escape Czar. A soft touch on her shoulder perks her up as she nuzzles into Monarch’s hand, he always understood her. She is his favorite. Her eyes travel over to Baron, whose tension is very evident on his face. He stands, coughing a bit into his hand. “Um, well, nothing terribly new on my end.” Empress audibly snickers and Baron glares down at her. Control yourself, for now; his personal mantra during these meetings.“My men have reported average movement from bastards of Southside. Uh, we did have a few bits of trouble…” He trails off to paste his words properly together, Czar doesn’t even flinch. “M-My boys f*cked up, sir. Can’t lie. First they didn’t snuff out that bartender, getting the human waitress by mistake… who I found out just recently wasn’t actually killed. Then they found the kid, ya’know the one Majesty’s been talkin’ about? They corned them, but evidently they were saved by, get this, the hoe from the bar! Wha-What are the odds, right?” He nervously laughs while scratching the back of his head.

Czar remains stagnant.

Shifting to stand, Czar saunters over to the transparent wall, looking down at The Palace’s main stage below. He snarls, the closest he ever gets to a smile before the three, watching as the woman on stage is lashed at by a whip. A whip he had handcrafted himself. He wish he could hear the screams, but alas, only the shaky breathing of Baron filled his ears. Before he could enjoy himself he had to finish work here first.“Baron...” He speaks, tone demanding yet gentle, but to Baron, petrifying. “...you disappoint me.” Empress gulps; her hold on Monarch tightening, she actually has a small amount of worry for him in her empty heart. She’s been on the receiving end of Czar’s anger; both willing and unwilling. Not the most pleasant of experiences she can promise you that. Baron’s taut muscles tighten against his chest; much like his breathing, his knuckles white in his grasp. “Y-Yeah, not gonna lie, pretty pissed too. D-Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to ya. I plan to do some grunt work myself.” Baron stands stark still, as if he is staring down a cobra who's ready to strike. Except... he would have prefered the cobra. “You have two days.” Baron falters, had he heard him right? This was terrifyingly generous of him to be let off so easily. Something was definitely up with Czar… or maybe Baron was just super high off his ass right now and none of this is really happening. That would make the most sense. “Um, yeah, no problem. I’ll get the little sh*ts before ya’know it!” Czar nods, pressing his fingers against the glass, not in the mood to deal with any of this. Not yet, at least.

“NO STOP!”

“WE’RE SORRY!”

“BACK OFFFFFFF!”

“NOOOO!”

“AAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!”

The sickening sound of splattering echoes throughout the throne room, the desperate cries originating from the front hallway. Even with the doors being shut tight, the sounds of death could not be muffled. Empress suppresses a cry of surprise, clasping her hands to her mouth to keep from retching. Her hair thrashes about on her shoulders as the shiver bites down her back. Monarch is stoic, adjusting his glasses as he reminds himself to get the mess cleaned up once the meeting concludes. Baron facepalms, slowly dragging his hand down his distressed features. Great, this meant he had to hire more men. More work for him. Just f*cking peachy. No matter the three’s reactions of varying anguish, Czar’s reaction is one of absolute glee. “Ah, it seems Majesty has arrived. You three are dismissed, we need to speak. Alone.” Without another word, the three leave with haste down the side entrance, not wanting to see the carnage decorating the front halls. At first, Empress is upset, having to separate from Monny so soon. She's filled with joy when fingers become laced with hers, guiding her to the laboratory. Monarch must miss his little experiment too.

A creak of the door opening has Czar spinning on his heels, an often abandoned smile revealing itself to none but one. A figure lingers at the doorway, hidden by the shadows of the darkened hall. “My dear Majesty, glad for you to show. Was the journey here pleasant?” A sickening cackle caresses his ears, the shiny flick of metal catching his eyes as he braces himself momentarily against the glass behind him. The figure walks forward, the knife in their hand being spun with dextrous ease. The actions alone igniting a burning passion within him. Keep calm. “...Don’t speak to me as if I am a mere child, Czar. You know better than to do so after all, don’t you?” Czar chuckles into his fist as he gives a short bow to his associate. Offering a hand, he guides Majesty over to the head of the table. Their proper home; here within The Palace. Czar may absolutely loom over his colleague with his mountainous height, but he knows to behave around his companion. Taking a seat in his large chair, Majesty climbs onto his lap, legs straddling that of the older male. Their spot. This is a rare moment of private time between the two of them, a time for them to cherish.

Snickering, Majesty brandishes the knife before Czar, tiny flecks of fresh blood gleaming within the light’s low gaze. “...They were no fun I’ll have you know. Barely a game of cat and mice.” Czar shakes, feeling the point of the blade trace down his throat. “It was quite disappointing...” Majesty’s handling of that weapon always impressed him, despite the young one’s age. A prodigy of their skill. “...but you never disappoint me, do you, Czar?” A groan escapes his lips, the blade scratching against his chin like a close shave. He closes his eyes, his hand’s in Majesty’s will. “Never.” a soft whisper of a response, his mind starting to slip into an odd bliss, his erection throbbing between his legs. f*ck, he missed this. Waiting weeks in between their meetings is torture. A torture he loves.

“T h e n w h y i s F r i s k a l i v e? ”

A sudden shift in movement forces his eyes to snap open, finding his hands pinned above his head within a deathly grasp of an inhumanly strong hand. He discovers the tip of the blade, like fangs of a wolf, snarling before his eyes. Czar’s breath hitches, his hips thrusting involuntarily, demanding contact. More . “B-Baron f*cked up.” The knife eased its way down his throat, softly tracing his adam’s apple. His breathing hastened as the knife makes its way lower to the cleft of his pecks. Majesty’s smile is haunting, their eyes shadowed by their soft bangs. “...but are you not the one in charge, Czar?” He nods slowly, obediently between his raised arms, “Yes.” f*ck . The blade breaks cloth and skin as it travels, marring the white dress shirt with a moist crimson. “You would be correct. You are the one leading the Crown Five. You are the one to be punished for the failures of your subordinates.” f*ck . Yes. Majesty leans forward, kissing at the wound delicately. Desperate gasps turn to heated pants, Czar unable to focus as his eyes fall shut. The knife slides down his side, making small jumps over his ribcage, leaving a soft trail of red in its wake. The stinging causes Czar to slip out a moan, despite the biting of his lip to mute himself.

“No. Let me hear your screams, it’s been far too long... my pet.”

Czar cries out as he feels the blade on his lower abdomen, creeping its way to his aching groin. Majesty leans back, admiring his artwork on Czar’s skin; a scarlet painted canvas. Reaching forward with deft fingers, the zipper gives way and Czar’s dick stands at full attention. “Disgusting.” Majesty mumbles, the tip of the knife pin pricking the sides of the head. Czar quivers, watching as the blood surfaces on the erect tip as tiny droplets. He watches intently, feeling the nails around his wrist chew at the sensitive skin. The weapon slides its way down, tracing the pulsing vein like an escort. The cold cheek of the blade presses against his dick, a rather painful feeling compared to the heat emanating off his body. “C-Cha-” He tries to speak, leaning forward against his straining arms, hair cascading down to stick to his bloodied chest. Majesty giggles as the knife traces the base with its point, “No. Not yet. You must be patient. You can do that for me, right Czar? Be patient?” Czar was close, on the brink. Yet, he would listen…

He always listens.

Time pass as Majesty marks Czar, fragmenting him as pleas escape his parted lips, music to the dominant one’s ears. These are not pleas for freedom, cries for help, or weeps of distress. He is begging Majesty for more. The want, no, need, for more pained pleasure from his master. A hand bats at his co*ck; much like a cat does with its prey, thrashing him around harshly as he nears breaking point at the master’s subjugation. Majesty though, is cruel. Forcing Czar to concentrate on the matters about the business. He retells, trembling, about Monarch’s research, Empress’s bars and shows, and of Baron’s misfortune. Majesty nods along at the last tale, having caught the tail end of the meeting upon arrival. As they continue speaking to Czar, their pace hastens as they think back to the mess they made in the hall. Hand in a vice grip, the dick pulsates within their fingers. “...Two days are perfect. All within the plan accordingly.”

Czar can’t handle it, the grip too much for his feeble thoughts. “f*ck, p-please, I’m going...I’m gonna...” He propels forward, his dick brushing into the soft palm of his captor’s hold. This alone nearly takes him over the edge. Majesty scowls, unhappy that the fun is coming to an end. Czar shouts; not out of torment, but out of desperation, the claws of his subduer digging into him as it strokes in painfully slow, calculated motions. In a fluid act, the knife is bludgeoned into the backing of Czar’s throne; embedding itself millimeters from his neck.

Majesty’s accuracy never wavers, always on its mark.

“Alright, you can cum on one condition...” Czar shudders as he feels the lips of Majesty graze his ear; the heated breath stinging the small cuts pierced into his skin. “...scream my true name.” That he does, body going fully rigid, the knife slicing thin nicks into his neck as his sanity rips from this physical plane. His mind blanks as their chests are glazed with his essence. He feels paralyzed for a few moments, body racked with pulsations as he rides out the reward for his patience. Bloodied yet satisfied, he nuzzles into Majesty’s head, a relief racking through him. Majesty smiles, rosy cheeks stretching as a satisfied grin that graces their face.

Releasing Czar’s wrists, Majesty can’t help but to caress the mess of Czar’s chest, mixing the fluids like a beautiful piece of art. “Now,” Majesty stands, retrieving the knife as they step back, admiring their work. “...what do we say?” Czar slips between consciousness while he smiles, his arms collapsing to his sides. “...Thank you...” He feels numb and senseless, the lack of proper blood flow in his arms and the strength of his release still going strong. Majesty leans back into the table on their hands, empty eyes watching him like a fresh kill in the wild. Czar’s breathing falters and vision fades, drowsiness taking its hold like a smothering blanket. A voice in the impending darkness calls out to him, he pushes his consciousness to attention. Just a little longer, he tells himself. He’s slipping too fast, he would need to rest here until Monarch fetches him. No one would bother him for a few hours here at the very least. The voice speaks in a demanding tone and Czar is finally able to open his eyes with a smidgen of focus. He watches gleefully as the knife makes its way to Majesty's lips, licking clean the reward of their fun.

“Thank you, what?”

“...Thank you...Chara…”

Chapter 7: Three Is Perfect Company, Sometimes

Chapter Text

You f*cked up.

You broke your mantra, your rule, your way of life…

You made yourself a target.

Sitting alone at the bar, you contemplate your next actions. Sans and Grillby have been chatting for about thirty minutes so far while you’ve sat silent, deep in your thoughts. Frisk and M.K. have long since left, returning safely to their homes. You? You're at home too, but you feel far from safe. The Crown Five, Sans confessed, is the largest Northside gang which came to power about two years ago. It’s one you’ve heard on the news, from the confessions of the popular Mettaton. He’s a famous radio host who got into a scuffle with a few of their men. Mettaton’s announcement only helped the Crown Five gain popularity, though, among the humans as a form of propaganda against monster-kind. They blamed Mettaton for the whole incident, even when he had proof of the contrary. The first time you heard his pained display of anguish, you couldn’t help but to tear up, his singing and performances were a rare treat for you when you’re alone during your days off. Thankfully; since he is a robot, after all, recovery for him was just overnight.

At the moment, however, none of this was of any concern to you. Right now, you feel hollow, empty and drained. These past two days have been too much; from unknowingly saving your boss to protecting some kids, both of which dragged you down to the same hellhole. Questions keep bouncing around in your head, nearly driving you mad. “What would you do now? Would you have to leave? Go undercover, start a different life, obtain a new identity? How the hell do you even do that!? Would you ever be safe again?” Your back aches as you sit up, jumping off the barstool. You need a drink, something strong if possible. Surely Grillby wouldn’t mind if you downed something yourself, he could always dock it from your pay if he feels petty enough. You step into Grillby’s usual standing place, glancing over the empty pub. Would...would you really have to leave this place, the first place your heart has truly dubbed, ‘home’?

Your shot glass clanks against the lower pouring shelf, anxiety guiding your hand into a mild fit of quivers.. While One and Two maybe outside at their posts, Sans and Grillby maybe just feet away; all four may be here... yet... you feel afraid. Fragile. Vulnerable. You should have just kept your head down, looked the other way, turned tail and ran. Now, your choice has you here, pouring a shot of straight whiskey, droplets of liquor splashing around the glass as your aim falters. You gulp down a shot, then another two; accepting the burn with the little strength left in you. It hurts your throat, but the heat reminds you that you are alive, that you're here within the bar’s safety. You return the liquor to its shelf home, washing the small shot glass by hand in the rarely touched bar sink. The liquid didn’t do much to hamper you panicked mood, or alleviate the aches within you. The adrenaline saw to it that you never took notice of the pain and soreness that wracked your body, assuming they all have been relieved with a night’s rest. Even now, the pangs of physical exhaustion continue to burn at the senses; both incidents doing nothing positive for your body’s recovery.

It is then that you notice a small bag at the edge of the bar. You beam a bright smile; attitude amplified by the alcohol, as you pop open the package with curiosity. Within the confines of the bag you discover the little red confectioneries Grillby treats you to, Monster Candy! You snatch up the slightly transparent parcel and take a seat on a barstool, your excitement causing the seat to spin. How hadn’t you noticed this earlier? This is the perfect cure! You pause while reaching in, the tips of your fingers brushing over the hard outer shells. Would this be rude? To take one without his permission? Shifty eyes began to survey your surroundings, your eyes nervously trailing over to the closed office door, just within the kitchen. Maybe he wouldn’t notice just one missing? Just one tiny piece of candy? What harm could it do? You reach in and grab one between your fingers, gazing at it as you place the bag down. It seems a bit more opaque than before, could it be that this batch is more concentrated? Whatever. You really could care less right now. You pop it in your mouth, frowning from the lack of cinnamon sugar flavor, or any flavor for the matter. It clicks around you teeth as your tongue pushes it about. It begins to chip away, again no taste, so you shrug, swallow it as it breaks apart. Gross, like swallowing...swallowing…

Fffffffuuuuuuccccckkkkkkk

You lurch forward, grasping the edge of the bar top with white knuckles. Heat blossoming from the pit of your stomach and branching out, like rapid weeds, throughout your extremities. Are, are you floating? If not, you feel as though you are. Your vision hazes over, forcing you to blink and rub your eyes to regain focus. Was this... was this all from the candy? Definitely a bad batch. A feeling catches you off guard as you attempt to stand, a glistening shine on your exposed skin. Hot. You feel so hot. Your jacket is lost in a panic, the cloth collapsing on the floor in a rush. Still too hot. Gloves, boots, and socks follow suit; the warmed air kissing your skin, doing nothing to cool it. Grillby, you have to get to him, tell him there’s something wrong. Just steps away from the bar, a spasm between your legs hitches your breath, forcing you to stumble into the door frame. You’re lucky to catch yourself, gripping the metal frame of the kitchen’s entrance way. It’s touch is cool on the pads of your hands, a moan escaping between your knitted lips. Yet, you’re still hot. Your slacks fall to the ground, the sound of your belt clattering on the linoleum. You look down in surprise, a wetness travelling down your inner thighs. Something comes over you; natural instinct perhaps, as your free hand caresses the other side of the material. It’s wet; moist and welcoming. Ready. Your finger travels further upward until it reaches a particular spot, causing you to gasp. You cry out as a wave of heat crashes throughout your now, excruciatingly sensitive frame. Again. Again!

Your panties seem to resonate with your distress, sliding to the side with the greatest of ease, a simple pull of the fingers doing the trick. A peculiar smell hits you and you feel feverish, your breathing increasing into quick pants. It's your scent; strong and heavy, like a undiluted perfume. A swipe of your fingers over your weeping lips forces a shiver throughout you. It’s odd, looking at your fingers to spy such a lewd admission of your arousal. It’s a white sticky substance, like that of a silken web. Another swipe of your fingers rewards you with more, your inner thighs coated by your essence. You shouldn’t be doing this, Grillby is just steps away, stop! He can help! But… you can’t stop. Your mind clouds over as two fingers part the lips, beginning their exploration of your valley. Your knees begin to quake as you thrust within yourself. The shifting your fingers and the movement through your entrance hastens as the coil in your belly tightens. Enough! Stop! You pause, the throbbing around your fingers urging you to continue. You feel conflicted, making your way to the office door; you need… help.

“grillbz, that kid’s gonna get herself in trouble if she stays here. y’know that, right?” Sans sighs, resting against the oak desk. Grillby nods, arms crossed as he leans back into his chair. “...I know, but, she has nowhere else to go, Sans.” Sans pulls out a fresh cigar, offering the foot towards the fireball. Grillby reaches forward, lighting the tip with a flick of his thumb. “thanks. now, i think i could talk the boss into givin’ her some sort of a reward. seriously, she saved those two when sh*t coulda gone down nasty. some gold in hand could at least buy her some time ‘til she finds something in northside. no family or nothin’ up there?” Grillby shakes his head, running a hand through his flames. “...None that she has ever spoken about in the past six months.” Sans takes a deep drag, exhaling out a heavy fog between his teeth with a hiss. “well, i mean i could see ‘bout hookin’ up some connections. she’d have to-” The office door creaking open silences their conversation, as they turn in surprise to see you peek your head around the corner.

“B-Boss… I n-need… I need...”

You step forward into the room, shakily with crimson decorating your flesh. Only in your sweater and undergarments now; your arms shake at your side, threatening to relieve you. Right here, right now; in front of your boss and a stranger. Your legs nearly give out as you feel their eyes travel over you, “T-That candy…” You trail off, your fingers twitching as they make their way towards your front, no longer in your control. “...I think it’s a gone bad. A-Ah…!” You thumb brushes against the soft material, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as energy courses through you once more. Grillby stands sharply, beside the skeleton as they both share glances. “uh, candy? grillbz?” Sans places his cigar down on the tray beside his hat. Scratching the back of his skull, utter confusion plague his bones as he averts his eyes. Damn, the sight before him really making his bones rattle. He could practically smell you from there, the tobacco smoke hindering him from inhaling you deeper. Your aroma is quite delicious in fact; like a pure, rich honey. Maybe he could get a taste? Wait, what?! Focus Sans! Grillby shakes his head, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts that are synonymous to his fellow monsters’. He turns to you with flicker and a flair, “...What candy?”

You whine, your body listing forward as you feel light headed. You fall into a hard chest before you, a satin vest softening the blow. “heh, fall in’ for me already sweetheart? we only just-mfprht!” Your lips press against his teeth, silencing him. He realizes these are the softest lips he’s ever felt, so terribly soft against him. He finds it quite difficult to retreat, the passion pouring into his soul from the mere contact with you very overwhelming. Desperately you claw against his vest, wrapping your fingers around his tie to deepen the kiss. More! You find yourself staggering back by a powerful tug on your shoulders. Grillby is standing behind you, steadying you with a shaken grip. Your hands fall weakly from as Sans steps back, a pure look of heated bafflement on his perpetually smiling facade. “h-holy sh*t, the hell's goin’ on?” He tries to compose himself, beads of sweat dripping from his skull.

You feel your friend spin you around to face him, your hands instinctively falling onto his chest to grasp at his dress shirt, cardigan long since discarded a time ago. He whispers your name as your face nuzzles against him, the contact clearing your mind for but a moment. “...I ate a piece of monster candy,” You place soft a trail of kisses up his torso, moaning as you reach the touch of his neck. The flames lick your face as your press your chest into his, the warmth easing the tightness within your breast. “...from the baggie at the bar.” You do not hear it in your state of mind, but the skeleton’s breath hitches behind you. Grillby glances over to him, holding you close while you return to your teasing, the royal blue only increasing further on his cheeks. “Sans, I don’t have any candy at the bar.” He states blatantly, a hint of worry crackling along with his fire.

Sans’s smile stalls as he crosses his arms over his disheveled clothed chest. “you don’t think she… no... well, they haven’t been tested on humans yet, so i wouldn’t know the reaction... but…hmmm…?” He steps forward, left eye flaring into a marriage of blue and yellow magic. Grillby nods as he turns you about, your uncertainty as to what’s happening flashing in your eyes. He places a hand against your chest; a silent, shuddering sigh fleeing you from the contact. “W-Wait, that's…” You whimper as you feel a tug at your core. “‘eh, woah there.” Sans shields his eye sockets as he attempts to examine your soul. It’s shining terribly bright before them, an odd speckle of ruby among a sea of emerald. Your back arches as the tips of his boney fingers scrape against the exterior, Grillby holding you back by your arms. “P-Please, I…I...” You try to articulate, shivering with every stroke of his touch.

Grillby watches protectively as Sans touches your soul, waiting at any moment to call it back into you. He has his full trust in the bone man, but you’re his best friend, he would never forgive himself if you were to get hurt... again. Grillby tenses as Sans’s pinprick eyes meet his, “she took a determination pill, grillbz. we’ve haven’t tested it yet on humans. so... i don’t know if this is an isolated incident or not but,” He glances down at you, your thighs rubbing into each other as you plead for them to touch you under your breath, “best bet is that we have to uh, y’know, that or else her soul might burn out. too much determination, yeah?” Before Grillby can respond, you lean into his grasp, grinding into him with your rear. He takes a sharp breath in, slowly releasing it out to calm himself. “...I-Is that okay with you? I don’t want to see you hurt.” He groans, the pressure of you against him growing more intense. You look up at him, tears visible within your misty vision, “Grillby, Sans…please. Do something, anything, to me.”

Grillby takes you to the side, guiding you over to his office couch. This is one you’ve crashed on after many a busy night shifts. It comfortably fits you when you stretch out for a nap, allowing your legs to fully stretch out when you snuggle into the single pillow. However, now it's going to be used to; hopefully, fit the three of you. Grillby takes his seat first, allowing you to crawl into his lap. Sans follows suit, taking a seat at the further end of the couch, leaning against the arm with his back. You struggle to remove your sweater, the heat while sitting on your friend’s lap unbearable. Grillby gives you a hand, helping pull it over your head. The sweater falls onto the ground behind you, leaving you only in your dark colored bra and panties. Your head falls into the crook of Grillby’s neck as his shaky hands rest on your chest, thumbs softly caressing your sensitive nubs through the restrictive fabric. Your eyes peek open as you peer over to Sans, a nice cyan blush covering his features. His one eye socket still an empty abyss, the eye raging with magic which he watches Grillby’s every movement. Sans’s breath sounds shaky as you thrust your breast into Grillby’s welcoming grasp, a purr of delight groaning from your throat.

Oh, a watcher, is he?

Your soul wills itself back into your chest, the feeling amplified once more as your tongue sneaks out between your lips. The heat has returned with vengeance. Your fingers grip into the opening of his dress shirt, a surprisingly feral growl filling the air. Shocked, Grillby watches as you easily rip open his shirt, buttons popping off to the side to reveal his chest. “...Grilby,” you coo, “shall we continue from last night?” You drag your nails down his chest, your words and actions threatening to burn even brighter than the elemental’s own body, scooting closer into his lap so both your lower regions making contact. You let out a whimper, he’s so wonderfully warm against your hidden folds. “Mmmm...nnnah…” Your name crackles from the hearth of his mouth with a panted breath, he’s already quite excited it seems. “l-last night?” You hear Sans speak up, smile twitching with curiosity. You giggle without answering him, your hands snaking around your back. You fumble with your bra, but are quite thankful to see it fall from your shoulders, revealing the nude skin to the boys. You yelp as Grillby tugs you up, forcing you up onto your knees in a kneeling position. Your breast come right to Grillby’s face, your hands fall onto his shoulders for balance.

“Mmm-hahh….G-Grillby!”

Like that of a dragon, his tongue flicks across your perked nipples with fiery lashes. You want to cave forward, fall into him as he drains you of your strength. As you begin to shift, you find yourself being held up, strong fingers holding you steady. “now, now,” breathes a deep voice in your ear, when had Sans moved? “...behave yourself sweetheart. let us care for you, properly.” You lean back into his chest, his hands crawling down to meet with Grillby’s lips. Bone fingers pinch your nipples as the fire tongue laps at them, a new wave of sensation bubbling in your belly. You lament quietly, attempting to comprehend this feeling growing within you. “A-Ah!” You cry out, arching as a hand slips into your panties. Grillby looks up at you, an adde filled glance behind his glasses. “...You’re so wet. I could just-”

?!

A trail of drool trickles down your chin as you feel your eyes roll back. He slipped two fingers within you, your natural arousal beckoning him in with ease. Sans struggles to hold you, watching you buck your hips into Grillby’s hand. “There, there! Please, oh f*ck…” Your words tumble from you as you lose control. An unfamiliar sensation comes crashing down on you as Grillby’s thumb presses against the northern roof of your core. “f*ck! I-I’m, I’m-!” Like a lit match falling on a trail of gasoline, a blaze rips through your nerves from your abdomen to the tips of your fingers and toes. Grillby’s fingers never slow, keeping a consistent pace as you ride out your org*sm. Moments pass, muscles twitching and thoughts attempt to unscramble themselves. As your breathing slows he removes his fingers, licking them clean with his tongue. Your taste is heavenly to his lips, like a fine bourbon. “f*ck sweetheart, that was intense.” Sans whispers, stroking your scalp through your hair. He goes to step back, but suddenly finds himself caught by his tie. “‘eh? what’s up-?!” He’s yanked downwards, your sharp eyes locking with his.

“Did I say we are finished?”

Bone clashes with skin once more with a surprising amount of calculated force despite the odd positioning of your craned neck. Sans nearly stumbles from being thrown off balance, your lips overpowering him. Your hands reach up to caress his face, the bone feels cool against them. Fingers retreat from your sex, leaving you feeling empty and still quite needy. As you softly lick at the skeleton’s teeth in hopes for more contact, you can hear a buckle clicking below you. “mrfm… ah…...nnn!” Sans groans as his teeth part; displaying rather sharp canines and a transparent, glowing azure tongue. It dances with yours, sending thrills deep within you, pooling between your legs. The need for more growing with every second, desperation commanding your every movement. While your senses are fairly occupied with Sans, you can vaguelyfeel your panties being pulled aside. An unsteady warm grip laces itself on your hips, lowering you until something presses at your entrance. Grillby’s breathing is heavy as he controls himself, reminding you of wind blowing onto a burning torch. “...H-Hold still... I don’t want to hurt you.” Yeah, f*ck that. Once aligned, you allow yourself to drop into his lap, engulfing him into your lower secret.

“...Ngh!?”

“Grill-ah! Yes!”

“oh sh*t!”

Sans and Grillby stare down at you, both a bit shaken. Have you been hurt? Have they gone too far? Too sudden? Apparently, they didn’t realize you did this on purpose, not realizing just how much power you have. You aren’t having it, both of their paces too slow for comfort. Too leisurely to cure the ache within you. With little focus, you feel your inner walls constrict around the foreign heat, stirring a groan from the monster it belongs to. “...Nnnnn...hah...d-damn!” Grillby curses as you begin to gyrate your hips, rolling them around on Grillby’s lap. The panties feel a tad bit on the uncomfortable side as they restrict you, but a shift in their position drags the rolled fabric against your cl*t; a new wave of fire bursting within you. A pressure against your back has you hum in curiousity, opening your eyes as you nip at the skeleton’s ghastly magic tongue. Your mouths separate, trails of saliva bridging between your lips and his maw. You hold a finger up to Grillby; who halts his movements, huffing to himself as he keeps from thrusting. God, you feel amazing around him.

In a shift of motions, you turn around on his lap, keeping him as best you can inside. This position has you taking him further into you, the new sensation causing a whimper to slip out as you adjust. You resume rotating your hips, back arching as he hits special spots within you. As you are about to speak, Grillby’s strained voice reaches your ear, his flame tongue tickling your neck. “...You are just absolutely amazing, my dear. However,” You feel his warm hand gather in your hair, turning you upward. “...don’t forget that there is another here.” Sans stands before you, straining to hold himself back. A catty grin crosses you as you nod, reaching forward to stroke at the outside of the dress pants. Sans reaches down, opening the fly of his trousers reveal a thick blue phallus, one that nearly makes your mouth water.

You reach forward, wrenching him closer with a belt loop. Thankfully the couch is low, allowing the shorter skeleton to stand at attention before your face, no need for any awkward bending of the neck. It’s blue aura reflects on your skin, turning it a pretty light blue as you draw near. You place a simple kiss on the head causes a rumble to escape Sans’s chest, a hand softly stroking your hair. You take him into your mouth, flicking your tongue around the head as you swallow around him. “f-f*ck, ugh...nn... you’re good.” Sans mumbles under his heavy breathing, allowing his hips to slowly thrust forward. You brace yourself, using your hand to stroke what you can not reach. Grillby resumes a slow thrusting pace, focusing on your lower half while you busy yourself with Sans. His thrusting actually helps you bobble your head around Sans, your moans sending pleasured trills that travel up Sans into his soul.

Grillby’s hands wrap their way to around your front, cupping your breast softly as support to his deeper thrusts. With one particular thrust against the roof of your pink cavern, your head shoots back as you gasp, a web of blue pre coating your lips and chin. Sans grunts, eye sockets knit closed as he steadies himself with your shoulders. “T-There! Do that again, please, Grillby!” You whimper, looking back at him with wide, desperate eyes. Grillby nods, eyes closing as he increases his pace. “F-Fah, nnngh, ha! Grill-mph!” Your silenced with a thrust by Sans, mouth stuffed with his co*ck. You groan, placing your hands on his hip bones for assistance as he makes deliberate focused thrusts into your mouth; nothing too deep to choke you, yet pleasurable enough to get him close. God, you’re getting him close. You're surrounded, filled by both of these boys, your senses engulfed by them. You won’t last much longer either. Grillby’s pace begins to falter, becoming uneven and spastic, he must be close too.

“hnng…. it's… too good…” Sans grip tightens on your shoulders, his body starting to arch over your head. “i hope it’s okay for me… to cum in your mouth… down your throat…ngh!” You do your best to nod, humming a small yes around him, sending him further into an internal spiral. “nnn! …ah… I'm… coming…! f*ck!” He throbs, twitching in your mouth as he releases with a groaning cry of gratification. You swallow what you can, noting it has very little taste, but there is a lot of it. He stumbles back to sit on the ground, looking up at you with an exhausted, pleased grin. You cough as you clear your throat of him, his essence dripping down your chin and onto your chest. “...Now my friend,” Whispers Grillby as he presses his chest into your back while leaning forward, kissing the crook of your neck with his intense lips. “...our turn.”

Your head falls back onto his left shoulder as you feel him enter and leave you, making you feel whole and empty with every gyration of his hips. Your legs spread wide to retain Grillby’s girth, offering Sans yet another tantalizing display. He is quite the voyeur, is he not? Just because he’s done, doesn’t mean he can’t continue enjoy the show. Your inner-walls; slickened with the combination of your juices from this impassioned session, feel themselves contract with each throb from his own excitement. “G-Grill...ah...d-don’t!” His right hand falls from your breast to between your legs, thumb rubbing against your sensitive button, creating your own series of pulsations to further tighten onto the burning spire within. “Nnnn-hah!” Grillby shouts into your neck, grunting your name, his fire flaring as you feel a familiar burning sensation within you. You follow moments after, back arched as you go ridged, powerful waves convulsing through each of your muscles. Tears of relief can’t help but sneak out, your body completely immersed with electrifying sparks. Sans watches in bliss as the two of you ride out your climaxes, the room’s intensity swirling with the magic and life of you three. If he wasn’t so tired now, he would love to go for another round.

You waver as Grillby lifts you off him, laying you down with your head on his rather cozy lap. Absolutely exhausted is an understatement, you feel like you ran a marathon; your body still aglow from the finale of your combined performances. “...Are you...okay?” Grillby whispers as he traces your facial features; fairly out of breath, drying away beads of sweat with his finger’s natural heat. You nod, eyes falling closed as you shiver, your internal temperature returning to normal; oh the sweet relief. “...T-Thank you, both of you,” your voice is dry and hoarse, you could go for a nice glass of water, “...I feel so much better.” You hear clothing shift and feel Sans presence close by, his hand hovering over your chest. The odd pull of your soul returns and you feel uneasy before the two monsters. They can see that the red, the determination, is fleeting and returning your being to its natural coloring.

Grillby adjusts his glasses, running his spare hand through his flames. He can hear your quiet snoring as you lose consciousness. “Well, that was all rather astonishing.” He comments, voice low to keep from rousing you. “heh, yeah,” Sans pushes your soul back within you and you smile in your sleep. He suppresses a yawn; man, he feels completely worn out, but he’s glad all has returned to normal. “she uh, really blew me away.” He cheekily grins and winks at the fire, who shakes his head in defeat. “Sans, at times you need a muzzle.” Grillby sighs as Sans snickers, shoving his hand into his pockets. Shrugging while he walks over to the desk; he collects his hat, placing it delicately over his head. “i’m gonna go speak with the boss and see what we can do about her. i got this feelin’ he’s gonna want to hear about this…” He clears his ‘throat’ as he waves his wrist out gesturing to the situation at hand, bones grinding against cloth. “...all of this.” Grillby nods, glancing down at your sleeping figure, so peaceful compared to earlier. “Call me once you have an answer, then I’ll know what to tell her...” He frowns as worry paints his face, “She’s a dear friend Sans, I need her safe.” The skeleton nods, turning on his heels, “no worries, grillbz, i’ll be sure she doesn’t have a bad time.” He waves goodbye, and with two steps, he fades into thin air. Grillby falls back into the couch, removing his glasses and hooking it on his-they fall onto his lap. Right.

“...This shirt is coming out of your paycheck.”

Chapter 8: See Ya Laters Are Better Than Goodbyes, Sometimes

Chapter Text

What...what happened? Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself alone on an empty couch. Momentarily confused, you recognize that you're in Grillby’s office. Did you have a tough shift last night and couldn’t make it to bed? Wouldn’t be the first time. You sit up, holding the thin blanket to your chest, covering your shivering body. As you attempt to stand; you groan, your leg muscles feel like jelly. In fact, most of your body feels very limber, as if you completed a nice workout. Glancing down, your breath hitches. Wait… you’re naked and wobbly? Recollection flashes through your mind like a dirty movie, you feel yours sins crawling up your back. Dear. God. What have you done?! “G-Grillby?!” You nearly shout, you need to explain things and have things explained in return. You storm out the door, using your free hand to balance against the wall while the other holds the blanket around you like a cape. You feel like a newborn foal taking its first steps. To your surprise, you find him cooking by the stove. He greets you nonchalantly, holding up a spatula in a mock wave. “...Yes?”

You stand petrified, trying to collect your words. “I, well, uh... so…” You saunter over, taking a lone seat behind the metal countertop. “...that all happened. Didn’t it?” Worry trembles in your breathes; god, did you just ruin your only chance for a possibly normal life? Had you crossed some monster human interspecies line? Maybe not with your best friend, but the skeleton? Would Sans even want to help you now? What kind of human does he think you are? Does he think you’re some sort of slu*t? A whor*? What if-BONK You feel the tip of a spatula bop you on your forehead, snapping you back to attention. “...don’t you know not to take a stranger's candy?”You stare up at the chef with slight disbelief; was he not taking this as serious as you are? Were you taking this too serious? Maybe you’re just over thinking this all. Flustered, you cross your arms and glare at him fully perturbed at this event. “Hey! It looks exactly like the candy you gave me this morning! I… well, I guess I shouldn’t have taken it… but nonetheless! What were those things?!” You puff out your bottom lip, full on pout face. Anyone could have taken the ‘candy’ by mistake, they were just sitting out after all! It wasn’t completely your fault for eating one by accident. Well, maybe it was, but that’s not something you’re just going to admit!

Grillby turns around, two plates of burgers in hand. The smell hits you and your stomach can’t help but to cry out for joy. Oh, shut up you! You’re trying to act serious right now! You take your plate begrudgingly, picking up the bun to munch on it first. It’s an odd quirk Grillby picked up on the first day you came in as a customer; instead of eating the whole burger at once like a ‘normal’ person, you take it in sections, piece by piece at a slow pace, enjoying the flavor of each bite uniquely. It always gets on your boss's nerves, as if you are taking apart his artwork. Having a fuller stomach makes your own nerves settle, but the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your core is still there. Wait, he didn’t answer your question! “Well, Boss? Those were not the normal candies you usually give me.” He takes a bite of his burger as he leans back against the stovetop. “...Well, that’s the point. Those aren’t exactly legal afterall.” He is way too calm to be telling you this! “W-What do you mean, not legal? Did, was, huh? Was I drugged?!” You sit your burger down, shaken with the thoughts.

“Well,” He teeters his head side to side; again, too damn casual, and places his half eaten burger down. “...yes and no,” Thanks, that really cleared things up. He must notice your sassy inner monologue since he holds up a finger to silence your scowling. He walks out of the kitchen for a few moments, returning to place two candy bags in front of you. “...Can you tell which are which?” You stare at the nearly indistinguishable bags of vermilion confectionaries. You learn forward, peering into the bags. Nope, this doesn’t help either; even their scents are identical. You shake your head as you sit back, “Well, you can’t blame me for mixing up the two then.” He nods, “...That is the point. The one on your left is the real candy, the one of the your right is the determination pill. A prototype designed; not yet tested mind you, for aiding monsters. Determination has been found to have quite the powerful effects on we monsters, helping better form our physicality at the correct calculated dose.”

Your head bobs in agreement. You were taught long ago that what we see of monsters are actually their souls and magic; as humans are to blood and bone. Their bodies don’t share the same physical protection that human bodies have, making them at risk to taking damage quite easily if not careful. Human souls hide deep within one's being, only dragged out through the power of monster magic, a true weakness. While in thought you glance towards the displayed items. You honestly could not tell the difference had he not told you, and it wasn’t like you were going to chance it by taking one again to prove his words. “Wow, I can’t even tell.” You poke at the bags to feel the candies, they feel the same too. “Let me guess, it's so you guys can smuggle these secretly? Right?” You admit, and he looks at you a bit on the astonished side. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that look. I’ve lived here in Southside for a while now, this isn’t a complete surprise.” You pout, sticking your tongue out at him. You could put two and two together. Street smarts are more of your forte than that of book smarts due to your upbringing anyway.

He shakes his head, grabbing his burger to resume eating. “Valid point there. So you know, I did ask Sans when he called as to why the candy was here in the first place.” He takes a bite of the burger and swallows. “Spoke to him just a few minutes before you a woke up actually.” Another bite, another pause. “He brought them with when he came to check on the kids; leaving them on the counter while we spoke in the office.” In a final bite he finishes the burger, dragon tongue gracefully licking a dirtied finger clean. You can't help but to shy away your glance; it's too soon of a reminder of the earlier activities. “He didn’t think anyone would think twice about them, let alone you eating one.” You hum to let him know you understand, chewing at the last bit of your burger. That explains where they came from at least. Wait, he spoke to Sans? You need more answers, but would it be too soon to ask? “Did,” You swallow the last bit of burger bun, a dry swallow that hurts your throat, “...did he give you an answer by the way? About helping me out… ya’know, getting a new place and all?” He falls silent as he crosses his arms before his chest, nodding slowly as fear and sadness swirls in your eyes. To a your surprise he smiles at you and you give a weak smile back in return. Good news, hopefully? “...They are going to take you in.” He states, a flicker of joy behind his spectacles. Eh? You perk up, brows furrowed and eyes wide with alarm.“What? They, who? Into what? Huh?” You blink and co*ck your head to the side, confusion plastered over the fear. “...Into the syndicate, of course. As I am tied to Gaster for protection, you would be too.”

Holy. sh*t.

Your vacant stare worries Grillby a bit, as he waves his hand before your face. Was he serious? First off, you’re human, and he’s part of the largest monster gang probably in the whole world. Second, you’re not exactly mob-grade material. Outside of cooking, your skills are very minimal. You can cook and make people laugh through friendly conversation. Yeah, ten out of ten skill right there. That should definitely help during negotiations, dealings, or whatever they do. Yeah f*cking right. Third, what would you even do to repay them for doing this? Is there anything you could even do to repay them? Worse, what would you owe them and have to give in return? You feel the heat around your face increase and the sound of snapping, oh, it's Grillby trying to grab your attention. “G-Grillby, are you serious?!” You jump up, losing the blanket as you stand naked, trembling with shock. He chuckles, nodding as if this was all obvious. “Yes, for your protection you are to stay at the headquarters for now. Sans spoke with Gaster, then with me. Apparently, Sans had a bit of help swaying Gaster, as it did take some time to persuade him…” He trails off, drawing in a slow deep breath as you feel your throat tighten. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that you wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms, you are human after all.

“O-Oh, right. Should… should I get my, my things then?” You choke out, the lump in your throat thrumming as you attempt to speak. He glances away, his flames flickering low, “...Yes. River; uh, their driver, will be here within the next hour or so. Just pack clothing, the rest will be shipped within the week.” Your glance falls as you're quick to turn, hastily walk to your room to hide. To hide from your fate that is leaving this place. Your heart aches as you feel tears slip down your cheeks. You’re going to lose your home, your job, your best friend; all because you decided to act on impulse?! Damnit! Your door slams harshly behind you as you fall to your knees, burning them against the carpet. Where were you going to live now? Just where was this so called headquarters? Were you going to leave Southside to get there? Leave here, home... forever?

Right... Your home; once a place of comfort and security, now has turned into a target of fret and fright. Prey; if you are to stay here you would be cornered, a mouse counting down the days until you're caught by the stalking cats. You glance around the apartment; you never did have the chance to put your personal touches to the room, something you’re starting to regret. Of course there’s your bed, a small plastic table, your precious radio, clothing discarded here and there, a dish or two next to the small hand sink… yet… it’s still so barren. There’s nothing here that marks it as your home; someone could come in here and be none the wiser that this was tenant occupied. You just never had the time to decorate the place, claim it as your own. There are no hobbies scattered about, no signs of friends who have come to visit, no pictures of family...

Now; as you look around your room, you begin to sense an odd feeling creep up your spine. It takes a moment; as you shakily stand, a small clarity of realization hits you. This isn’t your home, just a momentary place to live. You were supposed to move out sooner or later anyway, a more permanent housing after a year or so of full-time employment. Work… work is your home, your hobby, and where your friends are; this is what you are being forced to leave behind. You’re not upset about leaving this, but leaving here; Grillby’s. You step over to your small basket of clothing, shoving them into a luggage bag from your closet. It’s just a few articles of clothing; roughly a week’s worth of underclothes, shirts, and slacks. You slip on some nice yet comfortable clothing... guess this would be your goodbye outfit, huh? Might as well attempt to look good for them, despite your personal opposing raw state. It takes you a few minutes, but you gather all of your uniforms to place them delicately on the bed, neatly folded. Guess the boss should save these for the new hire. You hold a lone bow tie in your hand, it's the first one Grillby gave you when you became an employee. It was a gift, so did you really have to give it back?

A light rapping at your door stalls your actions, you mumble a quiet permission of entry below your breath. The entryway grows warm and you can feel the goosebumps form on your arms, welcoming his heat. You hadn’t even noticed how cold the room had been, so preoccupied with your task at hand. A weight graces itself on your shoulder and you can see his blazing fingers in the corner of your eye. Your grasp tightens against the silk accessory, “C-Can I…” Keep this, please? You can’t finish your sentence as you suppress a sob, biting it back as best you can. You don’t want to forget these past six months, they’ve been the best days of your life until recently. The hand shifts, crossing over your chest to meet with another; lacing themselves as you're pulled backwards into his chest. “Shhhh… Do not worry. I’ll be sure to visit. Maybe bring you your favorite french fries? Extra crispy, no?” He coos above you, and you can’t help but to stifle a giggle. He mutters your name under his breath, the wispy heat tickles your scalp. “...Although...I can’t guarantee they will still be crispy by the time you got them.” He chuckles, nuzzling his warm face into your hair.

You step away and with a steady twirl you turn to face him. You glance up at him while wiping away a few stray tears with your sleeve. God, you were gonna miss this fireball. “D-Do you promise to call me on your days off?” You question while scuffing your feet on the ground and fumbling with the black fabric. Grillby firmly nods, as if you have in fact stated the obvious… which you probably did. “Do you promise to let me know if anything happens to you... or the bar... while I’m gone?” You hold the adornment to your chest as if it would calm the anxious palpitations. Grillby steps forward, extracting the necktie from your hands. You whine quietly as he takes it, wanting to keep it for your own. You shiver as you feel his hands near your nape, the warmth an aura of solace. “...I...” He glides your hair back over your shoulders, threading the necktie around your throat. His fingers work with an experienced dexterity as he finishes looping the cloth into a perfect little bow. “...promise.”

One and Two are gone for the evening, leaving the two of you alone before the bar. It has a slight glow to it within the night, only amplified by that of the owner. A welcoming radiance the customers are beckoned to each evening… now, this luminescent glow is that of a departing farwell. The air is stagnant as you watch your misty breath dissipate into the night. No one is out in the streets at this time of nightfall during winter, a pleasant serenity between the two of you. There isn’t any snow falling; too bad, you always got a kick out of catching the descending white on your tongue. It’s the rare ounce of purity down here in Southside after all. Well, as pure as snowfall within a city can be, right? Would there be snow at the headquarters too? Grillby didn’t quite elaborate with the details, but he says it's not terribly far away from the bar. HQ is a few hours away at max; still too far for your taste, but if it meant you were safe… you would deal. You could deal. Psh, who are you kidding? Until this maelstrom of a situation settles and you’re in the clear… you really don’t have a choice. The flare of car lights catch your eyes, and you shift to hide within Grillby’s shadow. He remains calm as he places a comforting touch on your shoulder. “...You’re ride is here.”

A. Goddamn. Limo.

You stand momentarily stunned, glancing out from behind the bartender. “Woah? For real?” You quip, stepping forward to look at it. It’s shiny and spotless, despite having driven on the soiled ice filled roads. You can even see your crystal clear reflection in the back windows, you look. “...Ah River, good evening.” Grillby speaks up and you turn to the front of the car, a rather flowing figure in full cover is walking towards you. The doors must be really quiet, you didn’t even hear them get out. “Oh, hello River, it’s nice to meet you.” You crack a half smile and reach down for- EEP! You jump in surprise, wasn’t River just like, twenty feet away a second ago? You glance up to their hooded face while their gloved hand hovers under yours, already grabbing your luggage’s handle. Even their eyes are hidden within the shadow of their driver cap’s brim. Your hand retracts and you apologies sheepishly; guess this is part of their job after all, right? They nod in return, grabbing the two bags resting in the snow to place them in the back. Each of their movements are oddly fluid, moving without a moment’s hesitation.

“Well,” you turn to your boss, your dear friend and give him a broken smile, “...guess it’s time for me to go?” His flames dip as he steps closer, squeezing you into a quick hug which you gratefully return. You let out a slow sigh and watch his fiery wisps dancing with your exhaling breath. “...Do take care of yourself. If anything comes up, call me…” Your embrace breaks and you step towards the limo, flashing a grin back at him. “...day off or not.” The last thing he should see before you depart should be your smile. “Hey, don’t forget that Dogaressa and Dogamy always share a plate.” You speak up as River opens the limo door and you slide into the first seat. “Oh! Mister Doggo can’t see very well, always say when you near him!” You call out as you crawl deeper into the limo, it has a mini bar inside?! “And their deck of cards are in my old apron! You’ll have to replace them ‘cause they probably got wet!” You shout, sitting on your knees as you gaze out the side window. You see him nod to your muffled advice from within the vehicle.

The limo roars to life and begins to pull off. Grillby’s flames retreat a bit as he watches the wheels begin to gain traction on the salted street. He can just barely see you within the tinted windows, but he can see you waving frantically. He waves back, a simple slow wave. The world has fallen noiseless without you. He pulls out his keys, turning to unlock the door. He really should catch up on paperwork, maybe have a glass or two of wine before bed. The work won’t be as fun without you around, nothing to break his focus, in a good way. Things would be like how they were before you came here months ago. Before you walked in as a poor stranger looking for their first decent meal in a long time. Before your bubbly personality rubbed off on his guests, and eventually, onto him. This place may be called Grillby’s, but more and more it felt like your name should be on the sign too. He can even imagine it now, your name spelled out cursively beside- “Grillby!” He hears you shout just as the front door clicks open. Turning his head, he watches as the limo drives by, heading down the hill it first climbed to pick you up. Your head and hands are sticking out the back window, a wild smile lingers on your teary-eyed face. Just as the limo disappears into the darkness, you call out one final word of advice,

“Most importantly!"

Grillby’s just won’t be the same without you.

"Don’t forget to restock the fries!”

Not the same at all.

Chapter 9: Research is Key, Sometimes

Chapter Text

f*ck, that stings!

A groan leaves his lips as he stirs awake, his eyes slow to open and adjust to the dimmed light. “O-Oh! Hiya Czar, sir, did I wake you?” Came a soft voice before him, followed by the sound of shifting. Slightly shaking his head, he blinks away the smalls specks of white in his vision. Looking to his right he confirms who he thought was caring for him, it’s little Celeste, his adopted daughter. Her bright blue eyes flicker with worry as she clutches the bandages in her hands. “M-Monarch sent me to help you since he’s busy in the front hallway. He didn’t say what he was d-doing, but that I shouldn’t look.” Celeste bites her lip with furrowed brows, she doesn’t like when the Crown Five hide things from her. She may be only around thirteen years old, but she can handle most of what they throw at her. She pulls her focus back on his wounds, ignoring the curvature of his muscles beneath her fingertips. So smooth… such beautiful bronzed kissed skin…

Ahem.

She never fails to bandage him correctly with a surprising amount of experience for someone her age. It's experience she’s not all too fond of from her past, a history best forgotten… Thankfully, thanks to Czar she never has to worry about them again. “S-Sir? Are you okay? Do you need anything? Water? I can go get you din-” She cut off with the soft patting on her head, Czar’s hand stroking the ribbon holding back her dark hair. His little Snow White. She flushes the same color as the ribbon, her short bangs covering her eyes as she shuns away. His affection towards her always causing a bit of shyness to spark within her. “...Finish bandaging me up, then I’ll think about dinner. Would you like to make me my favorite dish, Celeste?” He coos as he retracts his hand, resting it on the armrest. She perks up and pushes her shyness away, “Yes sir!”

She begins to work with haste, softly cleaning and mending each marred portion of his skin. She never really liked his um, ‘taste’, in what he finds ‘fun’. ‘Fun’ she learned of accidentally not long after her adoption, having walked in on him with… Nonetheless, she would always be there for him afterwards; to fix and heal him, like a good girl she must prove to him that she is. Potentially, the perfect housewife. Just for him, all for him. She giggles inwardly as she grabs the wet rag from the table. A whine whispers itself from her as he leans forward too, snatching up a file beside the warm water. She doesn't want his dressings to snap or fall slack. “Oh, Majesty left this for you before they left. I-I didn’t look! I swear!” She’s quick to confess, fearing he would be angry at her for one reason or another or for not showing him the paperwork sooner. He leans back into the chair, opening the file to peer at the notes. Ah, they are for the tasks ahead. Leave it to Chara, Majesty that is, to always have plans prepared ahead of time.

“What is the time?” He speaks as he focuses on the paperwork, Celeste’s quick fingers working on his neck’s nasty gash. “O-Oh, it’s around seven thirty or so, it’s been about two hours since you and M-Majesty…” She trails off, avoiding his glance with reddened cheeks as she wipes away his mess from his chest. She knows what it is, and she holds herself back from tasting it. She doesn’t want to appear that desperate for him, she’s learned better. Czar flips into a few pages within the report, pulling out an odd paper labeled for… Celeste? He mumbles quietly to himself, reading over the sections. He brightens up, tugging her quickly into his lap. She yelps in surprise, face nearly crashing into his mended pectorals. “S-Sir?” He handles her with ease, turning her about so that his chest presses into her back. She withholds a shiver as his breath tickles her neck.

“Celeste,” he whispers above her ear and she bites her tongue to keep in a moan. She loves when he says her name. “Y-Yes?” Her voice mimics his tone, yet their is a heated agenda behind it. She could listen to him all day, it doesn’t matter what he would even say to her. It always sends a thrill through her, heating the ugly part between her legs. Why must she already be so tainted? Too tainted for her perfect Czar? “Celeste.” Czar’s stern voice snaps her back to attention as she looks down at the paper he’s holding for her. She grabs it with both hands, peering quickly through the words. Wait… these are… “O-Orders? For me!” She beams, looking up at him. He nods in response, his lips placid as usual, she wishes she could see him smile. Make him smile. “It is time for you to earn your title.” She jumps up in reply, standing before him on bouncing excitedly on her bare heels. “M-Me! R-Really?! I-It’s an honor!” She quick to stutter out, clutching the orders within her arms like a winning lottery ticket. In some ways, it basically is.

A pleased look crosses his face, the familiar snarl flashing towards her. “Read through the orders, memorize each part without failure. On Wednesday; two days time, around noon you are to travel, alone, to Southside. I will have more information for you by tomorrow.” She nods without hesitation, a gesture of rare confidence displaying itself on her features. Czar reaches forward, tugging softly to adjust the bow above her bangs. “I have no doubt those creatures will even think twice about you, you’re too cute to seem at all threatening.” Don’t scream, don’t scream; keep calm, he just complimented her, that’s all. Just a nice gesture between father and daughter... she frowns inwardly at the words. “I won’t fail you, I-I promise!” She exclaims as her bouncing on her heels accelerates, her hair swaying back and forth with an increased force as a show of her excitement. She finally has a chance to prove to him, and the rest of the Crown Five, she is more than just a child in their eyes! “Now,” he places the file down onto the table, “...care to serve me dinner?” She’s gone within an instant, leaving meer dust in her hastened trail, never the patient one was she? Always in a hurry to please, never slows to consider her actions. A flawed, yet lovely broken doll his daughter is, but nothing more.

He sighs loudly as he stands, its sound echoing throughout the throne room. The lovely pain of the constrictive bandages help further draw his brain out of its fuzzy state. He must have lost more blood than he thought, he usually recovers from his meetups with Chara within an hour or so. Then again… Chara was actually quite mad this time. Rolling his head around, his neck cracks in response. “Aw, f*ck. Much better.” He walks to the end of the table with the file in hand, closer to the front entrance. “Monarch!” He demands and within seconds the glasses wearing figure pokes his head through the doors with a grim expression and an arched brow. “Yes, sir?”

A sharp gesture of Czar’s head has Monarch hastily walking forward, shoving bloodied gloves into his front coat pockets. Thankfully this lab coat was already soiled thanks to Empress and her ‘needs’. He crosses his arms as he approaches his leader, eyes traveling over the dressing on his chest. “I’ll have you know; there is still blood on the ceiling out there, and to be honest I don’t even know the calculations as to how much strength was needed to reach a twelve foot ceiling at that trajectory. The sheer intent behind each slash of their blade is astounding.” He commends Majesty as he comes to stand beside Czar, whose quick to cut off the man's complaining. “I forgot to ask during the meeting,” Monarch looks at the leader with a bit of shock; Czar, forgetting anything? His conclusions were true then, during the meeting he sensed Czar was not truly attending. Just kinda, there. “...what are the statuses of the creatures we captured?”

Ah yes, the one’s in the basem*nt. Monarch pulls out a silk cleaning cloth and begins to work on his frames, no matter how often he cleans them they always appear a bit hazy. Perhaps he should make himself a new pair? “I have them divided into three cells; the Alpha guard as they call themselves in Room A; simple to remember. Room B houses those monsters from that kitchen. That bird-like creature won’t stop crying for its family, had to sedate her once she got on my nerves... No worries, the sedatives will not have any long term affects to hinder the project.” Monarch replaces his spectacles onto the bridge of his nose; sighing, with no avail to cleansing the glass of its impurities.

“...We did have some issues. Baron’s men; the ever incapable, snatched the wrong monsters from the trailers. Thankfully they were not seen and we have yet to hear any reports from the scanners, so atleast they can be somewhat useful. Although I can’t quite blame them for the mix up, apparently the two monsters are siblings; sisters I believe, and do look quite alike. The monsters ended up being a few stage-hands and that robot’s talent agent, so not too far from our original goal. Seriously, we need Baron to get more intelligent men who follow directions!” Monarch spits rather icily, he shouldn’t have his research threatened by the failures of others. Czar waves him off with a flick of his wrist, grabbing papers from the file. “I’ll deal with Baron’s men later, but for now, all can resume as planned.” Czar hands Monarch a stack of papers to brief. “Fine…” The scientist grumbles, snatching up the papers. The dimmed lights dress him in an eerie glow as he flashes a haunted smirk; eyes hidden behind the glare of his eyewear.

“...let the experiment, begin.”

There’s a stilled hush in back of the limousine, but you make due as the time passes; watching out the windows and sipping on some bottled water from the bar. The ride to your new living quarters takes some time; thankfully, you doze through most of it, the purr of the engine a gentle lullaby into the night. The sound of the limo coming to a stop stirs you awake into a groggy haze. You squint over to the tiny clock towards the minibar, it's about midnight now. You’ve been driving for about three hours, allowing you a short nap before you arrive. You would really like a shower to freshen up, you feel just a bit too icky for your liking. You grumble quietly as you sit up, your back stiff from laying across the jutting out buckles. It cracks as you sit up, a pleased groan slips through your lips. Who knew limos even had seat belts? You scoot down to the opening door, carefully exiting as to not bump your head. River is humming quietly to themselves as they move about, grabbing your luggage weightlessly. Your gaze travels to your surroundings, and you’re not impressed.

Actually, it all looks sketchy so to speak. The building is bland, a slightly disheveled black and gray motif with hints of uncared for snow here and there. Were those old Christmas lights on the roof? It’s nothing special, but you didn’t expect too much for a headquarters. To stay safe and hidden, you blend in; you don’t put a giant target on you to let everyone know where your hideout is. It’s the natural art of survival here in Underground. This place is a gang hideout after all, probably going to be dirty in there too; filled with weapons and stashes of drugs galore. Typical gang stuff you assume, things you’ve read about in the local newspaper reports. Great. You can tell by the smell, the sounds, and the lights; you are deeper into the heart of Underground City, deeper into monster territory. It makes you a bit nervous, on edge even, but a scent catches you off guard. It’s refreshing, yet sharp, like that of the spearmint herb. Where was that coming from?

The crunching of snow grabs your attention and you are quick to follow after River. In their shadow you take to the small stairs, carefully walking due to the ice. River seems to have no trouble navigating over the icy patches, practically gliding over them. With a simple flick of the hand, you spy a wave of gray magic spill onto the door. A tiny image; a rune perhaps, glows in response. The door opens with just the touch of a gloved finger; no handle to be twisted or tugged. A magic seal? It’s bright as you walk in, you shield your eyes with your hand to allow some time for them to adjust. Could they have any brighter… bright...er… lights? This. place! IS! GORGEOUS! “I-Is this…? Woah! Look! And there! It’s so pretty! This is the Headquarters?!” You gawk, stepping past River into the grand foyer. Your boots click against the ground, is that granite?

You squat downwards; beyond your reflection it looks like a galaxy; flecks of beautiful colors within the darkness. You feel rude just allowing your dirty boots to make contact with the flooring. You spin about as you rise, your pupils dilated with wonder as you try to take in the sights. River seems to be amused by your antics as they wait patiently. You hear something, but you're too distracted with your own little adventure within the welcoming hall to truly notice. The entryway furniture is pristine; black leather and stained oak. Would it be impolite to sit down, just to feel the rich texture? The blinding lights when you came inside was brought on by the multiple hanging crystal chandeliers nestled on the ceiling above you. Their rays of light beam through the gems which dangle from them, splaying against the walls like tiny displays of multicolored sky art.

“You should eat a mushroom everyday.”

Your head whips over to the hooded figure, unmoving as they wait for you by the door. Did they just talk?! You tilt your head, confusion on your face; you remind River of the dog guard when they are asked if they want a walk. Questions race through your mind at incredible speeds. What did they say? Something about… mushrooms? Well, maybe an apple a day you could do. Mushrooms though? Maybe on a salad or pizza, they aren’t too bad but what does that have to- “Why you may ask?” They straighten up, stepping to continue down the entrance with your luggage. You curiously step after them, falling into pace beside them in a few strides. Of course you would ask why, it was a random fact to state out of the blue. Was it some sort of monster magical diet? Or did monster mushrooms give magical pow-“It’s so I know you’re listening.” …Eh? “Tra la la...” They skip forward with a giggle, so proud of themselves; your narrowed eyes and pursed lips only furthering their glee.

Well played, River, well played.

You attempt to keep your attention forward, but your eyes travel to the walls. Your pace can’t help but to be hindered as you admire the artwork. There’s a variety displayed throughout the hallway’s length; ranging from ornate landscapes to detailed Italian dishes, each with their own classy air to them. The two of you end up stepping into a rather large pleasant lounge, an open fireplace in the heart of the room purging away the winter chill. You want to smile and admire its beauty, but a frown creeps in on your face. It’s flames remind you of… Grillby. River places your bags down at your feet, holding up a hand up to tell you to stay. You hesitate, not wanting to be alone, but alas you agree to stay. They hum as they leave you, pulling a cord on the wall as they disperse. It echos a beautiful ring somewhere in the building, the cry fading as it returns to the lounge area. A creak of a door opening makes you jump, it's down the end of a side hallway, you think. “H-Hello?” You call out riddled with tension, only for a reply of footsteps in return.

“tibia honest,”

Oh no, not him. “...i was quite surprised when the boss agreed to have you live here.” Sans comes around the corner, flashing his grin at you. He looks... so tired? Poor thing. “H...Hiya Sans.” You wave and he steps forward, in an instant he’s standing before you. You flinch back involuntarily, the hairs on your arms standing on edge. Magic. His magic causing you to respond in such a way. “eh now, relax kid, i ain’t gonna bite… unless you want me too.” He growls the last part under his breath; a cyan tongue, one you are guiltily familiar with, swiping over his parted fanged teeth. Crimson kisses your cheeks as your sins return to claw at your spine. You bow your head; no, your whole upper body in an apologetic plea. “I AM SO SORRY ABOUT BEFORE I NEVER GOT TO APOLOGISE FOR WHAT I DID TO YOU WHEN I-mfrph!” A finger is quick to mute you and you look up at the amused skeleton. He slowly sits you up, guiding you up by a single bone finger under your chin.

He chuckles as he returns his hand to his pocket, shrugging his shoulders. “forgeddaboudit sweetheart, it was no skin off my bones after all.” You straighten your back, avoiding his white pinprick gaze. “S-Seriously though, I’m really sorry. I couldn’t help myself, and to be honest it’s all a bit fuzzy to recall but…” You trail off, your face turning a slight cherry color. You sure as hell remember how good it felt. “well, it’s not like grillbz and i even tried to stop you. you were in such state that we couldn't help but to throw you a bone .” He laughs you off, only to fall silent as he sees your despaired facade goes unchanged. He kinda feels bad. “‘ey now, come’on. show me them pearly whites, or you’ll force me to tickle those funny bones of yours.” You attempt a small smile, but there’s an obvious falsity to it. A hand comes forth to rest on your shoulder and you glance over to the bony fingers. “uh, let’s go, the boss is waitin’ for us. leave your bags behind, pretty sure the help is gonna be here to grab them soon.” You curiously eye him; momentarily forgetting you guilt, the help he says? What help?

He leads the way as you fiddle with the necktie, still around your neck. The satin choker distracts you as you shuffle behind him, attempting to somehow curb your anxiety. You nearly run into the back of the skeleton when he stops before a door halfway down the hallway. Sans knocks twice on a large wooden door and then waits patiently for a response. You shift behind him, fingers laced behind your back. You turn to scope the hallway and to your side you find an ornate mirror on the wall. Oh thank god; you quickly smooth down your sleep disturbed hair and do you best to groom yourself to a more suitable standard for meeting the monster kingpin. Looking better fills you with a bit more confidence, but a bass tone permeating from behind the oak barrier pulls you back to your current reality.

“Enter.”

Sans leads you inside a darkened room; an office you quickly learn, and before at his desk sits the boss himself. You stand quietly as Sans shifts to lean against the desk, his hip bone making a rather silly clunking noise when making contact. Should you speak? You should probably say something to them. Just as your mouth opens for you to talk, Gaster acknowledges you first. “Can’t seem to stay out of trouble, can you?” You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your head. “Well, you got me there. I just, ya know, couldn’t let those kids get hurt by those bastards.” You cross your arms; a scowl glaring at no one in particular, but the desk is taking the brunt of it. “They… Frisk, I think their name was, just looked so hurt, so... defeated. They were both cornered and I just kinda, well, went for it. Even the little monster kid had trouble walking; had to scoop them up when we bolted out of there, but not before I got to knock that guy square in the head!” You smile proudly at your achievement, pumping your fist in the air with passion burning eyes.

A smirk plays on Gaster’s thin smile as he stands, Sans becoming alert at the movement. You lower your triumphant pose, returning your arm to cross your chest, protectively? In just a few short strides he stands before, looming over you, he is the embodiment of intimidation. You have to tilt your head upwards to look him in the eye sockets. Upon closer examination you see he has white pupils, similar to Sans, but more faded, like an antique gray. “Originally...” He begins, his eyes travelling about your figure; mapping out every inch of you to memory. You feel so small before him. “...when Sans told me of your deeds, I was going to just send some gold, then have you on your way. Simple, nothing complicated. I never had the intention of being associated with any humans.” He speaks as he circles you, like a vulture drawn to a fresh carcass. You stand ridgid as his white digit trails down your shoulder, your sleeve, falling to your wrist. He repeats this process as he walks, each step forward starting a new path. “Human disgust me.” He states sharply, you can’t help but to flinch at the razor-edge words. “Yet,” You whine under your breath, his forefinger tracing the nape of your neck, teasing at the bowtie.

“...humans mystify me so.”

He’s in front of you again, an aura spilling from around his body. His magic, a color similar to the finest of sweet wines, hums around him. Fear, dread, a mix of the emotions fire off in the bit of your stomach. Your eyes dart over to Sans, but his gaze is not met in return. Gaster strides forward, his violaceous power sparking around him; a contrast to his ever pure achromatic suit. He’s closing in on you. You find yourself feeling weak, prey once more cornered by the knowledge starved predator. You step back by the nature of common instinct; mankind's fear of magic. Two steps forward. Three steps back. Four steps forward. Wall. You find yourself pinned, cornered, the door just inches away. Run away? You can’t, he won’t let you.“G-Get back!” You cry out, eyes leering up at the mob king, your body is shaking. He chuckles as his fingers meet you chin, similar to Sans just minutes ago. He holds it tight as you attempt to pull free. “My dear, you already made your choice.” You watch in horror as his hand slips into his front lapel pocket, pulling out a scarlet sweet you know too well. He holds it before your face, watching your pupils jump between his eyes and the pill.

“You sealed your fate the moment you ate one of my creations.Your greed and curiosity; a deadly co*cktail to consume, has forced your hand. You unknowingly signed a contract... with two possible outcomes.” He jerks your head upwards, your mouth parting slightly due to the incline. “You either risk your life in Northside, the Crown Five hot on your tail....” His thumb of the hand on your chin rubs over your lips; tracing them, understanding this new fleshy texture, a foreign idealism to a skeleton. “...or…” The hand holding the pill nears your mouth, you can feel the hard shell click against your teeth. “...you do as you’re told, be the first human experiment of the determination pill.” You snap your jaw shut, rejecting the treat. His smile widens with a hint of manic behind it. A sudden jerking motion has both your wrist at your side becoming bound to the wall. The phantasmic hands have returned, this time, not to your aide. “Interesting, very... very interesting. I love a subject with a fighting spirit...” he leans forward, a warm heat caressing your ear, “...they last the longest.”

“gaster.”

All movement ceases at the strident call of his name. Gaster co*cks his head back as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His eye sockets narrow towards his subordinate, but his hands remain, the crimson tablet threatening to penetrate your lips. “be gentle boss, can’t have her break. the kiddo would never forgive us.” You’re able to tilt your head slightly, nearly gasping at the sight. Sans is standing ferociously with magic crackling at the air around him. His right socket is a dark abyss; his left eye flaring wildly, painting him in a cerulean and gold emanation that clashes against his suit. His eye sockets have glared in return to his boss, but Gaster does not fall bemused. On the contrary. Gaster’s attention turns back onto you, his once roaring power ebbing to a soft amaranthine glow. It’s almost… calming, dare you think, tranquil? His hand leaves your chin and your jaw relaxes. You attempt to thank Sans for intervening, your mouth moving a fraction to speak, but Gaster has another plan. “Fine…” He cuts you off and his fist returns with force, slamming into the wall beside your head. You yelp in surprise; a moment of weakness Gaster takes full advantage of. “AHK-mph!” Aided by Gasters fingers, the determination pill slips into your mouth with ease. Down your throat it descends, before dissipating into nothingness as your body absorbs it once more.

“...let the experiment, begin.”

Chapter 10: Strict & Serious Scientific Research, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Son of a-!

Eyes widen and your jaw falls slack as fingers remove themselves from betwixt your lips. There's a rush, your body going rigid and tense. The heat sprouts its roots within your belly, expanding its way to your limbs once more. “NO! STOP IT!” You cry as your body jolts in response, nearly colliding your head into the wall itself. Everything is happening too fast for you to comprehend, the world beginning to spin on its own accord. You close your eyes as your vision tunnels; ignoring the two skeleton monsters before you, removing yourself from here. You feel yourself fall, knees giving out with no strength to resist. The heat has returned. It’s tumbling through each of your nerves, flame to gasoline once more. You groan and struggle to fight back, but this is a fight you can not stop. Can not win. A glossy sheen of sweat, like a soft blanket, develops on your skin. Hot. Someone please snuff this blaze!

“damnit gaster!” Sans snaps at his boss, dashing forward as he watches you give in. He feels terrible, having made a promise to protect you as per the kiddo’s wishes. This is why he hates making promises, their too hard to keep; too much effort. Just as he steps forward, just a meer yard from your withering form, his bones lock in place. Magic, purple magic, binds him in place. He can not move. He can not help you. “Ah, ah, ah, Sans,” Gaster chides the young skeleton, waving a bone digit at him in a taunting manner. “I will be having none of that.” Sans struggles against the magic, however to no avail is he able to break the magical bindings. Gaster’s magic is just too powerful. “Stay there and watch with me, my little assistant. You interfering may throw an additional variable into my hypothesis, and I can’t have that. Not just yet.” Gaster turns his attention back to you and your forlorn facade. You’re struggling to keep a hold of yourself, fighting the faux determination streaming through your soul. This does not please him.

“My dear, do not fight it.” Your focus returns to the here and now, you can’t block out that voice. His voice. A spasm runs down your spine, pooling once more near your lower secret. Why? Why do you want him to speak more? There are steps, the light clicking of expensive shoes nearing your body. Why isn’t Sans helping you?! “B-Back off!” You bark as your wrists strain against the bindings, attempting to swipe at the kingpins nearing frame. Hot. You want, no, need to cool down. Why did you wear so much clothing? “My my, what an unruly subject you are.” Gaster’s sings above you, your eyes weakly fall open to peak out at him. Curiosity and the craving for knowledge fills his sharp gaze, his cracked smile turning a slight smirk. “Hm, I require more data about you and your inner workings. How about we take a look at the real you.”

His hand hovers before him, a dark pulsation of magic ebbs around his fingers. He bends at the knees, the pristine suit groaning against the bone. “Hold still and you’ll have nothing to worry about.” Why should you listen to him? You kick your legs out before you, heels grinding into the wooden floor as your attempt to scoot back, to make any space between the two of you. The wall holds your trembling body firm, there’s nowhere for you to go. Nowhere to hide. The predator chuckles under his breath as he watches you, he knows there is nothing you can do. Accept it? You can’t. You won’t, not without a fight. Is this the determination speaking, or you? He draws closer until he is a kiss away from touching you, yet not close enough to make contact. “gaster! be careful!” Sans cries, bones rattling as he is filled with dread in his nonexistent stomach. He’s seen what Gaster does when he’s in his scientific moods, it's never anything good.

“NGAAAH!”

Your eyes nearly roll back as you feel your soul be snatched roughly out from within your internal protection. The viridescent soul lurches from you, following Gaster’s hand like a loyal mutt. “P-Put it back!” You whimper, begging him, tears welling in the corner of your eyes. You feel so raw, empty, entirely sick to your stomach; clashing with the determination as it courses through you, it’s dizzying. You need him to push it back in, make you whole again! ...You didn’t really expect him to listen, did you? “What a precious little thing, so pure…” He twirls it about in his palm, all eyes on him as he toys with your soul. Any moment, he could crush it and kill you. “...LOVE nor EXP taints its existence. Absolutely lovely.” A spasm forces a quiet moan to escape you, why were his words forcing such feelings in you? Your soul gives you away, mimicking your shudder at his… compliments? Is that what you can consider them? Gaster brings the hovering presence to his face while it floats between two bone palms. A wild happiness flutters forth on his skull as his gray pupils dart about, mapping your soul to memory. Maybe he should grab his glasses? Bah, no time to run to the downstairs lab. Despite his partial lack of clear vision, he can see it. The determination is forming in your soul, like that of the year’s first rose in an barren spring garden. “Magnificent.”

Frustration.

Sans huffs quietly behind Gaster, watching as the scene unfolds. Your soul; still as green as before, is suspended in his boss’s hold. Sans wants to take it from his hold, slide in comfortably back within you. Your face is twisted in displeasure and confusion, trying to adjust to a mix of emotions he has no doubt your are feeling. He knew he should have waited to bring you to Gaster, at least wait until Papyrus and the kiddo were here. Gaster is more composed when they are around, more of an observer than a participant in any event. Now though; boss is the event coordinator, he the observer, you… the unwilling participant. “Pl...please...put it back.” Your moaning catches Sans off guard, magic awakening as he watches you struggle against the bindings. Gaster is not phased, never is. “kiddo, try to relax. just like before, i promise i’ll help ya.” He begs quietly, Gaster perks up at his words… not a good sign.

“Yes! Before! Sans, compare notes with me.” He steps away from you, leaving you a shaking mess against the wall. You whimper and reach out towards your soul, a failing attempt to draw it back. Sans eyes his boss for a moment, watching the giddy scientist step before him, blocking his sight from you. “Which batch did she ingest?” With a wave he creates more phantasmic hands to start writing. “uh, she ate one from batch c.12.20.p20.” He recalls from memory: batch style of group C, date of production: December twentieth, percentage of determination, twenty. Gaster nods, the hands scribbling loudly as they take notes. “Ah, and the batch I used today was c.12.19.p10, the basic pill we have in production. Today will be our controlled case-” His breath hitches as he’s caught off guard. Sans can smell it too, it's a delicious fragrance… heavy and rich… like the purest of nectars. Gaster staggers in shock, not prepared for what hits his senses. Sans recognizes the scent instantly, he’s whites jerking in your direction, as if he could stare through Gaster. He feels his magic hum within his bones and beads of sweat start to trail down his brow.

It’s you.

Gaster sidesteps to be beside his younger companion, holding your soul close to his chest. “Please… It hurts…” Your face is flush, sweat streaming down your face, eyes unfocused as you stare down at your feet. It’s. so. f*cking. hot. “Oh? A side effect?” Gaster speaks softly, glancing down into his palms. In the center of the soul, the determination has grown. The red clashing with green, perfect opposites fighting for dominance. Gaster eagerly walks forward, hovering over you as your eyes meet his. “M-Mister… Mister Gaster, please…” He visibly trembles, a darker tint appearing on his cheekbones. This… is a side effect he was not prepared for. He places a palm to your forehead, his bone a pleasant cooling against your sensitive skin. You list into the feeling, a groan expelling itself, but this relief is not enough. “T-Temp,” Gaster clears his throat, somehow, to remain focused. “Temperature has increased, approximately by five point four-six degrees. Steadily inclining, a decimal per every other second. Fascinating.” He retracts his hand and you thrust forward in an attempt to follow it. “I hypothesize that the determination interacts with what humans body’s produce called Epinephrine.” Sans acknowledges the older skeleton, but his eyes remain on you. “yeah, most people know it as adrenaline or something like that?” He should really touch up on his human studies, regretting falling behind on his reading.

“Yes, yes. You see, Sans, Epinephrine is normally produced by the human adrenal glands or specific neurons within the body, if not both. It seems that the pill has forced the glands to produce a supply, with no way to use said supply....” He looks over to a floating clipboard, as if to check his facts. He’s correct, as always. “boss-” “Anyway, more commonly, it plays an important role in one’s fight-or-flight response. It increases blood flow to muscles, output of the heart’s pumping mechanic, pupil dilation...” He continues to rant, despite the lack of a listening audience. He continues pacing about, getting lost within his own thoughts, not that he minds. “...so on and so forth. Common side effects of increased epinephrine levels include shakiness, anxiety, sweating-oh.” He looks at his palm in disgust, then quickly takes a swab to wipe off the dampness, saving it for examination later. “There are of course adverse side effects of the hormone, however we will have to note-”

“boss!”

Gaster sharpley glances over at Sans, hating that his train of thought came to a sudden halt. Sans does not meet his gaze in return. His stare is low with widened sockets, usual smile twitching downwards. There’s a faint aquamarine glow on his cheekbones, clashing against the pale bone structure. Following his assistance gaze; he turns on his heels, stopping short once his eye sockets fall to you. You're visibly trembling and panting, thighs grinding together as you seek any relief. An obvious discoloration between your pants legs gives away what’s happening to you, the determination has finally started to reach its peak. Glancing at your soul in hand, he confirms his suspicion; within your jade heart a large shade of garnet has blossomed forth. It’s pulsating, attempting to intermix with your soul, yet does not contain the strength to grow stronger. Perhaps it's due to the lower dosage of determination? This is something he will have to consider for the future.

“Well then, it seems it is time to move on to phase two of my research.” Gaster moves with haste behind his desk, pulling out a… container of some sort? An instinctual fear falls over you and a scream rips through you, “NO! STOP! PLEASE!” Not again! …what? Gaster waves his other hand at you, not even bothered by your outburst in the slightest. “I will return your soul momentarily my dear subject, for its safety now, it shall stay here on my desk.” He acts before you have a chance to react; your soul hovers within the glass protection. He smiles down at your soul, patting the jar lid lightly with his hand. “Now then, let’s continue. Sans,” With a snap of his digits, Sans regains movement, the magical restraints disappearing within a fraction of a second. “You described to me what relieved the determination from her body before, and you are to do so again, whilst I record and analyze the results.”

Sans loosens his vest, trying to calm his nervous rattling. Bluntly, Gaster wants him to f*ck you while he watches. Great. No problem. Bastard. He walks quickly over to your side, shaking his head as he nears you. Your smell is purely intoxicating this close up. “h-hey pal, i’m just here to help.” He reaches down towards you, but a growl forces his hand back. Your eyes don’t rise to meet him, instead they are staring down his approaching hand. sh*t, he doesn’t blame you; lack of soul and all. You must feel so exposed and fearful. It wasn’t like he helped you so far, guess you have the right to be pissed. “come’on, you need to get out of your clothing or you’re gonna burn out.” His hand reaches down to help you with your shirt-

CLICK

“f*ck!” He reels back, barely missing your teeth clamping down on his hand. Your growling returns, this time your eyes match up with him. “the hell?!” He springs back, his bones singing out. This time they rattle not out of nervousness, but fear. Horror. Even his grin, once thought to be a permanent fixture, drops. Red. His magic sparks and cracks the air around him, his eye burning with a passion he has never felt... before? There’s a red shadow to your eyes, tinting its usual charming coloring. Why? Why does he want… want to do something he would regret? Though… for some reason…

He doesn’t feel like he would.

“Outstanding!” Gaster claps his hands behind him, oblivious to all but his analysis. Sans turns to face his boss; making sure he is out of your reach, his thoughts disappearing into the fog of his mind. The boss had brought forth his chair from around his desk, sitting cross legged, a notebook resting against a raised thigh. “boss, she nearly bit me, don’t see what’s so outstanding about that.” Sans huffs, crossing his arms, his mood returning to normal. “No, no, no! The determination! Despite it being imbedded in her soul, she still shares a residual amount within her body. As you can see, it reflects in her eyes!” Gaster begins to scribble down notes with much haste, fearing he may forget any information he gathers. “heh, ya, no kiddin’.” Sans looks back down at you; your face has fallen, he rubs the back of his head. He pities you, and this whole damn situation. You don’t deserve this. You’ve been nothing but kind and helpful. He regrets telling Gaster about you taking the pill in the first place.

Your gasp calls his attention back to you, leaving his thoughts deep within his skull. Gaster’s magic has you floating in the air, your arms and legs bound lightly as your struggle. “See you bite these.” The scientist taunts behind him and summons forth mauve, translucent aides. “A-Ah…” You moan as they tug away your clothing without care and little force, dropping articles unceremoniously onto the floor. Leaving you in just your dark raven undergarments and that silk bowtie, you should feel awkward. Or in the very least embarrassed, but in all honesty… you feel absolute. Unadulterated. Relief. Despite feeling eyes examining every part of your naked skin, recording you, you can’t help for a pleased smile to reveal itself on your features. “...thank-k...y-you…” You softly pant out, the lovely chill of the room’s air calming not only your body, but your mind. You are able to regain a bit more control as you look down over to Sans, feeling a bit of guilt bite in your stomach. You can see it in his face now, he’s not in this as willingly as you first originally thought. “S-Sorry Sa-ngh!” Your apology becomes muffled as the feeling the magic wraps around your head, weaving through your hair, and in turn mumming you. Like a bridle on a horse, a thick bone has appeared between your maw as some sort of silencing device.

“Perfect, nice and muzzled up.” Gaster chips in, lowering his hand back to his lap. “See Sans, no more biting. Nothing to worry about.” Gaster speaks up with a soft chuckle to himself, but it quickly falls back to a serious tone. “Get to it then, we are just wasting time.” He instructs as your body is willed through magic and you’re lowered to the ground. On your hands and knees, you face Gaster’s sitting position. You bite against the bone, drips of saliva slipping down your chin. You feel your legs splay out wider, raising your bottom higher into the air. You don’t feel Gaster’s apparitions on your thighs, are you doing this out of impulse? “Mnnmmn…” You moan into the bone as you feel wetness descend down your inner thighs. The heats churning in your lower region, the spice of your own arousal stirring a deep desire within you. Desperation. Craving. Your entrance is throbbing.

Sans and Gaster can sense it too, their magic humming in response. Gaster takes a deep breath, his ribs expanding underneath his suit. The aroma, your aroma, is hard to describe; making it a struggle to get down into paper. It’s akin to the most lavish of essences, indescribable unless experienced first hand.“Well, Sans? Don’t leave us waiting.” Sans nods slowly, blinking out of existence before you. Your head whips around to look for him, unable to move about with your wrist and ankles magically cuffed to the floor. You swear under your breath. Damn it, if he left you alone-! “Nghh! Shnnss!” You whine into the gag, arching your back in response. Your eyes squeeze close as the observer's gray orbs spectate before you. He’s pleased with your reaction, they both are. That sneaky, impatient skeleton had teleported behind you, specter tongue welcoming itself to your warmth. To your chagrin, the black barrier still protects the sensitive flesh… not that Sans is going to let that stop him.

God, he regrets not having savored you sooner. Even with your panities blocking his full entry, he can’t help but to lap along the outer cloth as he kneels comfortably behind you. “f*ck, your...y-your taste is amazing…” He mumbles between licks, pulling back to further inhale your scent. Your moist sweetness he nearly salivates for, the texture of the dark textile tickles his tongue with each stroke. You writhe as you feel his supernatural muscle swirl and thrust, lowering itself towards your convulsing bud. “Nn! Hnnn!” You cry into the bony restraint, eyes locked shut in a perpetual state of bliss. “Nn…! Mm...gh...hm…Mm?!” You groan as you lean back against him as best you can, whining quietly as he removes himself. Sans! For the love of all, don’t stop!

You audibly sob as you claw at the ground, nails scratching against wood. You wish you were free to alleviate the blazing ache within you. “so, buddy,” Sans breathlessly speaks up as he licks his teeth, taking a moment’s break. He can’t get winded too early. “...so eager to jump my bones, ‘eh?” Puns. Here. Now? Ugh... starting to see a trend here. You growl lightly, be it a bit playfully, the only way you can show your disdain towards the shorter monster. You bite down hard in an attempt to release yourself from your muzzle. Could you snap it if you bit hard enough? Probably not, it's magical after all. You feel him press his teeth into your thighs with tiny pinches in their wake, leaving behind soft skeleton kisses to mar your skin. Bone fingers rest at your hips and you feel the cotton fabric of your intimates slide down to your knees. “...damn… such a beautiful view.” You hear Sans speak quietly behind you and as a result, butterflies jostle around within you.

“Oh?”

Your eyes snap open to the temporarily silent watcher, but he is no longer watching you. His eyes are instead towards the desk, studying your soul. Is it… shimmering? “My, my, how intriguing.” Sans doesn’t resume; instead listens in, his panting breaths teasing against your weeping passage. Gaster scoots forward, his chair rolling across the wooden floor. You flinch away as his hand nears you head, did you do something wrong? You feel Sans’s grip tighten against your thighs, it's a nice pressure you hate to admit. “Mrm?” To your surprise, you feel a hand rest on your head. A thumb pushes back your bangs as you look up at the mafia boss.You whimper quietly, his tender stroking an odd clashing rhythm with your current mood. “Such lovely eyes...” His whisper is soft with an odd gentleness to it. His words create a spark within you, and it travels all the way to your core, furthering fueling your internal fire. Gaster grins widely, eyes filled with his raging magic, yet he controls himself.

As he continues to stroke your hair, he can’t help to admit to himself how nice it feels in between his fingers. Your locks reminds him of silk; rich, soft, lush. Your eyes close slowly and he can see a shiver travel throughout your spine. He signals for Sans to watch, who looks back towards him with an arched brow. Gaster leans forward and uses your hair as leverage to lift you close, his mouth nearing your ear. The warmth is pleasant and it caresses your sensitive nape, a lovely tingling sensation shivers through you. Sans watches in confusion. Just what exactly is he doing? This is out of character for him- Sans watches in surprise as Gaster speaks an airy whisper into your ear, the deep rumble thrumming forth from the mafia leader’s chest.

“...Good girl.”

“shi-!” Sans eyes shy away quickly, bone narrowing to shield his vision. Your soul is a beacon within the dark office, illuminating the room in a haunting, yet beautiful emerald shine. Is this from... from the praise? The crimson determination pulsates along with your glistening verdant essence, even the glass cage it resides in has started to vibrate. Moments later though, its radiating dies down as it resumes its steady levitation with the case. Human souls are getting more and more interesting by the minute. His pinpricks shift over to Gaster, who is still petting you. At a glance one could assume that you have fallen under a hypnosis, slowly swaying about to and fro with each stroke. If he listened in closer, he could hear your soft cooing rasping out against the bone. “Sans.” Gaster’s features revert once more to its former stoic calmness. Sans watches as the grasp on your hair tightens, weaving through Gaster’s bone phalanges.

“Phase three.”

Huh...phase...three? You force you mind to regain a consistent consciousness, ignoring the calm tempo of the circulating digit against your forehead. Wincing, you find you can no longer move your head, trapped in the grasp of the kingpin. On your hips you feel a tense grasp, a static presence prodding at your folds. “Do try to last, will you?” You peer up to Gaster, only your eyes able to move about under his submission. He’s not looking at you. “i’ll, uh, do my nn... best.” Sans murmurs behind you, he already sounds short-winded. You brace yourself as pressure increases on your lower back. “don’t worry sweetheart, i’ll take good care of ya.” Sans whispers in your ear, leaving behind a soft skeleton kiss on your neck. You swoon underneath him, your neck a weak point to his touch. You feel him chuckle against you, his clothed ribcage shuddering against your back.

“like that, hm?” Sans rolls his hips, the tip of him threatening to enter. Your body gives you away as you raise your ass into him, he grits his teeth. Not just yet, he wants to make sure you are willing. “how about…” He rests his head near your shoulder, you can feel the side of his skull brush against your cheek. “this?” He bites, hard, into your flesh with his fangs. “Nrgph!” You moan into the bone, your own teeth biting down to keep you from breaking into hysterics. The pain sprouting from your shoulder is bearable, a pleasant throb similar to your sheathed pearl above your cavern. As if he can see into your mind, a quake rips through you as blue magic welcomes itself to your pink nub.

The shudder is intense, your mane tugs and attempts to pull free from your unwilling entrapment. Saliva trickles down your chin, eyes hazed over in bliss. The fire is building at a rapid pace, your heart thumping widely in your chest. Your elbows shake, dangerously close to caving in. You press into the hand which holds your hair up, a way to steady yourself. Your hips gyrate and thrust against the magic’s suckling power. God, you’re so close, nearing your peak. The teeth retract from your skin, only to be replaced by the soothing swipes of his tongue. Sans seems more than pleased with your reactions. The cobalt muscle runs over your shoulder, across your nape. It’s slick and warm despite being partially transparent, its travels leaving a faint wet glow in its path. He shifts his head forward, chin pressing into your shoulder as he does. Your eyes fall shut as you offer your neck to him. Even behind the mask of your eyelids, you can see the magic of Sans eye burn greater. “heh, don’t mind if i do.” He purrs as he closes in, bearing his fangs as he draws closer, a hiss seeping out his throat as it slides between the pointed incisors.

The fervent contact has you bellow out a muffled cry as he scratches his teeth against your flesh. The teeth are sharp yet rugged, pricking at your skin like his kisses. “like that, don’tcha?” You feel his grin press into your skin and a dusting of red flashes across your face. No one has ever gotten this close to you before and has ever made you feel so on edge. Your head is spinning, dizzied by all of the attention. The grip on your hair tightens and you whimper, the sting spiking your concentration. A perfect moment of distraction Sans takes advantage of; with a growl rustling through his vertebrae, he bites, striking you down to the core.

This breaks you.

“Mn...hhhh…Ah….NGH!” You huff hard against the bone, arching your back as you feel the pleasure barrel down you. “NYH! NN....RRM!” Tears threaten to spill out as you lose control, but your eyes are squeezed too tight to let any escape. You’re senses dull to the world around you; muffing your hearing to your sight, only drowning in the rewarding heat. It’s too fast to enjoy to its fullest, your org*sm sweeping over you like a crashing wave. It burns, it hurts, but dear god did you need this. A burning fullness fills you and your mind relaxes with a bit of ease. Your muscles weep for support, to give yourself a break.

Yet the passion and fire still burns deep within you, why couldn’t this be enough? Why didn’t this use up the supply of determination that still dances through you? Sans’s groan awakens you from you after glow, pulling your mind to the present. He has removed himself from your neck, tucking his chin to rest his forehead on your shoulder. His magic on your lower crease has dissipated as he catches his breath. His use of magic must exhaust him rather fast, you kind of understand what Gaster meant from earlier. Your unfocused eyes flutter open and for a moment you seem confused, wasn’t the room brighter a moment ago? Or was it just the sparks from your peak throwing off your vis-

Oh sh*t!

Your sudden freedom catches you off guard, your arms giving out as you fall face first onto the ground. Owww. Sans must have been a bit more prepared; for as he fell forward he caught himself, his arms splayed by instinct around yours with a hard click of bone palms against the floor. Your surprised face churns as Gaster’s chuckle forces a frown to furrow your features. His hand, the one moments ago you were using as support, now rest on his lap. “Now Sans, I believe I have taken enough notes about phase three, I found my currently constructed hypothesis to be... wrong! Isn’t that exciting?” You leer up at the boss, his gray orbs dancing about the mixing bones and flesh before him. “This is perfect! Which means we can move along and test my newly developed hypothesis...” The scientist trails off, his child-like giddiness forcing itself back into a serious mood. His legs shift to a more comfortable position as he sits up higher, pulling his clipboard down lower to cover his lap. Science is not for play after all, its strict research and analysis. In no way... should he be enjoying this as much as he is.

A growl escapes you as you shift to sit up on all fours, your muscles regaining some of their lost strength. Your eyes shut as you focus, your muscles tensing as you press yourself up. You still feel weak, but not as weak as before. The sound of wheels grinding and the light crackling of glass shards doesn’t halt your attempt to sit up. “w-wait, i wouldn’t-” Sans is cut off as your mumed yelp echos in the room. A harsh heel digs into your spine, pressing you back down into your subjugated position. Your bottom remains in the air, Sans lower pelvis grinding against it by accident. He shivers and holds onto your hips as he feels you struggle, you soft flesh rubbing up against him. He’s not on your mind at the moment. No matter how much fight you well up to counter back, the downward force is greater. “My dear, we are not done yet.” His shoe remains in place with concrete stability; nestled between your shoulder blades. “There is still much research to be had.” Asshole! Jerk! “Phase,” Bastard! “four.” At his feet…

you are right where he wants you.

Chapter 11: With Answers Comes More Questions, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Souls are quite peculiar concepts.

Souls come in all matters of colors, strengths, weaknesses, and sorts of minor statistical information. The soul at times can change, shift colors as the host changes environments and experiences different life events. Some are strong willed; radiating a proud glow of their most dominant of traits. Very few can be clouded over; a shade dimmer than their once royal aura; typical signs of age or more commonly, depression. No matter the soul; healthy or ill, they always remain true to their ruling attributes. It’s often believed that the human souls are all born a naked white, and often the color is established during their early youth. The colors of the soul blossoms forth through the core as they begin to discover themselves and their different personality traits. As an adult the colors are alike to a shifting rainbow, with one or two personality colors radiating the boldest for all monsters to sense. It’s a keen sense monsters have developed to better judge mankind’s motives and be wary of their possible actions against them. This is not a concept taught in school, but rather an innate idealism all monsters are born with. This instinct, Gaster has no doubt, is what kept him alive back then.

Glancing over to the shattered glass canister, Gaster can’t help to wonder to himself the strength of your soul. Never in all of his years of research has he ever witnessed a soul escape the confines and return to its owner. Had you even noticed? Perhaps not consciously, but your actions have proved other wise. It’s nice to see you with your fighting spirit once again, a rare trait for those with a green soul, a consistent green soul at that. It escapes him at the moment; the study of human souls is Sans’s field of interest, rather than his own, but he can’t help to think that this clashes with your own instinctive will. Funny, your nature prefers that of the peaceful route, yet you fight back; challenging your predicament. How odd… how... exciting! He would have to go over this with Sans; perhaps over breakfast in a few hours, the differences and possible variables between each human souls. How amusing; a sly grin appears on the cracked skull, never before had he had such an interest in humans...

Not before meeting you.

Speaking of which, his gray orbs shift back down to you, watching as you squirm beneath his weight. He watches as you gnaw at the gag, your canines attempting to pierce and snap the piece. Freedom you seek, but no matter the effort you exert to snap it; he does not worry, a human’s jaw power PSI is no match against the marrow. Besides, it’s magic after all, as a human you have not developed a method a defense during your primal evolution. Which makes him question once more, what was it that allowed your soul to flee the containment it had previously inhabited? Was it the determination which allowed its escape? Without said determination, could it reach its independence once more? Some day soon he would have to run a few trails; a soul with and without determination, a controlled case and multiple experimental runs. Oh dear, you’re unfortunate mishap has become his greatest muse.

“h-hey, boss?”

Sans’s cuts off his thoughts, drawing attention once more to the current agenda. Ah yes, phase four. He lifts his foot off your back and your eyes glare up at his retreating form. Rolling back on the chair, he gives you two some space to continue. His raised hand summons back the phantasmic assistance to grab the stray shards, he doesn’t want you injured on his account. Not just yet, at least. You do not rise from your position, the expression of exhaustion starting to dust your features. Instead you rest your head between your crossed arms, pressing your forehead into the floor. If not for the determination still running through your veins, you would find this to be very awkward; ass up in the air, threatening to grind against the fairly new acquaintance. A whimper slips past your lips as your nethers tremble, why were you not satisfied yet? There are still wavering pulsations bursting through you; bits and pieces of the pleasure you experienced just a bit ago, but you still need more.

You need a distraction, maybe that can help you calm down.

Well, the wooden flooring feels amazing. It’s nice and chilled beneath your heated body; although, it is uncomfortable for your knees. However, nothing beats the feeling still welling up within your center, a blaze continually burning with no end in sight. It’s futile, your scent and sounds alone further beckoning the skeleton on. You feel him throb as he presses against your flesh as the blue magic reappears. It begs for contact, your contact, but alas he has not been given the word to start the process. Sans groans between his teeth as you entice him on, your wet folds a thrust away from engulfing him once more. His power hums as he feels you against his pelvis, the sensation driving him closer to the edge. He has no idea how; maybe some weird monster form of determination, but he was able to keep from exploding within you... emptying into you his essence until it filled you to the brim, damn near close to bursting out. The thoughts of him slicking against your folds sends shivers down his spine, rubbing up against the back of your thighs. Along your sensitive skin it feels like static, numbing yet an inviting contact. Such betrayal by your own body, but a little bit of you; just a tiny bit, wants to continue. Must you drink that co*cktail of curiosity, yet again? Is it too tempting not to indulge yourself?

You can feel him behind you shifting about, his bones creaking as he does so. Thankfully he is fully clothed; minus his vest and disheveled pants, or else he would be digging his bones into you… or melt into a puddle at his own feet. Seriously. Can skeleton monsters even feel hot temperatures, lack of skin and all? How is he sweating? Questions for later. Focus on the now. As your eyes dart over your shoulder, you can see that his navy dress shirt has fallen unbuttoned, his ribs shaking about with nervous breaths. His eye is slightly focused on you, wisps of blue and gold swirling within the darkness of his eye socket; like mixing cream into coffee. A glimmer within you feels terrified, yet guilty excited, over looking into the eye. His hypnotic facade is only exemplified by his fingers softly stroking at your hips in a comforting manner, it's surprisingly… nice.

“Sans, do begin.”

Gaster’s words awaken you from you daze, pulling your attention back to the spectator. You weren’t just… admiring the short skeleton, were you? Sans halts his soft caressing and in turn grips onto your hips. Your flesh is so supple along his hard bony phalanges, like a moldable putty he could distract himself with for hours. In the curve of your hips the skin is taut, following your muscles in the bent shape. It’s not something he ever imagined himself being allured to; humans always caused a nervous tick within his non-existent gut. Yet... you seemed so different, yet familiar, a pleasant combination of mystery and fascination. Maybe he takes after Gaster a bit too much. “‘ey, kiddo, um... brace yourself. i’ll, uh, be gentle.” God, he needs to be inside you, to fill you with his length. Every moment more outside of you just ignites his magic, nearly breaking him to instable levels. Between your scent, your oh so delicious scent, and your position before him, he feels the desire to take you gaining control over his mind. He wants, no, needs you. Hard. However, a gentle-monster he is, and would only do so if he had your word, that you are willing to participate.

Gaster be damned at this point.

You look back at the shivering statue of bone, his facial expression calm with a tint of worry to it. His vision is jumping between you and the impatient boss, whose foot has begun to tap just a yard away. You huff out air, jaw falling slack, tired from its escape attempts. You give a sharp nod, turning to stare at the ground before you, refusing to meet their eyes. You, you were not going to show them how much you wanted this. You wouldn’t give in that easily. Sans closes his eye sockets as he leans forward, doing his best to ease into you. A guttural moan echoes throughout you, the head sliding with no qualms into your more-than-welcoming slick embrace. “nn...g-ghh...f-f*ck...it’s… it’s so f*cking tight!” Sans hisses out between his teeth as his arms rattle with excitement, gripping onto your bottom as support. In all his life he never imagined being this intimate with a human, and in this circ*mstance no less. So full. You feel your internals swell around his pulsing member as to adjust to its girth once more. Were you always this tight? A little yes, a bit no. Having already came once, your internal muscles still have a flexing hold within you. He was also losing his control of his powers no doubt. He feels wider than you expected this time around, thankfully the length is still a comfortable amount to take in. The pressure of your walls widening to handle his thickness stirs something within you, causing you to quiver in his hold. If this was any other situation, you would gladly be enjoying yourself, but the joyful clap of the kingpin slightly startles you. “Perfect, perfect! Now Sans, as we discussed, you must remove yourself before you ejacul*te, elsewise you will interrupt the phase progression.”

Yeah, about that.

Easier. Said. Than. Done.

“ha...ha...ngh…!” Sans grunts under his breath as he feels the warmth emit from your passage, sending sparks throughout him again. It feels strong, one moment of broken concentration and he will accidentally let himself go all within you. He can feel you drawing him in, pulling him in deeper, despite your lack of movement below him. His jaw falls loose as his usual grin falters, his borderline fangs reemerging with his blissful expression. “g-great, so great…” His hips begin to gyrate at a shaky tantalizing pace, allowing you time to adjust. Your hips buck on their own to match his undulating thrusts. It feels… different; amazing no doubt, but definitely different. Perhaps it's the angle at which he’s pressing into you, but a different pressure is building compared to your previous experience. “Nggrr...mphh...eummm…” You mewl into the binding, eyes squeezed tight as you try to keep conscious; preventing yourself from going wild. You’re slipping though, one buck of the hips at the perfect angle has you drooling, the wetness slipping down your chin. “Nrg...sssnnnsss!” You unleash a muffled cry of his name, your back arching against his thrusts. “f-fua...mm...s-stay… stay right there ki’en!” He remarks above you, his voice falling husky as he shudders. “Nmmph!” Your eyes snap open, nails clawing at the ground as you scramble to remain steady. He had lurched forward, pushing until he’s fully hilted within you. f*ck, it’s breathtaking, nearly indescribable!

“Mmm… Magnificent.”

Gaster coos softly under his breath, watching as the smaller skeleton before him struggles to keep ahold of his wits. He can’t lie to himself; this is not only a test for the determination within his new human subject, but a trial to see just how well Sans can handle endurance. Sans as of late has been showing some weakness in that area, it is best to see just how much he has changed. “d-damn sweetheart, keep doin’ that and you’re gonna.. huff… drive me crazy.” His increases to a steady pattern and Gaster watches as your face contorts, fighting the instincts which clamor to control you. The scientist’s mouth threatens to smile, pleased to see you break before him. He can’t dispel the fact that he finds you amusing, dare he say… captivating? No, that is far too of an exaggeration, but definitely something about you has caused his own magic to quiver his soul.

His fingers twitch as he grips the clipboard, pressing it down on his lap. The way your body trembles with each thrust, the small muffled cries you release as Sans enters you again and again, each stirring something within Gaster that he had not expected. A craving one could say; a disgusting want for a human? He? The boss of the great monster mafia of Southside? Yearning for a human? It must be a side effect; yes, that must be it, for being within the proximity of you and your human soul. Grumbling under his breath, he tries to calm his powers and focus solely on the display before him. He had always held the highest of pride for his control of magic, Papyrus falling in his stead, but Sans always seemed to struggle; never a balance, always swaying to an extreme on either side. Now he could see Sans struggling to keep ahold of himself once more, the magic within the left eye socket sparking within timed increments.

“Ha...hah...mnph...nn…?”

To Gaster’s surprise, those sounds were not from the mess before him, but rather he himself. He can feel a throbbing within his lap as he presses down further with the clipboard, hiding his… shame. What would it be like, he wonders to himself, to be the one to enter you. To grab you by the hair, dominate you until you, have you begging within his grasp-STOP. His jaw clicks closed as he catches himself, his tongue nearly having lolled forth with his heated panting. A dark shade dusts his cheeks, mirroring the skeleton pleasing you currently. Perhaps to give him a break, he should step forth when it comes to phase five; it wouldn’t be too terrible of an idea to get some personal research in, now would it?

“Ngph!” You cry as you feel fingers claw at your hips, pulling you back harder into Sans’s pelvis. You are getting close, the coil within your abdomen winding tighter and tighter with each additional thrust. There’s fire in your arms and legs, your muscles burning from their overexertion. It’s thrilling, pushing yourself beyond your boundaries. Yet terrifying, you feel like sobbing until there is nothing left within you. “Nmph! Mrgghh!” More thrusts, passion, and mixed emotions mar your thoughts like a whirlpool dragging down ships. You can’t think, yet you think too much; aware and unaware all at once. The world is spinning, your body bouncing to and fro as your mind follows a different current. No more coherent thoughts. You’re breaking. You feel sick and you feel full, the overwhelming pressure building to the point of critical. It hurts! You gag into the mouth bind and teeth grinding into the bone. It’s too much!

“augh!”

The fire’s blaze courses through each of your limbs, your juices sputters out between your legs with Sans’s continuous drive. The coil has sprung. The pressure snaps through you, every muscle within you crying out as relief ebbs through you, sizzling out like water to a matchstick. “euag! f*ck!” Thrusts become erratic, words and sounds spilling out with no meaning. “fua-ngh! i’m-!” Sans shouts as your internal passage caves in around him, convulsing as if to drag him further within you. He has never experienced such a feeling, this being his first time with a human after all. He had not expected for your peak to be his downfall in a matter of seconds, seconds he thought he would have been ready for. Gaster had greatly underestimated the experience of a female reaching her climax. Sans wants to relive that experience over and over if he could-“Sans! No!” It’s too late, it’s too much for him. He cries out your name, fingers gripping your hips to the point of bruising. Your back arches as your vision wanes, the world tunneling into darkness. It’s all happening too fast. You hear nothing, the world has fallen silent. You can’t hear anything, the pleasure a blaze which riddles your body numb.

You collapse.

“Damnit, Sans!” Magical violaceous hands grip the skeleton and throw him back, causing him to fall back towards the wall, missing it by mere inches. Dazed into an odd stupor, he feels his cerulean magic dissipate from the lack of control. He feels drained, yet spry. Christ, he was not expecting that, even with all his research in the past. A shudder ruffles his shoulders as he pants with his azure tongue, reflecting upon the stunning experience just seconds ago. Humans are amazing creatures. His head slumps back against the wall, the minor support allowing him to focus his eyes before him. “oh, f*ck, hey are you-” His worry for you is cut off by Gaster standing before him, glaring down at his rattling form. Oh, right. “Sans, you ruined the research! That step was not until phase five!” Sans shakily stands up using the wall for support, listening to the scientist gripe. “Damnit it, now-!” Sans holds up his hand to silence the boss, at least for just a second, while he collects himself. How dare he! “Do not cut me off-!”

Sans blips from sight, appearing a split second later next to you. Falling to his knees; not that he had much strength to stand anyway, he pushes you onto your side. You body is flush with a dark shade, the joints which were in contact with the floor already shading to ugly bruises. Your lovely eyes shine no more with life, but rather are hazed over and half lidded, seconds away from slumber. Your breathing has fallen shallow, albeit a tad shaky. “Sans.” He can see the leather shoes standing on the other side of you, but he does not dare raise his skull to meet with the impending punishment for ruining the experiment. Never disrupt a scientist’s study, their passion for their work, the results can be… unpleasant. “Extract her soul, I must see the determination. We mustn't have her burn out, not yet.” The voice is unperturbed, steady with each syllable enunciated. You really are just a test subject to him, after all, huh? Bastard. With a wave of the standing skeleton’s wrist, both monsters are surprised to see your soul float out, you don’t even flinch in your exhausted state. It is its beautiful coloring once more.

No determination in sight.

Gaster stands in awe, eyeing your floating essence. Had the determination run out? Had your soul absorbed the determination? Was this all just timing? Perhaps with an increased body temperature the determination fades away? Or was it the lower determination percentage introduced to the body? Had you created some sort of an immunity to the determination? This was your second recorded time consuming a pill after all. f*ck! Too many goddamn variables! Gaster refocuses his thoughts back to you and uses his magic to return your soul to your chest, again your reaction is very subtle. “Ugh, no matter. Now we can-” Sans snaps his head upwards with eyes of hazy gray pinpricks, but his eye sockets narrow with rare vigor to them. “boss!” Gaster is cut off by the shouting, again with this disrespect! A deep midnight pulsation echos from his hand as he raises it, finger outstretched to reprimand the disobedient one. “Sans, what did I just-!” Sans clicks his teeth and Gaster narrows his sockets in return, but stays mute. The smaller assistant pulls you partially into his lap, allowing you to rest your head on his clothed femurs. You look a tad more comfortable, your breathing slowed to an even tempo. “she’s seriously only been here for like, an hour or so. give the kid a break, ‘kay? she been through a helluva lot the past day and you said it yourself, she’s gonna be here for a while. research can wait until she’s ready, in the very least.”

Gaster grumbles under his breath, finger curling back into his fist. “I-ah… yes, I do see your point.” His arms cross before his chest, turning his gaze away from the two of you. The clipboards float away from their positions in their air, spare hands resting the notes on his desk before disappearing. In his eyes, an aura glows as he commands your body to float into his arms. This suit was already dirtied, what harm is there to dirtying it more? To his surprise you are easy to handle in your sleep, your head resting snug against his ribs. Kind of reminds him of when- “gaster, where ya takin’ her?” Sans speaks up, still kneeling on the floor before him, unable to gather strength at the moment to stand. He shifts you in his arms until your head rests closer to his shoulder, much better. “I shall take her to... her room. We will speak again in the morning.” Darkness pools beneath the gang leader, bubbling and oozing despite not having a true form; the void. Seeping downwards, he cradles you closer as he closes his eyes, it’s always best not to look during travel.

“wait, boss, don’t take her to-!”

He is too late, you’re gone.

Chapter 12: Best to Run & Hide, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“Ah, here we are.”

The ground bubbles and drops away as the darkness seeps forth from which is known by some as the void. A white mound appears within the vacant dark, rising slowly from the depths. Gaster appears carrying your sleeping form within his hold, cradled close to his body. The cracks on his face shifts as he reopens his eyes, the empty shadow pool evaporating as he leaves its hold. His shoes click on the ground as he steps on the linoleum floors, echoing down the hallway as he walks. The lights above him hum quietly, dimmed during their nightly watch. As he walks, he listens; no one in the laboratory this late at night, all away to their homes to rest. He never noticed the cold barrenness of the lab, that is until he catches you shivering in his grasp.

In your sleep you shift about, nuzzling closer to your captor’s rib cage. In just your bra and Grillby’s necktie, your dampened skin does not take well to the cold. He grumbles under his breath as you move against him, catching himself from letting a yawn escape. It was getting pretty late by now, if he was to guess it was around two in the morning. Turning a corner, he pulls you closer, the whimpers and growls behind the door on his left slightly startling him in his tired state. “Hm, I wonder…” He glances down at your shivering form, just how would they react to your soul? A question to answer later, but for now he must get you to your room.

He enters your room a corridor later, a simple hospital room; no decor, just a bed with monitors awaiting use, and a neighboring bathroom attached. With a flare of his magic, a few sets of his helping hands appear around him to give him assistance. They move about quickly; turning down the bed, prepping each monitor to fit your calibrations, etc. Nothing too much to focus on, all his concentration on you at the moment, his little subject. Stepping into the bathroom, he starts the water at a low rumble to gain heat. It takes a moment to heat down in the lab, so he levitates you before him to better undress you. He can’t help but to look you over; purely for the sake of ensuring your health, nothing more. He steps forward, tracing a finger over your face. It’s so soft against the bone, he can feel that your temperature has returned to normal.

Following the curvature of your face, the tip of the finger glides downwards, stopping at the wrapping of the necktie. You care very much for this object, do you not? He remembers how you would play with it, subconsciously, when you all first met at Grillby’s pub. Stepping behind you, he unhooks the bow tie and places it within his jacket pocket. Softly his thumb strokes over the nape of your neck, rubbing away the imprint of the neck tie clip. He shivers as he hears you croon in your sleep, his magic jostling within his bones. For a moment he is perplexed, the determination had left your body, had it not? Then why… why was he reacting in such a way, to just the simplest of noise you could make in your sleep? Shakily, he reaches forward, unclasping your bra with the slightest bit of strife, allowing it to fall to the floor. Stepping around your floating form, he eyes your body; completely naked before him; nothing to hide.

Gray orbs scope about; for the purpose of research he tells himself, and he steps close as he reaches higher above your waist. He extends a finger towards your chest, but quickly retracts it when you make a sound. Had you awakened? A tad flustered, his eyes dart towards your face. No, still asleep, phew. What the hell was he doing? He shakes his head, chiding himself for his tempted actions. Keeping your unconscious body suspended in the air, placing a hand within the running shower water. It’s a pleasant temperature, not that he feels it the normal way that creatures with skin can. Skeletons are special that way; knowing what hot and cold are without having to experience said feeling. Willing your body forward, he carefully rests you under the water’s wrath, placing a protective hand over your face to prevent you from inhaling the droplets.

The water slides down your skin, passing over every curve and twist of your form. A pleased whine leaves you as you settle into the heat, relief filling you as the chill dispels itself from your skin. Gaster smiles to himself, satisfied with your reaction. Glancing around the bathroom, he summons forth his hand assistants to gather supplies to bathe you. It’s been a very long time since he has done something like this, a very long time. His eyes command the hands to wash you, rubbing the suds into your soiled skin. He bites down on his teeth, grays flaring with dark magic when your breasts react to the friction. Again. He commands the hands to glide over with the soap; to ensure your cleanliness, yes, that is why. Well… perhaps to also watch as your pink buds perk forth, a reaction exciting his core. A quiet moan flees you as your body shivers under the water. Gaster can’t help but for his breath to hitch in his throat. A pulsation of his lower region has him cursing, what a silly primal expression. It has been a while since he has mated with another, perhaps he should speak to Mettaton about arranging something for him-!

“Fuc-!” He lunges forward to catch you falling body before it makes contact with the shower floor. The combination of lack of sleep and...other means, caused him to fall distracted; his magic faltering to the point of dropping you! How careless! Grumbling to himself, he holds you in his arms while kneeling under the water, soaking himself down to the bone. Heh. Sans would appreciate that one. To his surprise, you do not stir; the experience apparently putting you into a somewhat comatose state afterwards. Interesting to note, he should remember to write this down lest he forget. He scuffs under his breath, shaking his head to attempt to clear his thoughts. Nonetheless, while you may be safe from cracking your skull on the ground, this suit is now absolutely ruined. Be it he has no one to blame but himself; he should have just placed you in bed right away. He glances downwards, the water running along the cracks in his face as he watches the droplets cascade forth onto your face. You look so peaceful in your resting state, content within his arms. It makes him feel… good?

What the hell is happening to him?

Huffing, he takes his hand; his own physical hand, to gather some shampoo from its bottle. He quickly transfers it over to your hair, before it has a chance to seep through the bones. He massages it into your scalp and ribbons it through your wet locks, watching the strands of hair twirl around each of his fingers. What should have taken just a few short minutes, turns into a task which takes a quarter of an hour; Gaster losing himself in thought as he enjoys playing with your hair. This was a zen calm he never thought he would encounter, his mind calming as he magic relaxes. He thoughts fall to you as he strokes your cheek once more, hand falling to rest between your breast. A smile breaks on his face; he can feel the beating of your heart as well as the singing of your soul, they mix into a beautiful harmony monsters can not personally experience. No! Stop it Gaster! You are just a subject! Yes, a subject for his experiments... to further his success of the determination drug. Right? Yes? Why was he even questioning this? Fact. Yes, this is just fact, plain and simple… fact.

Sighing, he quickly hastens his work to rinse the shampoo from your hair. He stands, his bones creaking from the sudden movement, and he forces his magic to attention. The power encases your body; surrounding it in a dark aura, floating your dripping frame out of the shower as the water shuts off. Stepping from the shower, Gaster sighs as the water tracks everywhere from the dripping cloth. Right, he’s wet too. He moves quickly to dry your body with the assistance of his magic, the towel drying you with haste. It's getting too late, and he has an early morning meeting he must be at least somewhat rested for. Leaving the bathroom together, he finds a hospital gown to dress you in. It’s a soft, throw away fabric, but it's better than nothing. He watches you smile in your sleep as you’re tucked into the bed. Tucked? Can you imagine? The menacing big boss of one of Underground City’s most prolific gangs tucking someone; a human at that, into bed!

Ludicrous!

Yet...

Here he is, finishing smoothing the covers around you to secure you safely amongst the sheets. My, my, Gaster… just what have you gotten yourself into? He pauses as he stands beside your bed, watching as your chest rises and falls between breaths. A final wave of magic; to be honest even this is exhausting at this point, and he has your body wired up to the different observation monitors. He places a light oxygen mask over your face, splaying your damp hair across the pillow when done. He was not going to take any chances. You shift mildly uncomfortable in your sleep, but fall quiet as the oxygen takes you deeper into your dreams. Complete. Stepping back he admires his work, pleased that you have not awoken from all the minor chaos. Darkness seeps under his feet, water hissing dry as it drips into the void. Now, bed for him as well; a long rest is good for the soul after all. Hm… the soul. Grays travel to your chest, perhaps he should take a look before he leaves? Just to make sure the determination has truly dissipated, he lies to himself. He can fully tell through the monitors that your soul is stable, still radiating it’s bright and verdant glow. It wouldn’t hurt for him to get a final look, just a peek before bed? His hand reaches forward, resting just inches from your arching breast. With the last bit of dark powers, he beckons forth your soul.

“No!”

You gasp awake, shooting your arms forward in defense. You feel yourself being tugged backwards, your face pulled to the side like a dog on a leash. The blankets once covering you go flying before you, fluttering down to land delicately on your lap. Panic and fear slam into your chest, alarms ringing out to your left and right catching you off guard. Breath, breath; you take a moment to calm yourself and the alarms do so as well. You are alone. It’s dim, your sight taking a moment to adjust. You rub your eyes and brush the dry strands of hair from your face. You’re in some sort of... hospital? Wait, was it all just a dream? Your arms struggle to remove the oxygen mask, feeling a force pulling them back down to your sides.

Ah, there are wire probes sticking to your skin, and was that a needle? Oh, an IV drip, that’s gonna be a pain to get out. Carefully you un-attach yourself, the beeping on the machines singing louder as your ears throb. This place, this place doesn’t feel right. The needle slides from you arm, blood trickling in its wake. You snatch a tissue from the nightstand, pressing against the weeping spot. After you were attacked in the alley, may be you never recovered? Wishful thinking. The aching in your body warns you otherwise as you gently rub your neck; yeah, those are definitely bite marks. So... it all really happened, didn’t it? You belong to a crime syndicate known for it’s rough dealings with the human race and it’s underground cartel.

Great!

You shove the blankets off and stand on the cold floor, it sends a chill up your spine. Where’s your shoes and socks? Wait, since when were you in a gown? Snatching one of the thin hospital sheets which once covered you, you wrap it around your body for a bit more protection. You do your best to mute the machines, in the end just unplugging them from the wall gives you the results you were looking for. Without the screeching of the monitors, you take a moment to think. Looking close to a monitor at the door, you’re surprised to catch the time; it’s nearly six in the morning. If you were home you would still be snuggling into your pillow, willing yourself back to sleep; not needing to be down at Grillby’s until much later. Here though…

You step into the hallway, the door closing behind you. It’s so… empty, not a single person; be it human or monster, in sight. You teeth chatter out of nervousness, a slight echo in the barren dark. Something about this place, as you inch your way down the dark hall, feels familiar. An odd sense of déjà-vu sweeps over you, but that’s impossible. You’ve never been here… a laboratory? Yes; let’s go with that, you’ve never been in this lab your whole life. A shiver trails down your spine as you round a corner. Darker, yet darker, with every step. Your feet pad softly on the ground, your toes beginning to sting as the cold floor bites at you. You need to find somewhere warm, at the very least. Where’s Grillby when you need him?

You pass by dimmed monitors, nothing reacting as you walk by. Why did you expect them to react? You shake the fuzziness from your head as you shiver in the cold. Maybe you could find a phone? Tell Grillby to get you, to save you from a predicament. He should know where the headquarters are after all, he had entrusted your safety to live here. Unless… maybe he didn’t care? You pause for a moment to think, doubt casting over you. Maybe you were just a hassle to him; a liability to own at the bar? Perhaps he just wanted you there to draw in more customers, more human customers. Stop it! This is Grillby you’re talking about! He’s as warm hearted as a monster can get! Yes! He’s a bit too hot to handle sometimes, but you enjoy each other’s company nonetheless!

You’re silly punning helps calm you, guiding you through your fog of fear and panic. It’s this place, this place is wrong. It’s stirring something wrong in you, triggering some sort of effect on your soul. Getting to a fork in the hallway, you pause as you look around. You take a slow, deep breath and replace a small smile on your face. Calm, remain calm and you can get through this. Out of this. Out of here. The dim lights do not do much to help illuminate the area, but you can see you have the choice between two paths, and there’s a door on your right. Scoping out you look for signs, something like an exit-!

Steps echo from behind you.

f*ck!

Door it is then!

To your luck, you find the door unlocked; hopefully you can hide inside this closet before you are caught. Wrenching the door open, you dart inside, the white sheet fluttering behind you as a ghostly aura. Quickly the door shuts behind you with an unnerving click, your back pressing against it as you try to steady your breath. The steps draw close as you stare at your feet, the light from the hallway illuminating a shadow which claws at your feet. You pray quietly within your head, praying that you will not be found. Your eyes pinch tight as you hear the door knob jiggle. No! Go away! Your blood turns to ice and your knees threaten to give out, but no sooner than it had started, the lever halts its movements. You watch as the shadow of whomever stood outside the door recedes, and you take this moment to inhale sharply; lungs expanding in relief as the air enters once more. Glancing forward, to your surprise you had not noticed sooner, but this is no closet.

Your bottom makes contact with the hard ground as you feel the strength of your legs turn to jelly. The room is huge, barren, and dark. The black emptiness makes you struggle to see your own hands in front of your face. It’s an odd world devoid of color as you rub your eyes. With what little you can see as your eyes adjust to the hollow gloom, you see… you are not alone. Figures of various sizes; more small with a few huge ones, are huddled further in. You bite your tongue to keep your teeth from chattering, a lump in your throat threatening to bring forth tears. Maybe if you were quick, maybe if you remained quiet enough; you could escape without making a scene. Your left arm snakes out from the cover, scaling its way up to the door knob. Just within reach, your fingers make contact with the cold metal. Just one pull and freedom awaits!

A growl vibrates the air above you.

Too scared to move.

A pair of glowing pale eyes watch.

Too scared to cry.

A fanged jaw widens with a hiss.

Too scared to scream.

A fiendish skull lowers itself to your chest.

Your soul pulls free.

Chapter 13: They Come In All Sizes, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Sniff.

Don’t move. Don’t breathe.

Sniff. Sniff.

Say nothing. Pretend to be nothing.

Purrrrrr…

…

Eh?!

You stare wide eyed up at the floating creature, watching as it nuzzles gently against your soul. It lowers itself to your level on the floor, resting itself at your feet. Up close you judge that the creature is roughly the size of a large dog, but it’s only a head; a spiky fanged, possibly dragon skull creature? Your hand slowly descends back to your side as you fear breaking eye contact. It’s soft glowing eyes shift between your’s and your soul. Dare you speak? Gently you raise your hand, thankful to watch as it nuzzles into your palm. To your surprise you watch as it chirps at you in response, but it’s jaw doesn’t open normally when it speaks… it’s bottom jaw separates to the side! Oh, that’s creepy! “Mrrowrgh…” It growls in delight, pleased as you stroke its snout. You’re mouth is to dry to speak so instead you lick your lips, making a soft cooing noise under your breath. It scoots closer and you feel something cold press against your leg. Narrowing your eyes, you use the dim light from under the door to read the tag hanging from the skull’s spiky tip. It reads…24...0.0...24… hm?

“...Omega?”

You gulp as the creature; Omega you presume, jumps up before you, it’s eyes dancing widely over you. “Oh, is that your name? Omega?” It chirps loudly and you slowly stand up onto your feet, pulling the blanket around you. You can’t help but for a small smile to cross your facade. In a low whisper you continue to speak, mentally attempting to will your soul back into your chest. “Well… nice to meet you Omega.” You quietly introduce yourself, failing to draw your soul into you. “I-I best be going though, it’s rather late-oh, hello there?” Another similar skull, roughly the same size as Omega, has appeared to your left… and your right. Nervously you step back against the door, surrounded by the canine-like skulls. “Um… those say… something 23… your’s says 22 something something… oh, there! You’re C-Chi, and you’re… Psi?” The new two chitter at different pitches, quizzically looking between Omega and yourself. “Uh… nice to meet you both-!”

GGRRRRAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!

The roar echoes within the room, bouncing off the walls and amplifying every second. Your own scream is overpowered as you cover your ears and knit your eyes shut. Chi and Psi scatter; keening softly back into the darkness. Omega jolts to your side, attempting to hide behind your back. It trembles and cries behind you, nipping softly at the white sheet. You look back at the whimpering creature, confusion plastered across your face. The room has fallen completely silent, except for the small skull’s wailing. “O-Omega, what was-” HUFF “-that?!” You freeze as your hair is blown to the side once more, a shiver raising all the hairs on your arms. From where your eyes watch over Omega, you slowly turn to face upward.

Dear. God. It’s HUGE!

Before you hovers two exceptionally large versions of Omega, their eyes flaming with a demonic passion that scars the dark with their glow. They hiss and growl, more towards each other, rather than towards you. As they make subtle movements, as if in a deep discussion, you can see they too wear tags. 1… and something 2… ah, “...Alpha… and B-Beta? Is it?” You cut off their growls as they stare you down in...um...shock? It’s really hard to tell. The bolder one of the two; Alpha, snarls down at you, flashing its sharp fangs mere inches from your soul. “W-Wait!” You shoot your arm out to grab your soul, to pull it back to safety, but Beta knocks your hand away with a quick head-butt.

Sniff, sniff, sniff...? “Mrrowrgh…?” “Grwgh?” “Mrrow!”

…?

Uh…?

The two skulls converse between each other, belting out odd sounds you wish you could translate. Instead you sort of slink to the side as you attempt to close in on the door. Perhaps while they are distracted, you can escape? Your movements are caught on by Alpha and Beta, who growl at you in response. Fear spikes your soul, causing it to shudder before them. There’s a flash to the large one’s eyes, the power flaring behind it startling you. You can see as it widens its maw, a magical pulsation beginning to collect. Run! Your instincts scream as you tear into the darkness on your right, losing the blanket in your haste. There’s the sound of a beam blasting into the metal door, causing it to dent in response. W-Was that it’s attack? The skull bellows in anguish as you pick up your pace, no way you were going to die here! Blindly running in the dark, you are thankful for the slight glow of you soul to help guide your way. However, it’s not enough. “f*ck!” You cry as you tumble forward, tripping over something in the pitch black floor. Groaning you rub your head as you scramble onto your hands and knees.

NNNNNHHHHHHSSSSSKKKKK!!!

“S-Stop!” You shout as you crawl back, cornered by Alpha’s hissing form. How were these creatures so fast?! You tremble with wide eyes, there’s nowhere to run. You watch as the creature’s eyes fade away, a strong power generating in its maw. It’s a terrifyingly bright blue, only a shade off of white, and it’s aimed directly at your soul. Is this… how you are going to die? You do your best to jump back, plastering yourself into the wall, but to no avail. As your arms cover your face, a failing attempt to protect yourself, you feel a heat overwhelm you. It bears down, a swamping force which causes your knees to go weak. You collapse onto the ground, but your voice falls wordless from you, a silent mortifying scream of terror.

Then there is nothing.

Slowly your eyes reopen and you lower your arms. You feel… fine? You blink, the creature blinks, it’s mouth still wide open from its blast. You seriously feel okay, maybe a tad warmer, but nothing outside of how you woke up just minutes ago. Alpha’s eyes narrow and you watch in confusion as it begins charging for another attack. Once more you brace yourself, quivering as the heated magical encompasses you again. Before the attack even finishes, you have your arms at your side as you stare up at the creature, truly befuddled. Was it… playing with you? Playing a game you have no idea of the rules? This time you watch as it sends forth its magic against you, only your eyes narrowing from it’s bright shine. It must have some power behind it, after all, you're watching as the ground steams around you as the power reverberates off it. It’s like… it’s like being…

Flashed with a flashlight.

“H-Hey, I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s why you’re attacking me.” You speak softly, watching as more skulls appear behind Alpha’s frustrated form. You step forward, a palm outreached carefully to show you mean no harm. It snarls, the other creatures around it observing carefully. Again, your pelted by it’s magical strength, but you push through to stand in defiance before it. “Please... stop, I swear I mean no harm.” Beads of sweat drip down it’s bony structure, it’s glowing eyes darting about. The way it’s acting, you feel as though it's protecting its… pack? If the name’s stand by their meaning, that doesn’t sound far from the truth. “I’m sorry if I woke you guys up, I didn’t mean to enter your uh, home.” You apologize and bow your head, hoping in some way to convey your regret to the creatures.

“M-Mrrow…?”

The smallest of the skulls glides forward and a small smile dresses your face. It’s little Omega. It chitters softly, not making eye contact with the towering Alpha. In an odd way, perhaps by how they are acting, you can tell some sort of pack code is being broken. Your attention is snatched as Omega nudges your soul forward, and for a split second you feel giddy. Ticklish perhaps? You watch with baited breath as Alpha lowers its muzzle, imitating Omega’s actions. You cover your mouth to keep from giggling out loud, it feels like someone’s running a feather over your arms and legs! “Oh m-my god! Hehehe, stop! Hah!” You double over as you hold your sides, gasping for air. Alpha retreats and Omega waggles about, pleased with not just your response, but its leader as well. You take in gulps of air as you slowly rise again, not wanting to startle them with any quick movements. Your eyes meet with Alphas, and your mouth twitches to give away your joy. It’s eyes… they are literally tiny hearts.

As if it notices your gaze, it shakes its head; probably clearing this thoughts, and it’s eyes return to its original sharp gaze. In your more calmed state, you watch as your soul returns safely to your protective chest, allowing you to heave a sigh of relief. Your hand returns to the air again, offering a sign of peace between the two of you. Omega rushes to meet your gesture, but is driven to the side by Beta’s snapping jaw. Alpha is the one to float forward, your palm pressing into the surprisingly warm muzzle of the skull. It really is made of bone! “Oh wow, you’re amazing up close!” It’s hard to describe as you make gentle strokes, gaining more confidence with repetition. The skull’s texture is tough, like a rough hide, yet soft... like fine cashmere. Soon your encircled by slightly smaller skulls, all begging for your attention. You do your best to pet each of them, but quite soon you are submerged within a sea of bone. “H-Hey! Calm down there’s enough of me to go-AROUND!?”

You yelp as your scooped up into the air, sitting down on the head of Alpha. You grasp a hold of its… uh, horns? It’s the best you can to steady yourself. You tower over the others, and give a thankful petting to Alpha’s head. “Woah, thanks for the lift there.” It purrs in response, then snaps a sharp tone of growl towards the circling others. You hold on tight as the skull moves in the dark, easily skating across the air with ease. You find yourself in the heart of the room, Alpha laying down among what looks to be pillows and cushions. You slide off its head, sitting beside its snout. The others file forth; Beta lying to your side protectively as the others rest around you. Your eyes have adjusted quite well in the dark and you do your best to count just how many are around you. To your surprise, there are many more than you first thought. At the very least you count twenty; all different sizes, snoring and chittering quietly amongst themselves in their… nest? That’s kinda where you are now isn’t it. Just how are you gonna sneak out of here?

Creakkkkk...

Wait, what?

A flood of light pours into the room and you duck behind Alpha’s resting form. Someone is here. There’s clicking on the floor, and it echoes deep into your ears. Your breath catches and you huddle closer to your new skull friend. The steps are getting closer, the clicking getting louder. The skulls around you get antsy, starting to hover off the ground. Alpha and Beta do not move, staying grounded by your sides. Lights flicker on above and you're quick to shield your sensitive pupils. The room illuminates rather quickly and to your surprise, the true size of the room is rather startling. You notice the clicking on the ground has stopped and you brace for your discovery. Any second, you were going to be found. Going to be sent back to the room you had awoken in. A shadow looms over you, a towering mass emerges around the corner of Alpha’s massive build. It’s Gaster! He found you again!

“HUMAN?”

“AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

“NYEHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

“AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

“NYEHHHHHHHHH????”

“AAAhhhh…”

“NYEH!”

“Ah.”

“NYEH?”

“Ah...uh...”

“Er... Human? Is this impromptu screaming contest over now? If so, I believe that I am the winner! Nyeh heh heh!”

Oh. My. God.

The shadows scatter away to reveal a friendly skeleton, with a big bubbly smile. You bite down on your lower lip to keep from spilling laughter. It wasn’t Gaster after all, it was the tall nice skeleton from before, the one which healed you back at the bar. His name slips you at the moment as the giggle fit hinders you stupid. Screaming contest? Sure, why not. He looks down at you quizzically while fumbling with the large bag in his arms. Instead of the handsome suit he wore during your first meeting, you see he’s in a rather casual set of clothing; a simple shirt and slacks. As you calm down you notice that you're sitting alone on the ground, the skull creatures are surrounding Mister Talks Loud. They are hissing and snapping at him, and worry bites at your gut. You stand quickly to intervene, but Tall Bones cuts you off.

“Oh! Just a moment Human! I must attend to a quick chore! Everyone! Follow meeeee!!!”

He bolts off at incredible speed, leaving you in the dust. Literally, actually. You cough a bit as the skulls quickly begin following his every move. With sharp turns and speedy arm movements, you notice he’s tossing things out of the bag. You stare in confusion as he leaps into the air, perfect splits; with pointed toes, it’s quite elegant, and you cross your arms to keep from applauding this weird unfolding scene. As he stops and rounds a turn, you notice then that the skull creatures are on the floor, nibbling something? Ohhh… he’s feeding them! Now this all makes a bit more sense. Only, just a bit. He stands still and pours one final pile of food; which Alpha and Beta happily share and devour. He comes jogging back up to you, rolling up the now empty bag of food and tucking it under his arm.

He stands in front of you for a moment, tilting his head to the side. You only stand silent as you try to remember his name. You think back to your first meeting. Orange, he had magical orange eyes which had casted powerful healing powers to heal your bashed face. He wore gloves, yeah? His brother is Sans, which is easy for some reason to remember. Why can’t you remember his name? “Human?” His voice interjects your train of thought, but does not interrupt the train’s path. Wait… orange… tall… that’s it! You slam your fist into your palm, smiling proudly at your superior memory skills!

“You’re the Great-”

He begins to beam wildly down at you, hearts forming in his eyes. His hands travel to where a heart would be, leaning forward he listens intently for you to proclaim his name. Shout his recognition to the heavens! Finally, someone knows of the Great and Prestigious-

“-Papaya!”

Papaya?

Pa...pa...ya…?

.

..

…

“Nyoo hoo hoo…”

He slumps over in defeat, hanging his head in despair. Crap. You feel like you messed up. His head snaps upwards and he poses before you, arms fully outstretched in an outrageous manner.

“HUMAN! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM NOT A STINKY ORANGE FRUIT!”

Oops.

“I-I, I was... just, just kidding! Yeah! I knew your name is Papyrus, knew it all along! I um... tricked you?”

Way to go brain! Thanks for the help.

Now you made your probably only ally upset with you!

To your surprise, Papyrus quickly stands up straight, a bright smile once again dressing his features. “Nyeh heh heh! A fellow fan of japes! Oh! I had no idea!” His uh, eyes… sparkle? A bright pink blush dress his cheek bones, it reminds you of a sunrise. “Human! Why did you not say so sooner! Are you a fan of puzzles as well?!” You remain silent, flabbergasted, and just nod your head. He’s not wrong; you like catching the newspaper for it’s joke and puzzle section. Is he seriously not going to ask why you're here? You watch as his face turns stern, you feel chills climb up your arms. Slowly he lowers his face to meet you eye to uh… eye socket. He says something and you don’t quite catch it at first. The closeness of his face to yours causes a light scarlet to flatter your own cheeks. “Uh, w-what was that?” You stutter out, biting your lower lip to keep your teeth from chattering.

“...Crossword or Junior Jumble?”

This is it.

The moment of truth.

This decides whether or not you can escape here alive.

A test of fate! A test of fortune!! A test of luck!!!

You can’t mess this up!

“Um... J-Junior... Jumble?”

“NYEH!”

You cower behind your arms, awaiting your doom.

Still… awaiting your doom...

...any time now.

...

“HUMAN!”

Here it comes!

“W-Woah!”

Your snatched from the ground, strong bone arms hefting you into a hard chest. Quite literally in fact, your nose is probably going to bruise from the impact of hitting solid bone. Dizziness strikes you as you feel yourself being twirled about. “Ha ha! It’s so nice to see another intellectual being among the household!” He stops spinning on a dime, and you press your head into his chest, waiting as the room slows down with you. “Are you okay, Human?” Papyrus looks down at you, his voice dropping a slight octave as he speaks. Before you have a moment to speak, your stomach sings out the song of it’s people. Your face twists in embarrassment as you attempt to shrink in his grasp. Papyrus squeezes you tighter and turns you about in his arms, holding you in an oddly comforting cradling position.

“Oh ho! You are hungry? Why didn’t you say so! It’s just about time for breakfast to begin! I, the Amazing Chef Papyrus, would love to share my culinary expertise with you! Heh heh!” He keens joyfully and the skulls watch on as he escorts you from the room. A few scurry after Papyrus and he stops at the dented door, wagging his finger at them in disdain. “No, no! You know the rules. After eating, you are to wait exactly one hour before I get you for training! I can’t have you getting sick!” Papyrus chides and you look up at him befuddled. These things could get... sick? Wait...

Training?

The door clicks closed behind the two of you and you wait for Papyrus to place you down. He doesn’t. Instead he begins carrying you, walking towards a large staircase. His strides are long and confident, it does not take you long until you are out of that basem*nt area and into familiar hallway territory. Still feeling the soreness from your endeavors earlier; oh god, endeavors with his BROTHER and his BOSS, you cringe with the realization. You are glad he’s carrying you and you shift around with unease, an end sense of guilt fluttering in your stomach. Papyrus, feeling your unrest, sits you up in his arms so that your legs dangle before you. At least you don’t have to look up at his face any more, it reminds you of Gaster and Sans…

You feel your sins crawling on your back.

“Ta-da! Here we are!” You’re filled with surprise as the room fills with bright lights, and you nearly gasp; in fact you do audibly gasp, as the most pristine kitchen comes into focus. “Oh, wow!” You exclaim with excitement, you’ve always had a passion for the culinary arts. You’re placed at a barstool around the kitchen’s island, watching as Papyrus ponders furiously for a moment. Your eyes shift over to the wall and you catch the time. It’s half past six; so much has happened in the past thirty minutes. You yawn quietly and stretch, thankful that the hospital gown is large and baggy on your body, no accidental flashing of your tushy. Papyrus jolts over to the large refrigerator, throwing open the door with a quick pull. “Nyeh heh heh, I know the perfect meal for breakfast! Human-friend! I shall make for you a special dish!”

Oh? Special?

Wait, he called you his friend!

“In that case, can I give you a hand?” You speak up happily and jump down from your seat, shivering against the cold of the floor. Sooner or later your feet will get used to the feeling, you hope. Papyrus has paused mid reach into the upper cabinets, steadily turning over to you. His eye sockets are wide, are those tears in the corners? “R-Really? Cook with me? Wowie! I have made the greatest of friends who shares the same cooking passion as I!” You smile and step closer to him, helping him grab cutting boards and mixing bowls for... breakfast? Right? Cause these ingredients aren’t what you would think breakfast would be made with. Just what recipe is he following? You hear a box shake and a pot clatter against the stove. Your eyes fill with alarm and panic as you watch his chaotic actions while he skates about the kitchen floor. Just what is he doing with that-?!

Oh. No.

COOKING START

This is going to be a mess.

Chapter 14: Another View Is Better, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Click.

“you know Gaster, i didn’t take you for one to sleep in.”

Purple hues gain strength as they open into a dimly lit room. “Sans, what time is it?” He shifts to sit up, groaning as his head pounds in his hands. The cracks, rarely do they ache, but when they do, it’s just a reminder of the... past. “eh, ‘round six now. i let you sleep in an extra fifteen.” The tiny skeleton speaks from the dark, stepping closer to the bed to switch on the small lamp. Gaster grumps as he stands, slipping on his loafers. Much better. Sans shrugs, letting his own quiet yawn escape. “if you cared, i checked on the gal a few minutes ago. she’s still asleep, still stable… even after the stunt you pulled.” He mutters under his breath, shoving his hands into his pockets. Rarely is there a time he is allowed to dress down; just in his slacks and shirt, and of course, his slippers, mornings are a treat. “Good,” Gaster speaks up, straightening out his velvet robe across his body. “Be sure to note any anomalies you may have noticed while checking on her; body temperature, soul aura, etcetera…”

They leave out of his room, sealing the door behind him with his magic. They quietly walk down the hall, as to not awaken Frisk, who should not stir at this hour. It’s too early for a child, who's still well into their school studies, to be awake for the organization’s meetings and whatnot. In the future though, that is another story. “Sans,” Gaster speaks up as they turn down the hallway, headed towards the lab. “This girl, troubles me, I must admit.” Sans glances up at the taller monster, shrugging with his causal grin plastered across his face. “‘eh, nothin’ to worry ‘bout in my opinion. She got no LV in her, if needed I could take her out in one shot, capiche? you got nothin’ to worry about.” Sans does his best to reassure his boss as they step into the observation station. It's not that he wants to take you out; well, maybe in that way, but the gang comes first before all. “I… I know this Sans. There’s just something about her that's, odd?” He looks over to the smaller one for confirmation, but Sans is not looking at him. He's looking at the monitors with a terribly grim expression, the lights of his eyes gone.

“t-the, the blasters!”

Whipping around, he stands, frozen in place. “The hell is she doing in there?! Sans you just said-!” The panicked skeleton’s eye blazes a bright cerulean. “i know what i just said, that doesn't matter! they'll tear her apart, i'm going-!” “No.” Dark magic surrounds Sans, holding him in place; his teleportation abilities muted. “T h e f u c k y o u m e a n n o.” A sly grin cracks upon the elders face, eyes humming their beautiful purple hues. “Let's see what happens first. If she lives, there is no reason to fret. If she dies, it's all in the name of science, would it not? Besides, Grillby is thinking we are sending her to the encampment in Northside, no harm done...” You would be out of his head were you to perish, but that's just a bonus. Sans growls under his breath, sockets narrowing at the other, but at the sounds on the monitor they turn away. Their eyes lock onto the screen, watching as the lesser void skulls surround you. Sweat drips down Sans face, he's trained these creatures to kill, and they have… over and over. They do not sense LV or EXP like traditional monsters can, no, they are like him; the scent of karma can be one of purity or one of putrid stench. With you…

He couldn’t sense anything.

“GGRRRRAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!”

sh*t, it’s Alpha!

Sans struggles against the bindings, his magical eye flickering as it attempts to overpower the others. “Oh, Sans look!” Gaster exclaims, surprise written on his features. His breath hitches in his chest, his bones rattling out of nervousness. On the monitor, despite the darkness of the room, he can see you cornered by the large beasts. Alpha and Beta; the leaders of the pack, seem to be eyeing your already drawn out soul. It glows green in the darkness, which is odd, considering the danger that you are in. The fangs of Alpha hover just meters from your soul, it’s sniffing, testing your karma. Sans turns away, waiting for the blast. This is what he has trained them to do; sniff, evaluate, destroy. His sockets shut as he hears their quiet growls and hisses, they are communicating.

Planning.

“...Alpha… and B-Beta? Is it?”

It’s your voice.

“Mrrowrgh…?” “Grwgh?” “Mrrow!”

The blasters… are…

Confused?

Sans eyes turn back to the screen, but not before passing over Gaster. Gaster is gripping the table; if he had knuckles, they would be white. His face is conflicted, it's joyful, yet frightened. “No… way. Sans, do you see this?” He turns to face the smaller skeleton, who nods in return. “yeah, they… they don’t know what to think of her. i’ve never seen them act like this.” They watch with baited breaths as you attempt to shrink away. “no!” Sans screeches out, sensing the growing power within the maw of Alpha. Alpha’s eyes blank out, it’s blast causing the screen to go white for a few seconds. A few dreadfully long seconds. “i-is…?” Sans couldn’t bring himself to say it, instead he glances downwards, afraid to see the results. “Sans, look!” Gaster shouts and Sans does so, watching your fleeting figure in the darkness. “damnit gaster, let me get her!”

You stumble over something in the darkness, collapsing onto your hands and knees.

“gaster!”

“Hush, Sans. Things are getting very, very interesting…”

This sad*stic f*ck.

“ NNNNNHHHHHHSSSSSKKKKK!!!”

“S-Stop!”

You tremble visibly on the screen, throwing your arms up in defense. Cornered by Alpha’s hissing form, you have no chance to run. Alpha’s eyes fade away, a strong power generating in its maw. It’s going to unleash another blast. It’s a terrifyingly bright blue, only a shade off of white, and it’s aimed directly at your soul. Is this… how you are going to die? Die before him on a television? Like some sort of MTT performance down at the theater? What is Grillby going to say? What would any of your family say? Do you… even have a family? They watch as you do your best to jump back, plastering yourself into the wall, but to no avail. Alpha unleashes it’s power, overwhelm you in light. It bears down, a swamping force Gaster and Sans know all too well. “n-no…” Sans feels the magic in his soul pulsate as he watches you collapse onto the ground. Your lips move, but your voice falls wordless from you, a silent mortifying scream of terror.

Then, there is nothing.

“...Amazing!”

“t-that’s... is that even possible?”

You... you’re okay.

Sans steps forward, free from Gaster’s magic as they both look closely at your soul. It’s hard to tell, but they see no damage. Even with the consecutive blasts Alpha unleashes, you do not fall injured. “Could, could this be because of the determination pill? Sans, could she be too determined... to die?” Gaster speaks up, his eye sockets now empty, but filled only by curiosity. “it’s, i… i don’t know. that’s a possibility.” What in the world is going on? It’s not like these attacks are missing. First off the blasters rarely ever miss, he was sure to train them to always hit their mark. Second, they could see the steam wisping from around your feet. The attacks are hitting you, yet… you are unharmed.

“H-Hey, I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s why you’re attacking me.”

You are speaking softly, more blasters have appeared behind Alpha’s angered and confused form. Wait, are you… trying to pet it? You brave soul. “Sans, my blasters,” They hear you get hit again, yet you stand firm. “They can’t hurt, let alone kill her. If this is because of the determination pill, imagine the possibilities!” Gaster cheers, turning on his heels to practically skip over to his desk; Sans stays watching as more skulls appear behind Alpha’s frustrated form. You step forward, a palm outreached carefully to no doubt show you mean no harm. Alpha snarls defensively, the other creatures around it observing carefully. Alpha, Sans can sense it, is scared of you. Again, your pelted by it’s magical strength, but you push through to stand in defiance before it.

“Please... stop, I swear I mean no harm.”

Please, stay calm Alpha, you mean what you say.

“I’m sorry if I woke you guys up, I didn’t mean to enter your uh, home.”

“M-Mrrow…?”

Sans recognizes the blaster immediately, it’s Omega; the youngest and weakest among the pack. Omega chirps and nuzzles your soul, it pulsates, it would be missed if one was to blink. He watches you with slow breaths as Alpha lowers its muzzle, imitating Omega’s actions. “she’s… she’s laughing? boss, the contact with her soul is uh, tickling her funny bone.” He attempts to joke, but Gaster brushes it off. “Intriguing, do you perhaps believe it’s the kindness radiating from it? I’ve never seen such high concentrations of one trait in a soul.” Sans nods at Gaster’s words, stepping away from the screen; knowing that for the moment, you are safe. “i know. the only time i ever seen a single trait soul was the kiddo, even then it’s been a long time since they let me see it.” Sans shrugs, leaning against the desk Gaster is furiously writing notes at. Gaster pauses his writing and looks up at slouching assistant. “Well, Frisk… is a special case. Their soul, is a bit different than that of an average child. You sensed it when you first found them too, if you remember?” Yeah, he remembers, it reminds him of your soul.

Frisk and you, something's different about your souls… he just can’t place it.

“H-Hey! Calm down there’s enough of me to go-AROUND!?”

Your yelp causes the two skeletons to jump and look at the screen, only to sigh in relief. Alpha is just carrying you on it’s head. At least that means it trust you, this is a rare maneuver Sans taught them in case of emergency situations. It carries you over to rest in the heart of the nest, the center of the blaster kennel. “Sans, I have never seen them so trusting; even they are wary of Frisk, a child! How absurd!” Gaster chuckles to himself, but Sans glances away. Gaster just can’t detect what he can, not that he can blame him. It’s a gift and a curse, all wrapped together in what Sans calls his ability to sense karma. Karmic Retribution. “Sans, I believe after the events with the determination pill and now, with my blasters, I am scrapping my original plans. Make sure you call the Northside brigade to inform them that we are keeping the human, she can provide us with… her services.” Gaster chuckles to himself behind a closed fist. Sans doesn’t find it as funny; instead a light glow touches his cheek bones. Yeah, just what he needs, a reminder of last night.

Creakkkkk...

“hm? oh, looks like paps is up to feed the gaster blasters-”

“Stop calling them that.”

“-and i bet he doesn’t see her.”

They watch in silence as he quietly steps up, struggling with the blasters’ specially created breakfast. They watch as you shrink behind Alpha, shielding your no doubt, sensitive human eyes from the changing light. Papyrus steps closer, walking around the little ones. Alpha and Beta do not move, staying grounded by your side. Lights flicker on above and they can fully see you sitting there in your hospital gown. “uh, boss, when did she get into that?” Sans eyes the other, rising a bone brow, a snicker on his smile. “I, um, I had to! She was filthy from your, er, savage actions.” He stammers as darkness tints his cheek bones. Sans rolls his glowing whites, his grin twitching upwards as he watches his brother close in on you. As much as Gaster’s trying, he know’s in his bitter scientific soul that he’s starting to feel something for you… like the rest of them. The kiddo and M.K. wouldn’t stop talking about you after you saved them.

You're quite special.

“HUMAN?”

“AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

“NYEHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

Very special.

“Arethey serious?”

“AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

“NYEHHHHHHHHH????”

“Sans, is this seriously happening?”

“yup.”

“AAAhhhh…”

“NYEH!”

“Ah.”

“I can’t believe these two.”

“i know, those two are real boneheads .”

“Stop it.”

“NYEH?”

“Ah...uh...”

“numbskulls? ”

“Stop.”

“Er... Human? Is this impromptu screaming contest over now? If so, I believe that I am the winner! Nyeh heh heh!”

“pfffffttt… oh bro, never cease to amuse me.”

Sans does his best to withhold his laughter, while Gaster sighs as he smacks his forehead into his palm, an audibly loud click of bone echoing in the small room. Between Sans and Papyrus, Frisk and M.K., you were just going to be an addition to his headaches… but it’s a price to pay if he can further his research. Sans eyes have yet to leave the screen as he watches the scene unfold before him. You are staring at each other as he stares both concerned and confused down upon you. The blasters have become more aware, snapping at the food bag Papyrus is carrying with him. He can see you get tense and rise quickly in alarm. He feels a flutter of warmth in his barren chest; you’re worried about his brother’s safety. Before you’re worry grows, Papyrus speaks out to you in reassurance.

“Oh! Just a moment Human! I must attend to a quick chore! Everyone! Follow meeeee!!!”

He bolts off at incredible speed, leaving you in the dust. Literally, actually, and Sans can’t help but to chuckle. You cough a bit as the skulls quickly begin following his every move. With sharp turns and speedy arm movements, you seem to notice what Papyrus is tossing out of the bag. You stare in confusion as he leaps into the air, perfect splits; with pointed toes, his brother is such a show off, and you fidget off to the side. He watches as you fight your smile teasing your lips, it doesn’t last. There’s something about your smile that further warms his bones, in a pleasant way.

“Sans, is Papyrus done the feeding yet?”

“yeah, just ‘bout. theta, mu and nu are still struggling though, but i think they’ll be fine come 'round next week. their wounds should all be healed.”

“You’re the Great-”

“Those bastards, the Crown Five think they can just get away with hurting my bl-!”

“-Papaya!”

...

“...Snrkkk, ahem, damnit. She caught me off guard.”

“this girl is amazing.”

“HUMAN! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM NOT A STINKY ORANGE FRUIT!”

“Sans, come along, I am sure the girl will be okay with your brother.”

“yeah, i’m comin’.”

The two skeletons leave with haste from the lab, headed to the secondary processing section of lab, where the determination pills are created. With a wave of his hand, Gaster opens the magically sealed door to the heart of the production room. Sans follows after him, shuffling his slippers against the clean linoleum. No one is to report to the lab until this afternoon, but he and Gaster always do a quick check before production is to start. Orders are noted, tests are set to be recorded; everything in it’s proper place before the staff starts their shift. It’s easy work, but this lazy bag of bones usually uses his magic to quickly finish the job. With Gaster here though, everything is done meticulously... by hand. “Sans, the first needs three more vials, table six needs two beaks…” The list goes on and on, yeah, this was going to take a few minutes.

Hopefully, Papyrus is taking good care of you.

“No, Friend! You must stir faster!”

“It’s going to splash out if I do that! It’s slow and low, that’s the culinary mantra one must cook by!”

There are just too many cooks in this kitchen. Papyrus was quite surprised by your culinary expertise, as they challenged and rivaled his own. Although, you two have very differing styles. The noodles dance around in the boiling water as you stand defensively before it, wielding a ladle. “Nyeh?! You need more passion to cook the noodles properly or else-” You shake your head, cutting off the overzealous skeleton. “Please, trust me! We can still make spaghetti, I swear! Just… let me give you some input? Maybe share…” You trail off, trying to come up with some sort of excuse to save this culinary disaster. “...chef secrets?” You must have said the right thing, as Papyrus’s stubborn attitude changes immediately. “C-Chef secrets! Why yes, please do speak of the wise tradition of the kitchen arts?”

Phew.

Crisis averted.

You take his hand, pulling him to stand next to you. Lowering your voice to a more tolerable level at six or so in the morning, you begin working together with Papyrus to create a somewhat salvageable breakfast. You toss out the burnt noodles while he’s looking away, starting a new boiling pot of water. “You see Papyrus, adding salt,” You drizzle some in like you’re playing with sand. “...this allows the noodles to absorb the perfect amount of seasoning while cooking, decreasing the chance to over salt it later, you know?” You turn to face him, his dark sockets looking down at you with wonder. “Now, on average a single pot of spaghetti-uh,” You glance at the box, “oh, make that fettuccine, takes on average twelve minutes to cook. Once it’s done we can do a special test to insure it’s fully cooked!” You beam up at him and he clasps his gloved hands before him, “Test!? I have never tested the pasta before! Do they need at least a B to pass?” You fight yourself from snickering by shaking your head. “Don’t worry, it’s not a graded test, here I’ll show you in a minute.”

You take him by the hand and walk over to the kitchen counter, pondering for a moment. “In all actuality, pasta is an extension of bread. Another grain which complements whatever we pair it with. Meaning we can in theory; here me out, create a breakfast dish using eggs… cheese… oh maybe a meat, some vegetables... how’s that sound?” You hear a slight rattling noise and you look over to the standing skeleton, noticing a light orange blush to his face. You follow his stare down to your hand, it’s still laced with his. You quickly retract the touch and smile nervously up to him. “I-uh, sorry about that. I get really focused while cooking.” He shakes his head, his smile beaming on a tinted tangerine face. “No! No! It’s so nice to have someone here who has a level of passion as I for cooking! I… Well, no… um, no one usually likes to cook with me.” He wrings his fingers together and takes by the table on a neighboring barstool. You feel your chest clench at his words and you turn around to stir the noodles, to distract yourself. “I did have a friend growing up, we used to cook often! Quite often in fact, but after an accident… her parents didn’t let me over! I haven't seen her in a long time, but I know we still both share the same yearning to further our cooking abilities.” He smiles up at you, but with your back turned you do not notice.

“Oh, hey,” You break the lull of quiet by lifting a noodle out from the pot. “Watch this Papyrus. I was taught this long ago, it’s the true test to see if the pasta has fully been cooked.” He stands up and walks over to you, watching intently. The final drops of the water drips back into the steaming pot below. “One… two… three!” You fling the noodle across the kitchen onto the adjacent wall. It lands with a weird, squishy sound, but it sticks! “Nyeh! Human?! You know magic as well?!” Papyrus darts forward, examining the pasta closely. “Well, it’s not magic, it’s-!” You’re shoved to the side by the sprinting monster. “I MUST TRY IT TOO!” He shouts happily as you catch yourself on the opposite countertop. What in the world?! He grabs the pot by it’s handles. You feel the color drain from your face.

“Wait, PAPYRUS NO!”

Two; all too familiar, skeletons step into the kitchen.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH

There goes the pot, flying across the room.

Boiling water and all.

Everywhere.

Just as Sans and Gaster step into kitchen.

…

f*ck.

“heh, looks like you two are in noodles of trouble.”

Thanks for that Sans...

Really appreciate it.

Chapter 15: Sometimes, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“Papyrus, clean up this mess, I must have a talk with our... friend here.”

You hold back your trembles, your eyes unable to meet with that of Sans and Gaster. Papyrus dashes off to gather cleaning supplies and you freeze in place, wishing he could have stayed. Last time you were alone with these two... well, you’re still sore after all. You tense as you see movement in the corner of your eye, only to notice it’s Sans walking over to the counter. He hefted himself up onto a bar stool seat, resting his elbows against the table with a click. You briefly take in their morning wear, it’s drastically different than the suit and tie mix they were wearing when you first met them. Gang members dress down sometimes, who knew? Gaster speaks up first, stepping towards you in a long stride as he states your name with a sharp tongue. Nowhere to run. Last night flashes before your eyes. Nowhere to hide. You back up and run into the cabinets, your arms before you defensively.

“P-Please, I’m sorry! I-I woke up alone, and, and panicked, I-!”

“toots, relax, we ain’t gonna hurt yah.”

“Infact…”

Your chin is caught between Gaster’s fingers and thumb, forcing you to face the cracked skull up close. Tears threaten the corners of your eyes as you feel your pulse begin to race. Gaster’s eye sockets are barren of their usual glows, a wicked smile dancing across his face. “...we have something else in mind for you.” His words are sharp, stabbing you into your gut as your eyes dilate in fear. S-Something else? Your eyes dart over to Sans, who just gives you a soft grin in return. “W-Wha-?” Your question falls as does Gaster’s hand, just as Papyrus returns to a bucket and broom. Papyrus; your savior, you would be safe as long as he is around it seems. Gaster stands uncomfortably close, the soft fabric of his robe brushing against your naked arm. You really wish you could find your luggage to change into something… more modest. You can feel the chill of the counter through the thin cheap fabric against your bottom. Sans raises a hand, beckoning you over to him. At first you refuse to move, your face blossoming to a light pink as memories of before crawl through your mind. Your eyes lower as you shift over to sit beside him.

Papyrus works quickly to clean the mess as Gaster and Sans eye you with confusion. “Care to tell why Papyrus threw a pot against my kitchen wall?” Gaster speaks up, pouring himself a glass of red wine; from the smell of it, your expertise pins out that it’s a cabernet. Wait, it’s like around seven in the morning… isn’t it a bit early? Whatever. “yah, the pot flew right pasta -us.” Sans spoke up, reaching forward to drag closer the beautifully arranged fruit basket from the heart of the table. Don’t laugh. Don’t smile. Your lip twitches upward; goddamn smart ass skeleton. The giddiness in Sans’s pinprick eyes are a tell that he indeed caught you snickering. Gaster grumbles while swirling the wine around in the glass, an arm crossing his chest as he lounges against the cabinets. Sans leans forward for an answer, just a breath away from your neck. You feel the heat creep across your cheeks as you glance away nervously, “W-Well, it's part of an old cooking trick, you, I, uh, you're supposed to throw one noodle though… and it, er, sticks if it's d-done.” You struggle to speak as Gaster eyes remain focused on you while he inhales the wine’s scent before pressing it to his… wait, how the hell is he drinking that? You feel a presence beside you. Hot breath dances across the sensitive skin where Sans’s had bit you before, it causes chills on your arms and a flutter in your belly. Alarms go off in your head, you feel like running.

“ya’know, i hav’ta admit,”

You turn warily to eye the skeleton, a curious brow arched.

“seein’ a flyin’ pot of noodles can really throw off one’s daily…”

Sans trails off to pull out an apple from the basket offering it to you with a wink.

“rotini .”

“BROTHER! IT IS TOO EARLY FOR-!”

Khaff! Khoff! Khak!

The two of you whip around to find Gaster choking behind a gloved fist, obviously not prepared for early morning Sans-ery. His eyes narrow as he glowers down the silly one by your side. You bite your bottom lip as he lowers his gloved hand and choke back a gasp as you see wine... dripping... from his nose… hole? Holy sh*t, it looks like he gave himself a bloody nose! You turn away, hiding your face behind your hands, you back shaking as you try to withhold your laughter. Which brings you to another question, just how exactly do skeleton’s digestive tracks work?! Do they even have those?! “B-Boss?! Are you okay?!” Papyrus is instantly by his side, a clean towel in hand; Gaster takes it with more force than he probably intended to as he wipes off his face. Sans… is not as couthe as you. He’s hunched over, pounding his fist into the table; bringing a pleasant sound of laughter into the air.

“Damnit Sans, this robe was just dry cleaned. Papyrus, remind me to speak with Catty and Bratty to tailor a back up robe in the future.”

“Of course, sir!”

“aw, come now boss, it’s not like you can't afford another anyway. ’s no reason to wine about this one. i personally thought it was a grape pun.”

“SANS!”

SNRKKK!

The room falls quiet as the three pause their little moment to look over you. You face may be hidden, but the escaping sounds of your giggles pours into the room like a rich sweet lemonade. It's airy and warm, like a finely tuned violin within an grand orchestra. You can't handle this bunch. Sans grin could not beam wider, even Papyrus was struggling not to smile; laughter is a contagious disease afterall. Although, Gaster must have been immunized, as he seems to be immune to such tomfoolery. Instead he just huffs off to the sink to use a wet cloth to wash away any remnants of the wine around his mouth. You sit up at last and take the fruit Sans offers to you, whatever tension was in the air before has dissipated. Your stomach growls hungrily as you bite into the apple, savoring the sweet juices. Well, better than eating floor spaghetti.

“Well, boys, now that these early morning shenanigans are ending, I believe it is time for the blasters’ training.”

Gaster more orders than comments, Papyrus and Sans nodding as they jump to their feet. You stare over at them, tilting your head in confusion. Blaster… training? They leave wordlessly as Gaster stops by the exit, “Well, aren’t you coming?” Wait, you were invited? You shift down off the stool, making sure that the backside is still fully inclosed. You snatch another apple from the basket, happily munching as you follow the kingpin’s lead. You don’t see Papyrus and Sans anymore, so an uncomfortable chill shivers through you. You nearly run into the tall skeleton’s backside as he comes to a halt. You look around him as you spot a large black door amongst a barren wall. “Well, my dear, it’s time for you to see the pride of the compound.” Pride? You feel dizzy as dread flows through your veins. What could it be? A torture chamber? A laboratory? A graveyard?

Just what could be the famed Underground Mafia be hiding in the depths of it’s roost?

The sound of a creaking door draws your attention back to reality, a blinding light pouring into the hallway. You step back as you shield your eyes, now only able to see the silhouette of Gaster’s form. A hand rests on your shoulder, it’s heavy and demanding as it pushes you forward into the bright abyss. You close your eyes, awaiting the cold grasp of death to swipe its… claws... wait… what? This feeling. This atmosphere… It’s welcoming and warm, like an embrace from a motherly figure. There’s shuffling before you and your pulled forward into the light, Gaster leading the way. You rub your eyes and feel your muscles relax, did you just walk into summer? Your hands fall to your sides as your jaw follows suit, eyes wide with wonder.

It’s…

Beautiful.

“This is my pride of the compound, welcome to the only treat of tranquility we house here.”

Gaster speaks boldly behind you as you walk forward, the soft grass tickling the naked soles of your feet. It’s a secret garden; flora of all types growing through out this hidden paradise. It’s roughly half the size of an average soccer field; you could run one end to the other in just under two minutes if you pushed yourself. The walls nearly touch the heavens, the reach that high. As they must, since many trees adorn this garden’s home. You can see Sans just ahead, leaning against a willow tree. Looking up, you can see glass windows as a ceiling, natural light pouring down to treat the beautiful flowers around you. You step forward more, the illuminating green essence surrounding your every step. You glance back behind you, only to see Gaster standing there no more. Where had he gone? No matter, for now, this haven you were in can distract you from your current situation. Kneeling down, you sit on a rock; pleased to feel it’s slightly warm touch on your chilled backside. Arching your brow, you look over the array of bright flowers across the internal field. If this is where you would be able to visit, perhaps staying here wouldn't be too terrible for the time being. Looking down at your feet, you brush away seeds that had decided to hitch a ride. They are sticky to the touch.

“Nyeh! Brother wake up, they shall arrive in just a moment!”

You can hear Papyrus call from somewhere in the area. You glance up to see Sans stretching as he leaves his little napping spot. Wait, he had seriously been asleep? He has only just gotten there! You pull your legs under you as you watch unsure of what to expect. You see Papyrus jog up to his brother from somewhere off to the side, an area hidden by dense foliage. There's the sound of mechanical grinding and the sound of something locking into place. Were those… the blaster things they had mentioned? Blasters, they said, for training? The only imagine which flies through your mind is the image of weapons and ammunition. No, that couldn't be. Monsters don't use those human style of tools. Monsters have always been known to use their magic; something that doesn't require reloading time and replenishment of resources. Right? Well… to be honest, your knowledge of magic is quite limited. During your time at Grillby’s the past half year, you never brought up such a serious topic as to the power of monsters. You were always work and some play, focused completely on repaying Grillby for his kindness. You had witnessed some use of magic over your time there though, monsters use their magic to do silly things or just when it comes naturally. They don't have to command it at will.

It's all by instinct.

“These creatures, they are my second prize possessions.”

Your body jumps as you snap your neck around to see Gaster standing behind you like an ever watchful statue. He’s dressed differently now; simple black slacks and a high collared white turtleneck. He looks sharp, just like his distant gaze. Creatures? Wha-wait, he’s not talking about those creatures, is he? You hear chatter from afar and turn back; well damn, it’s the skull pack you met before. You perk up as you watch the larger one’s file in before the brothers. Papyrus is standing boldly, Sans standing idly beside him. You can see Alpha and Beta; they are indeed the largest among the… blasters was it? You look up towards Gaster, whose standing to your direct right. “You called them… Blasters?” You ask curiously and you see his dark orbs glance down to you. “Why yes, my Blasters are creatures of the void. Creations of my research and my passion; power incarnate…” He trails off as he sees the worry in your eyes. You shouldn’t tell him of your misadventure with them, should you? He snickers as he crosses his arms, watching the brothers as they command and order the blasters through routine morning excersises.

“You have nothing to worry about though...” He speaks again as you pull your attention away from the display yards away. In a flash and flicker of magic, you find yourself pinned against the larger rock formation behind you; the air nearly knocked from your lungs. f*ck, that hurt! You gasp and struggle, but the phantom hands have made their entrance. “...but you know that already, don’t you?” You can not move, tiny beads of sweat form on your forehead. Wait, he knew about...? How? The boss saunters up before you, his face a mixture of emotions. Conflicted, yet enticed. Angry, yet pleased. Just what is going on within his mind? You watch as Gaster lowers himself to face you, his facade just a breath away from yours. His eyes; the glowing dim orbs of light, stare deep into yours. Hypnotic. You feel like you are falling, dizzied as you stare back into the dark chasms of his skull.

He presses a palm betwixt your breast, right against sternum.

“This time…”

You grunt as he pulls your soul free from within you.

“...I want to see it in person.”

Silence fills the air between you, your eyes focusing on the pulsating glow hovering above his gloved palms. You feel tears bite at your eyes, your throat slowly locking up as you gaze upon it. You feel fraile and empty without your soul, it reminds you of how a wave of disappointment feels when it wash over you. “G-Give it back, please… Mister Gaster?” You look up at him with pity filled eyes, but he does not respond. His orbs are focused heavily as he examines your soul. His stare is hard, concentrated, and cold. So cold. No determination fills your soul; nor bravery, courage, or any other known characteristic within the human-kind emotional spectrum taints it. It’s so pure, so pure that it can’t… it can’t be natural. His eyes shift off to somewhere behind you, and due to being pinned, you can not follow his gaze.

They are watching.

You don't know this…

But Gaster does.

They always seem to know what he does not, and that is why they-

“Nyeh?! Calm down!”

“woah, guys ‘s okay, hold up!”

GGRRRRAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!

NNNNNHHHHHHSSSSSKKKKK!!!

“What the hell is going on over there?!”

It all happens so fast.

The creatures, the Blasters; the whole mob of them come storming in your direction. Alpha and Beta lead the pack, their bellowing calls encouraging the others forward. Fangs are bared, ravenous growls vibrating the air. Gaster steps back, eye sockets wide with confusion. What had set them off? Were they being attacked? What had the sensed that they could not see? Why were they headed towards… oh no. In a moment too late, the creatures have surrounded the skeleton scientist holding your soul. Alpha and Beta hover on either side of him, snapping angrily towards him. You shiver and withhold a yelp as you see your soul in possible danger. Wait, aren’t these… his creations? “What in the world are you thinking? You belong to me. Go back to Sans and Papyrus for your train-!” Alpha dashes forward, jaw snapping at Gaster’s arm. Your eyes widen as you see Gaster jolt back with trained precision, beads of sweat dripping visibly down his skull.

Something isn't right.

The phantasmic hands dissipate and you are free from your temporary bindings. Scrambling forward, you quickly stand back, away from the chaos. Soft chirps at your side startle you, only to find its Omega and Psi looking up at you; the little ones from the basem*nt. They weren't going to attack you now, were they? As if sensing your fear of them, Omega let's out a despairingly loud cry. Alpha’s attention turns to you, and it growls in your direction upon making eye contact with you. No. Wait. It's…

Purring?

It's eyes are soft and it seems to relax a fraction. Beta whines loudly and as you turn, you see Gaster lower his hand. Did he-? He did, he struck Beta! Papyrus comes rushing up, jogging while shouting for everyone to remain calm. He’s very fast for a monster with no muscle. His brother, who you could have swore was standing beside him just moments ago, Sans is just…

Gone.

“You foolish creatures! Do not dare turn against your master!”

Gaster orders for their retreat, but upon striking Beta, he lost Alpha’s will and trust. It bellows and rushes forward, aiming for it's creator's head. You gasp and cover your mouth, not wanting to draw attention to you. Gaster dodges with ease, a pulsation of mauve magic arising from his body like waves of heat. The other blasters scatter back, Beta’s sharp hiss insuring those it leads stays out of harm's way. Omega tugs at your sleeve, but you do not move. In the center of all this remains your soul, within Gaster’s grasp. You feel nudging at your side, Omega begging you to fall back as well. You refuse, instead stepping forward. You were not leaving.

Not without your soul.

“1.0.0.1.Alpha! Fall back now!”

Papyrus is crying out, he has never seen such a sight. Alpha does not listen, waving to and fro as it dodges wave after wave of bones. Gaster, is well, pissed would put it lately. You step forward as you see Beta hovering up behind him; predator stalking its prey. Should, should you say something? He is holding your soul hostage after all, what if you were to fall into the cross-

Beta’s eyes grow wide, it’s glowing orbs shining brightly as they white out.

It’s maw opens wide.

Gaster’s back is turned.

The world slows.

Your feet pound against the grass as you dart forward.

What are you even doing? What can you even do?

“NYEH? HUMAN?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

You skid behind the tall skeleton, throwing your arms out wide.

Beta’s snarling intensifies, the powerful magic growing.

It’s gone mad.

“What on earth?!” Gaster turns about after pushing back Alpha with a wave of dark magic. He feels his soul pound in his chest, sockets wide. Never in his life had he imagined for something like this to happen! His own experiments turning against him so suddenly, without cause!

“Beta! Please stop!”

He hadn’t even noticed you before him… and now…

It’s too late.

Beta lets out one final roar, releasing its power down upon the two of you. Without your soul, you are weak. You scream, but nothing escapes your throat. Your arms tremble, waiting for death's hand to take it's hold. Will your soul shatter? Shall it’s green shards blend into the field below? At least a place like this… where you are to die… would be pleasant. An familiar overwhelming light pours over you, there's the heat you remember. It’s blinding and you step back to shield your eyes. To your horror, you do not run into Gaster. Had… he fled!? You feel nauseous. The world collapses around you, pulling you into a dark abyss.

For a moment, there is a calm.

For a moment, there is a silence.

A hand rests on your shoulder.

Death’s hand.

It’s heavy and demanding as it pushes you forward into the bright abyss.

You close your eyes, awaiting the cold grasp of death to swipe its… claws...

Wait.

This feeling. This atmosphere… What’s going on? There’s shuffling before you and your pulled forward into the light, a figure leading the way. You rub your eyes and feel your muscles strain, a shiver passing over you. Your hands fall to your sides as your jaw follows suit, eyes wide with... confusion.

It’s…

The secret garden.

“This is my pride of the compound, welcome to the only treat of tranquility we house here.”

Gaster speaks behind you as you walk forward, the soft grass tickling the naked soles of your feet. It’s the secret garden; flora of all types growing through out this hidden paradise. The hidden paradise… you’ve already discovered. What is going on? The walls still nearly touch the heavens, the reach that high. You can see Sans just ahead, standing beside a willow tree. He doesn’t… he doesn’t look all too well. Looking up, you can see glass windows as a ceiling, natural light pouring down to treat the beautiful flowers around you. You step back and turn around, catching a glimpse of darkness pooling on the ground. Gaster is no longer standing there, just like before. This haven you are in can no longer distract you from your current situation.

W-What... is going on?!

Kneeling down, you sit on a rock; begrudgingly feeling it’s slightly warm touch on your sweating backside. Your heart pounds in your chest. You look over the array of bright flowers across the internal field. Looking down at your feet, yes, there are those seeds. You brush away seeds with shaking hands. They are sticky to the touch.

“Brother!? Look sharp! The blasters shall arrive in just a moment!”

You can hear Papyrus call from somewhere in the area. You glance up to see Sans looking over in your direction. Not at you, rather behind you. You whip around, your stomach churning from the speed. Your eyes scale the wall, there’s a single stain glass window amongst the pale facade of the stone. A dark curtain falls with a flutter, disallowing you from seeing the glass’s artistic beauty. Not that this art mattered now, someone has been watching.

Were they always watching?

You pull your legs under you as you watch, sure of what to expect. You see Papyrus jog up to his brother from somewhere off to the side, an area hidden by dense foliage. The same as before. There's the sound of mechanical grinding and the sound of something locking into place. It’s the Blasters. The skull creatures from before, from in the basem*nt. Alpha, Beta, little Omega and the rest of the pack. They are coming to train.

You know all of this.

“These creatures, they are my second prize possessions.”

You turn around to see Gaster standing behind you. He’s dressed… in a simple black slacks and a high collared white turtleneck. The same. He looks sharp, just like his distant gaze. You hear chatter from afar and turn back; it’s the skull pack you met. Again. You stare as you watch the larger one’s file in before the brothers. Papyrus is standing boldly, Sans standing idly beside him. You can see Alpha and Beta, they are calm. You look up towards Gaster, whose standing to your direct right.

“They are called Blasters”

A statement. Your statement.

His dark orbs glance down to you. “Why yes, my Blasters are creatures of the void. Creations of my research and my passion; power incarnate…” He trails off as he sees the look in your eyes. Befuddlement. Of course a simple human would not understand. He snickers as he crosses his arms, watching the brothers as they command and order the blasters through routine morning excersises.

“You have nothing to worry about though...”

Yes, you do.

He speaks again as you pull your attention away from your internal thoughts. In a flash and flicker of magic, you find yourself pinned against the larger rock formation behind you; the air nearly knocked from your lungs. At least this time you braced yourself. You do not move, the phantom hands appear. Again.

“...but you know that already, don’t you?”

You do not move, tiny beads of sweat form on your forehead. This is all repeating. How? Why? The boss saunters up before you, his face a mixture of emotions. Conflicted, yet enticed. Angry, yet pleased. Had he caused all of this to repeat? Just how powerful is he? You watch as Gaster lowers himself to face you, his facade just a breath away from yours. His eyes; the glowing dim orbs of light, stare deep into yours. You turn your head away, closing your eyes tight. God, you feel sick.

He presses a palm betwixt your breast, right against sternum.

“This time…”

Not again!

You grunt as he pulls your soul free from within you.

“...I want to see it in person.”

Silence fills the air between you, your eyes focusing on the pulsating glow hovering above his gloved palms. You feel tears bite at your eyes, your throat slowly locking up as you gaze upon it. You feel fraile and empty without your soul, yet...

“Give it back, Gaster!”

You demand, looking up at him with fiery eyes, he actually seems surprised. His orbs turn away to focus heavily as he examines your soul. His stare is hard, concentrated, and cold. No determination fills your soul; nor bravery, courage, or any other known characteristic within the human-kind emotional spectrum taints it. It’s so pure, so pure that it can’t… it can’t be natural. His eyes shift off to somewhere behind you, and due to being pinned, you can not follow his gaze.

They are watching.

Gaster knows this.

You know this.

“Nyeh?! Calm down!”

“woah, guys ‘s okay, hold up!”

GGRRRRAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!

NNNNNHHHHHHSSSSSKKKKK!!!

“What the hell is going on over there?!”

It all happens so fast.

Again.

The Blasters charge in your direction. Alpha and Beta lead the pack, their bellowing calls encouraging the others forward. Fangs are bared, ravenous growls vibrating the air. Gaster steps back, eye sockets wide with confusion. What had set them off? Were they being attacked? What had the sensed that they could not see? Why were they headed towards… oh no. In a moment too late, the creatures have surrounded the skeleton scientist holding your soul. Alpha and Beta hover on either side of him, snapping angrily towards him. You shiver and withhold a yelp as you see your soul in possible danger. Wait, aren’t these… his creations? “What in the world are you thinking? You belong to me. Go back to Sans and Papyrus for your train-!” Alpha dashes forward, jaw snapping at Gaster’s arm. Your eyes widen as you see Gaster jolt back with trained precision, beads of sweat dripping visibly down his skull.

This isn't right.

The phantasmic hands dissipate and you are free from your temporary bindings. Scrambling forward, you quickly stand back, away from the chaos. Soft chirps at your side reassure you, it's Omega and Psi looking up at you. They weren't going to attack you. You do not fear them, not this time. Omega let's out a soft cry. Alpha’s attention remains focused on Gaster. You reach your hand out, softly stroking them on their heads.

Maybe… this time could be different?

Beta whines loudly and as you turn, you see Gaster lower his hand. He struck Beta! f*ck, what happened next? You freeze in place. f*ck! What had happened next?! Papyrus comes rushing up, jogging while shouting for everyone to remain calm. He’s very fast for a monster with no muscle. His brother, who you could have swore was standing beside him just moments ago across the field, Sans is just…

Standing still.

Watching.

“You foolish creatures! Do not dare turn against your master!”

Gaster orders for their retreat, but upon striking Beta, he lost Alpha’s will and trust. It bellows and rushes forward, aiming for it's creator's head. Gaster dodges with ease, a pulsation of mauve magic arising from his body like waves of heat. The other blasters scatter back, Beta’s sharp hiss insuring those it leads stays out of harm's way. Omega tugs at your sleeve, but you do not move. In the center of all this remains your soul, within Gaster’s grasp. You feel nudging at your side, Omega begging you to fall back as well. You refuse, instead stepping forward. You were not leaving.

Not without your soul.

“1.0.0.1.Alpha! Fall back now!”

Papyrus is crying out, he has never seen such a sight. Alpha does not listen, waving to and fro as it dodges wave after wave of bones. Gaster, is well, pissed would put it lately. You step forward as you see Beta hovering up behind him; predator stalking its prey. You need to do something. This maybe your only chance. This must have been a fluke. A mistake. A dream! You are not going to squander it!

Your feet having you moving at incredible speed, pounding against the grass as you dart forward.

Beta’s eyes grow wide, it’s glowing orbs shining brightly as they white out.

You skid behind the tall skeleton, throwing your arms out wide.

“NYEH? HUMAN?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“What on earth?!”

Gaster turns about after pushing back Alpha with a wave of dark magic. He feels his soul pound in his chest, sockets wide. Never in his life had he imagined for something like this to happen, his own experiments turning against him so suddenly; without cause!

Beta’s maw opens wide.

It’s snarling intensifies, the powerful magic growing.

It’s gone mad.

“That's enough!”

Your soul pulsates and shimmersinGaster'shold.

He hadn’t even noticed you before him and now…

It’s not too late!

...

...

...

...

File Saved

Chapter 16: A Different Side of Things, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“Well, well, aren’t you up a bit early, honey?”

A child; no, a woman, sits up with leering eyes as she averts her attention from the file she'd be memorizing. “Empress, I told you not to call me that...” A hand waves in front of her face, blowing her off. “Pshhh, no, no, my little darling. You’ll forever be my little sweetie, ever since the day Majesty introduced you to us. Ohhhh…” Empress trails off dramatically; sitting down at the table, glass of wine in hand. Isn’t it early to be hitting the red? It’s just about seven now, the sun has barely kissed the sky this early winter morn. “It’s been what, three years? Yes, three years now since our little family came together. Back when it was just Baron, Czar, and moi; it was so lonely, all three of us together.” She sips her glass, her radiant lips staining the rim as she retreats. “Then Monny joined, with you in tow! Oh little Celeste, you were much shorter back then. You’ve had a growth spurt no doubt, your body has began to mature into a lovely... flower...”

A dark look crosses over Empresses face, Celeste lowers her gaze.

A chair squeaks against the wooden floor, a body presses into her arm.

“What a lovely flower indeed…”

A hand softly traces over her dark hair, looming over the ribbon tied neatly above her bangs.

“How much…”

Empress’s breath hisses against Celeste’s ear, causing the color to slowly draining away from soft face.

Ignore her.

“How much I would love…”

Ignore it.

The hand grips her dark locks, yanking her head back with a sharp yelp.

“T O B R E A K I T.”

Still just a child.

“Empress!”

Within seconds Celeste is snatched away from her chair, pulled into the protective of grasp of Baron. Slinking back, Empress’s wide eyes tremble at Baron’s appearance. Celeste stays quiet, not making eye contact with either. Her quivering hands grip into Baron’s off-white wife beater, a defensive arm wrapped around her shoulders. “f*ck off now ‘Pressy, go down to Monarch and take your goddamn meds.” Baron demands, he is not playing around. There’s a second of quiet, a lull of tension straining the air. Empress hesitates, an odd look crossing her model-esque face; a mix of anger and confusion. She’s just having one of her…

Moments.

“NOW!”

Turning on high heels, she disappears down the darkened hall.

Baron snarls in disgust and then glances down, eyes softening at Celeste’s numb figure. Her face baring no form of emotion, she’s like a marble statue with her dainty pale skin. He gives her a quick hug, then guides her back to her seat. Her eyes lack all luster, dimmed into a dark shade of her usual robin blues. Poor kid, you’d think she would be used to it by now. Baron opens the fridge, pulling out some eggs and bacon. With the sh*t he had to do today, best to pack on the protein. The sound of papers rustling about confirms that Celeste is returning to her work, good for her. She deserves her title after how long she's been a core member and with just how much she cares for them. Despite her age, she’s always treated them like she was the mother, always proving herself to be useful. Neither speak as they go about their business, that is, until Celeste’s softly spoken voice cracks the air with a rather simple question.

“Why does she do that?”

The egg cracks harshly against the side of the pan; well, so much for no shell. Baron sighs, picking into the egg mush to pull out the little bits of hard white. There are few things he feels uncomfortable about talking about, this topic is one of them. “Well, you know how she gets. She's not; ugh, gross feels like snot,” He flicks a piece into the sink. “She's not… how can I put this, stable? The f*ckin’ nerd does his best, and for the longest... she was good.” He turns away from her, throwing the bacon in alongside the eggs in a hastily made scramble.”Ya’know, she just gets um…” He hesitates, putting together his words as he scrapes the pan with a spatula. Stupid eggs sticking to the bottom, should have used butter.

“Jealous?”

Celeste speaks absentmindedly and turns a page on the file, looking at the black and white photographs. Baron pauses, giving her a soft nod. “Heh, yeah, you could say that.” He places thehastily cooked meal onto a plate and leaves his used cookware behind. Naturally, she gets up to wash them nearly instantaneously. He chuckles under his breath as he passes her, Celeste rolling her eyes in response. He left them on purpose, just to mess with her. He sits down with a huff, kicking up his boots onto an adjacent dining chair as he begins to dine. “Kiddo, you just don't know how it was before Monarch started helpin’ ‘Pressy. Believe me, I might not like the f*ck, but he's done some good for her.” He takes moment to tear into a slice of bacon, chewing into the thin slice of meat.

“You'll learn some day, maybe after you finish getting your title.”

She grits her teeth as she grabs the sponge. The water roars to life in the sink and she dips the cooling pan into the pool. She's heard this before; whether it's Baron or Monarch, different answers with the same conclusion. They hide the truth, she's too young to understand the truth. She's not a child, in her eyes at least. She has a LV of 6 now, she's done her fair share of monster dusting. Take it slow; they always scold her, bullsh*t! This life isn't about being slow to make your move. Not acting on impulse will get you destroyed in this world! Monsters think too much in combat, that's what gets them killed!

“Ya’know, scrub that any harder and there ain't going to be a pan left.”

She jolts, dropping the pan into the sink. Ugh, now her dress is wet. “Celeste, just worry about your mission this afternoon. Did you decide how you're gonna get there?” Heavy boots click against the ground and a dirty plate comes into view. She quickly snatches it, working quickly to clean off any remaining breakfast scraps. “Y-Yes, I will take the trolley down and walk the last bit myself. It's less suspicious than having one of your boys drive me there.” He nods, patting her on the shoulder. “Yeah, not a bad idea half-pint. I'll have the boys scope the nearby area so that if they see the signal they'll hightail their asses over to ya. You got your weapon?” He states, leaning his hip against the counter as he watches.

She nods, smiling up at him as she gestures downwards. “It's never not on me. It's the only thing Majesty has ever gifted me after all. It's not sharp, but it's perfect, just for me!” She smiled as she thought back on her single prized possession. She's never questioned it before, but thinking back on it, how did they know she would be such an expert with it? Monarch never mentioned anything to them about her previous life as an orphan on the streets, yet, Majesty knew what best fit for her style of fighting. Not that she minds, as long as she has some form of defense is better than none. It's still mostly just for training, but she's used it plenty of times by now to know it can be a deadly weapon of choice.

“Huh, maybe once you get your title, I'll get you a real weapon. Something as nice as good old Vacío here! Never misses a shot!”

He pats his holster proudly, he's never without his weapon either.

Celeste chuckles to herself while drying her hands.

“That's if you remember to reload it.”

“Ey, no sassin’! I know exactly how many bullets fit into its chambers. Like, uh, seven. Or is it nine? Yeah, nine shots just dust the sh*t out of those f*ckers!”

Sigh... Oh Baron.

“Six. It holds six bullets at a time. This is why you get in trouble with Czar!”

“Oh, shut the f*ck up. Just, ugh, just go get ready.”

She smiles as she dashes away down the hall, her bare feet skittering against the hard ground. Shaking his head, Baron picks up the folder she left behind to chase her down. Always the restless girl, always doing without thinking. He glances down at the notes, flipping through the pictures as he walks. This is day one of a two part mission; nothing too terribly hard for Celeste to conquer. Reconnaissance has always been a strength of hers; pulling her cute little girl shtick has really come in handy. Today she is to scope the area, tomorrow the true fun begins. He steps around the corner, only to find Celeste paused by a door. Her eyes are unfocused as she stands still and oh so quiet.

“‘Ey kid, think ya forgot some-”

He pauses mid wave of the folder upon standing next to her. Oh? There’s screaming and shouting, sounds of glass shards scattering against solid ground. An arm rises and rests on the handle of the door. “No, don’t worry about it.” His voice is soft and dreadfully calm as he covers her hand with his own, forcing her to retract her grasp. Her blues travel up to meet his heated ambers, yet she remains standing in her place. “Heh, Monarch prob’ just needs to up her doses.” His hand grips her shoulder tightly, forcing her arm muscles to weaken. Unwillingly, she pulls back and follows his lead to the barracks.

She trusts Monarch, he's a very kind man.

“Ruin one more of my experiments and I'll slit that beautiful throat of yours Empress.”

Just never threaten his research.

“Then pay attention to me! I-I need another dose. I, I don’t… I don't feel like me!”

She struggles against his hold, stomping her heels into the ground with furry. Monarch remains stilled, his feet out of harm’s range. She just had to be like this, so childish. Arms pinned above her head, Monarch hisses under his breath. Blasted woman, smashed three projects he'd been in the process of finishing. “I told you if you took your doses too often, you would start to build an immunity to its original strength. Don't think I didn't notice that you were sneaking treatments in between sessions.”

Not that he stopped her either, but, semantics.

Her ocean blues twinkle with guilt as she drops her gaze to the ground. “Y-You just don't get it Monarch… I need it. The rush, the feeling…” Monarch presses his forehead against the chilled wall, his chin resting just above her beautiful flowing mane. Even with her pinprick heels, he still quite towers over her. She can be a true pain in the ass at times. She whimpers and struggles, knees feeling weak as she continues to break down. Monarch grumbles to himself as tightens his grip against her wrist. She whines as she lightly claws at his hold with her exaggerated fake nails.

“Monny, please, Monny, make me feel like a woma-”

His lips lock onto hers.

He presses his body into hers, chest ramming into breast. She chokes back a sob as she falls into the kiss. It melts into her core, a burning passion welling into the pit of her stomach as it travels south. She groans as his other hand travels up her dress, roughly grasping at her lovely beauties shielded by satin dark fabric. Fondling them roughly, she whimpers while his groan vibrates her plump lips. She doesn't feel the pleasure, god how she wishes to feel his touch properly. A warmth barges through her red seal, permeating his violent tongue to lash against her own. Saliva trails down their chins during this primal arrangement of lust. His hand falls from her front, falling to the hem of her short dress. She coos into his mouth as her hips buck involuntarily, thrusting forward seeking attention. Following her lead, his hand traces down her front, stopping at her lower region. Their heated dance comes to an end with a transparent web branching their lips.

“M-Monny… I… Please don’t look.”

His grip tightens.

“If I am to help you, at the very least I am allowed to look. You can look away, as always.”

His palm presses against her and she groans, tears appearing at the corner of her eyes.

No, it’s too good to ignore.

“F-Fine, just do it.”

His stare turns stoic as he watches his hand make contact underneath her dress, palming the heated warmth. She groans and throws back her head, tongue lolling out. Excellent, she’s sensitive, just how long has she gone between relieving herself. Well, that’s for him to find out. He leans into her, closing his eyes as he softly strokes against her skin, a dampness starting to coat itself around his palm with each stroke. Her hips follow along with every assaulting maneuver against her sex. How he has missed this touch, this intimate moment between their two bodies. He slides his fingers along the silk of her hidden fabric, tugging it down slowly, with only a hint of struggle.

“M-Monny, d-don’t-”

“Shut up.”

The fabric gives away and falls to the ground, revealing her past. Upon releasing her wrists, she instantaneously covers her lower region with a hazy glare. He stands back to look down upon her broken form. A frown dresses his lips, new scars can not hide behind her guilty gaze. Stepping forward, he nudges her hands away. If not for it being Monarch, her hands would have remained. Her hidden secret between her legs is waiting, wanting for Monarch’s further touch. It’s just as beautiful as he had remembered.

“D-Don’t-”

A hand covers her mouth, pressing his palm to silence her.

“Ah, ah, what did I just say?”

His free hand wanders back down, palming against her once more. She groans and thrusts forward, a pulsation of pleasure thrilling her every nerve. Her own hands come up to the wrist silencing her, she uses it as an anchor. Her knees shake as he continues to increase his pace. Her nose flares as she silently grunts, the pressure building heavily within her belly. It’s been so long. Tears stream down her eyes as her back arches, god, he was driving her mad with every stroke of his touch.

Both hands pull away.

“Ngahh! M-Monny! Wh-”

He stands back, sitting down at his chair by the desk of broken research. She falls to her knees, only partially willingly, and crawls forward despite the glass. Luckily she’s able to avoid any damage to her beautiful legs.

“You won’t learn a lesson if I let you go that easy.”

“I-It’s not, it’s not like you finish any of them anyway.”

He snarls under his breath; it’s not that she’s wrong, he just never finds time to finish one to completion. At least, that’s what he tells himself. His thoughts are ripped apart as his head falls back. She smirks and glides her nails against the fabric of his long white coat. Even through the thick protective whites of his work cloths, the slight vibration of her nails still sends a thrill to his own core. She works deftly to part the lower section of his jacket, opening the fly of his black slacks. Adjusting his glasses, he glances down as she begins to hungrily work against his own throbbing secret. Her tongue lashes against his head, earning a pleased moan to echo from his chest.

“Ah, f*ck… that’s… ngh!”

He thrusts forward into her hold, she moans as she slides her tongue along the base. His taste, it’s an odd mixture of metallic and salt. Leaning forward, she takes him within her mouth. Suckling, she closes her eyes, her fingers taking hold of his thighs for support. His heated breath falls from his lips, his grip against the chair tightening. Her lips grow paler with each suckling motion, and this couldn't make Monarch more pleased. Perfect, her makeup is wearing more and more away, revealing the truth behind her every day mask. He lowers a shaky hand to wrap itself amongst her soft locks. He takes control, using her mouth for his enjoyment, ignoring her choked pleads for something in return.

Fine, if she wanted something in return, it’s going to be on his terms.

His foot slides forward, snaking itself between her legs. Her eyes snap open as she groans around his co*ck, sending delicious sensations throughout him. His smirk turns dark as his foot kicks upwards, causing her to squeal in surprise. Her eyes narrow up at him, but a quick tug of her hair has her returning to his command. The wetness gushes around her lips with every thrust into her mouth, saliva leaving a lewd trail down her chin.

“Hah, f*ck. Just like that. Ah!”

Each consecutive gyration of his hips sheaths himself further within her wet passage. She tightens her hold of her lips, the movement of his foot against her too great. She can feel as the vile juices leak out of her, coating the tip of his shoe in a glistening fluid. The coil burns within her, begging for release. She's so close, just a little more, if only Monny could say her name. Say anything, just to send her over the final wall of climax.

“F-f*ck, yes! I’m, haah, feels so good Co-!”

Her feral growl cuts off his speech as he realizes his near mistake. Her teeth bare themselves as her bobbing goes rigid. sh*t, he knows he f*cked up. Never say the wrong sh*t when a girl’s pearly whites are a snap away from your lower friend. His grip falls limp and he slides back, his still hard length falling from betwixt her lips. He releases her and she pulls back her head; her face scowling at him, but her eyes reflect a different emotion.

Hurt.

“Why do you still think of him!”

Monarch stare lingers, hidden behind the sheen of his lenses. His eyes shift away and his voice drops low under a mess of panting.

“...Does it matter?”

She pauses and turns her head away.

“It’s just… that’s… it’s not m-eaah!”

His shoes connects with her groin, applying pressure at just the right angle. The slapping wet noises cause her cheeks to flush harder, her guilty eyes glancing away. He uses his other foot to propel the chair closer, sliding the top of his foot along the underside of her nethers. She hisses and trembles, beads of sweat sliding down her forehead. A guilty pleasure, quite literally, as she moans under her breath. She lowers herself onto the leather, aligning herself as to not accidentally get hurt. Clinging onto his leg, she feels his foot slowly bounce her, earning a fastening pant to fall from her chest. She can barely hear his voice as shock waves of passion wash over her, dizziness welcoming and fogging her mind.

“Just shut up and let me care for you, the way I want to. I need to get back to work.”

“Fah-! Fine! J-Just, ah, do it.”

Her hips move on their own as she struggles to maintain her own senses. Monarch leans into the arm of his chair, resting his chin on the back side of his hand. His eyes do not rest upon the enlarged bosom before him, watching as they bounce with every determined thrust of her hips. Rather, they fall to her partially hidden sex, watching as it peeks out from beneath her dress. His other hand rest upon himself, roughly stroking in sync with her spiraling display. His eyes shut tight as his pace increases, his mind travelling to a time long ago. Surging his pace, he feels Empress do the same in return. He stops suddenly, leaning forward to pull her dress up to her chin. He needs more of a show if he was to continue.

“Bite down on this.”

His demand.

She obeys.

Her jaw slackens as he offers the edge of her silken black nightgown. She bites down, quivering as she looks down. Not only do her perky breast come out for the world to see, but it’s out in the open. She can no longer deny it’s existence. It’s dripping… throbbing... between her thighs, resting along the arch of his foot. Begging for a touch that she herself could never allow herself to do. A thinning stream of her own honey flows freely from the slit. The foot beneath her shifts, the sole pressing up against the base.

“Monny, d-don’t-”

“Take long? It won’t, I can see it in your eyes. You're so close, it’s just waiting for me.”

“Please just touch it, make me cum. Please Monny, touch that thing.”

Not her thing, that thing.

It's just a part of her that she wanted gone, but could never part with.

Her secret.

Her true identity.

She, by birth, is male.

No matter the other alterations to her body, she is still partially him.

“As you wish.”

He begins rubbing the sheath, pressing the head into the pit of her abs with every shift movement. Too sensitive from the lack of her latest dose, she leans back on her arms as she gives in. Muffled by the dress, she moans as a quake of pleasure shoots from her core. Lacing his own fingers around his co*ck, he pumps with vigor as a wave of heat slices through him. It’s been so long, too long, since either of them reached true relief. Flowing onto his hand, his own clear residue coats his thickness. Hungrily, possibly driven mad by his slowing distracted pace, she reaches forward to press the shoe’s base harder into her despised organ. She arches forward, her breaths but a shudder within her chest. Her thrusts turn sloppy, her inflamed member taut between her lower abdomen and the leather of his footwear.

She screams his name, one final act as she falls over the edge.

It’s just enough to drive him to his breaking point in return.

They both writhe as fires flare out from their souls throughout every extremity they own. Since ushers in the laboratory, nothing but hindered breathes and the beeping of machines hard at work. She drops the dress hem from her mouth, bleary eyes closing as she rests her body against the scientist’s leg. He reaches forward, eyes closed, as he strokes her hair. There’s a moment of calm within the usually bustling lab, just a moment between two resting souls. She refuses to meet his gaze as he halts his stroking. She can not see it, but she can feel him shift as he reaches back to the heart of his desk. There’s a medley of sounds, of light clinking of metal and rustling of papers. He grunts as he moves about, his joints stiff from locking up during his experience. He looks down at the needle in his hand, the syringe a fang of the snake.

“You, you had a dose this whole time?”

Her voice is barely above a whisper.

“Of course, I wasn't going to just let you have it. I have to punish you in some form for breaking the rules…”

He trails off as she lies her arm across his lap. The damaged vein is quite a sight against skin so pure like snow. She doesn't make a fist, instead, she allows a sob to track through her. Okay, even he feels like he went a tad too far. The chilled swab of alcohol forces a hiss from her throat, yet her arm remains steady. Just another second, breathe, almost there. It's in his hand, it's in his hand, his hand. The needle lowers and makes contact, pushing through the tired skin with little force and Monny’s expertise. The invisible liquid enters her bloodstream. Her face contorts and she relaxes, Monarch’s special serum claws its way through every inch of her. She pauses all movement, focusing solely on her breathing. In and out, in and out. Just wait until it passes, and all will be better.

“Now then, I believe I am late for a meeting. Let’s get you to your room.”

He lowers his hand, only for it to be knocked away.

She stands slowly, be it shakily, narrowing her eyes as she glowers at the other man.

“My name… my title... is Empress.”

She turns away, readjusting her dress with spastic shakes hindering her speed; results of the org*sm and medicine.

“It is my only true name, Monarch, so please… forget him.”

He rubs his temples as the door clicks behind her, leaving him alone to his thoughts. Well, f*ck. He reclines back into his chair, turning it to face his desk. It’s not that he meant to say his name, just, sigh… He is gone, she is here. Permanently, as long as he continues to improve her doses. As long as he continues to counteract her body’s natural reactions, versus how she truly feels. To be honest, he knows he will never understand… and this frustrates this ever living hell out of him. He is a man of science and logic, he just needs more research and data to understand. He just doesn’t have time, there’s never enough time for all his projects to be completed.

Right?

Well, maybe.

Or perhaps he’s just burning out.

He glances at the clock, it’s about forty-five after six.

Right, the meeting, he's going to be late.

“So that is the title you have chosen?”

She nods with her red bow bouncing in unison.

“Complete this mission as required and we will give you your title. Do not disappoint us.”

She smiles and bows at the leaders before her. This is her chance to prove to Baron, Monarch, Empress, Majesty, and most importantly Czar, that she can be more useful than they allow her to. After years of training, years of waiting; it's her time to shine. Celeste beams up at the small group, missing a few of it’s core members, as she puffs out her chest and draws her weapon. Pointing it to the air, as she closes her eyes. With this weapon; gifted by Majesty themselves, she will complete her deed.

“I will not let you down!”

The others nod in affirmation and disperse, Baron catching the late Monarch on the way out. There's a split second of tension between the two, but with silent communication, they leave together. They both could go for a shot despite it being the early morning. Nearly fifteen minutes after seven, Czar sends Celeste off with a soft pat on the head. Bouncing on her feet, she darts from the room upon sheathing her weapon. Majesty rolls their eyes, leaning against the stage with their knife in hand. The Palace is barren during the day. No guest here to entertain. No stagehands dragging half unconscious bodies off of center stage. It’s so nice during the day, dare one even say, pleasant? To Majesty, though, it’s just dreadfully boring. They toss the knife into the air, catching it by the handle withhoned skill before it's falls. They could do this with their eyes closed, if it wasn’t for their twinge in there soul.

Looking at the wall, the clock reads seven seventeen.

Their chest pounds as they toss the blade.

Closing their eyes, a familiar wave of sensation washes of them.

They go to catch the blade, but there is no blade to catch.

“Oh, good morning Majesty, how are you today?”

It’s Celeste, followed by Baron, entering the meeting.

Again.

They do not respond, instead giving a quick wave.

Again.

Looking at the wall, the clock reads six fifty.

Again.

Their teeth grit, malice flashing within their ruby eyes.

Within their soul, they can feel it.

The determination flaring like a festering wound.

That bastard!

What caused Frisk to trigger a reload?

“Shall the meeting begin?”

Czar speaks out.

At times, Chara understands just how that "comedian" feels.

“Yes. Let’s begin.”

Again.

Chapter 17: ...

Chapter Text

...White...

...Green...

Black.

Darkness.

It’s sole occupant?

You.

You find yourself sitting in the barren darkness. At least it feels like you are, you can’t see anything. You can feel, but yet you can not. The air is horribly stagnant. No temperature or humidity, it’s terribly neutral. You call out, but your voice is soundless. Where the hell are you? You feel yourself moving forward, but it’s like walking through sludge. You call out again, no voice returns your call. Your mind feels clouded, like a hangover from hell. There’s a pressure in your head, a swirling confusing mixture of slop between your ears. You remember something, the blasters, was it? Beta had attacked Gaster, and you had dove in to save him.

Why the hell had you done that?

Your stupid kind-hearted dumbass probably got you killed.

Dear god, are you in purgatory?

Knock Knock

What the hell?

As clear as day, you can hear someone knocking.

“Greetings, ▓▒░▓▓!”

Who the hell is that man?

Why does it sound… like static?

“Oh, how fair thee O░he░?Hunting was pleasant, was it not?”

Someone to the right of you as well?

That’s… your voice?

No, it’s more mature, older sounding.

“Ye’know how am I.I fought the beast head on!"

"Never dodged a single swipe of my fist!”

There’s a flutter of laughter.

“Oh, of course.You are too brave for your own good, are you not?"

"I can see blood against your wrapped knuckles."

"Come here before you drip on my rugs.”

You feel your feet shifting, yet you do not move.

“Rest your tired limbs upon my table and relax."

"I have had some practice with the knight Jo▓qui▓!"

"I have better control now!”

Again, more static.

Who are these people?

“Psh, that man only hinders my hunts."

"He calls it justice when he arrests me, all for what?"

"Traveling into the monsters’ territories to search for our dinners?He is-!”

“HE is doing his work, as I am trying to do!Stop moving and relax!”

The man falls quiet, with a stubborn grunt.

There’s a swelling of power, of warmth on your hands.

Glancing down, you feel your throat lock up as you withdraw a gasp.

Green.

Magic.

“Ah, what a pleasant feeling. Your studies have proven worth it.”

“Well, unlike the rest of us,I am the only one with the strongest grasp of the defensive arts.”

There’s a momentary pause, the glowing gaining strength over time.

“Although, I am not entirely being truthful."

"I believe ▒eles▒e is developing her defensive arts quite well despite her age."

"Her magic glows such a beautiful color,it reminds me of the heavens above.”

Such fondness in the voice.

“Yes, yes, the squire."

"Co▒al▒ has been helping the young one along,as her magic is so similar to her own after all.”

What the hell are they talking about?

People? Humans? Magic?

The light dies from your hands.

You feel, but can not see, movement to your left.

“Now if only my magic dispelled the stains upon your gloves.”

“Never! These are marks of a true warrior!”

There’s a sigh.

From your lips.

You didn’t do that.

“At least change them out before the meeting with the other mages."

"Do not forget to retrieve Ma▒v▒ this time!”

“Ugh, you are going to make me go to the library, are you not?”

“Yes, now go."

"The sun will be directly overhead soon,be sure to dress in your robe."

"The one with the kingdom’s crest.”

There’s an odd pause and some shifting around.

“This will be the first meeting with the monsters’king and queen after all."

"We must do our kingdom proud.”

Monster... king and queen?

“Fine, fine, I shall be on my way."

"Take care for now and may the sun remain shining upon your day.”

“To yours as well, O░he░.”

Click.

It sounds like a door has closed.

There’s silence.

Alone once more.

Time passes, hours or perhaps just seconds.

You call out again, almost desperately, into the darkness.

“▓▒░▓▓!”

You jump, startled, at the sudden booming voice.

It’s deep, gruff, and demanding.

You find yourself walking forward, a towering presence before you.

Yet, you do not feel fear.

In fact, you feel quite... overjoyed?

A pulsation, deep within your chest, rattles you.

There’s a figure standing, looming before you.

Dear god, it height is mountainous compared to you.

“Ah, King A▓gor▓! What a pleasant day to see you!"

"My, my, it’s been months since our first meeting!How fair thee?”

You feel a heavy weight on your shoulder.

It’s comforting and welcoming.

“Ah yes, I am doing quite well young mage."

"Be it, I wish on better news do we gather.”

A wave a sadness washes over you.

“I, yes... I know."

"Unfortunate tidings are upon the horizon,are they not?”

There’s heavy foot fall.

A sound of shuffling fabric.

For a second, you are blinded by a flash of light.

“It’s a nice day out, is it not?”

His voice is so soft, it’s almost hard to hear him.

You feel yourself move closer, a warm presence in front of you.

It’s the sunset.

You can not see it, but you can feel it.

“Birds are singing…”

He sounds so heart broken.

“Flowers are blooming…”

He sighs.

You can almost feel his heavy breath brush the hair on your arms.

“On days like these…”

You feel your hand place upon something soft.

Your lips move out of your control, yet you yourself are soundless.

“...it would be a terrible day to start a war.”

The other voice speaks.

Your chest feels heavy as dampness caresses your cheeks.

Tears?

“Ah mage, my friend, is there no way toconvince our two kinds to live in peace?”

His hand, it completely covers over your own.

Are those… claws?

“I… I am afraid not.Those without magic fear your people."

"Even we mages find other humans fearing us as well,be it,nothing compared to your kind.”

The hand’s weight disappears and you retract your hand from against the nothingness.

You feel your steps fall back, a larger space between the two of you.

“Your kingdom’s council of mages and kingsgathered a few moons ago."

"Were you in attendance?”

Panic racks through you.

“You... you know of the meeting?”

The presence is before you once more.

This time...

A bellowing growl vibratesfrom the king.

“Do not take me for a fool!"

"I know war is closing in,and I will do anything to protect my people!"

"What was said, mage!”

His voice rattles the air.

You feel your chest pulsate, a familiar tug thrusting forward.

You can see it, within the darkness.

The beautiful emerald.

The pristine jade.

Your soul.

“For the good of my people, what was said!”

A burning power descends before you.

It’s magic staining the darkness with its vermilion aura.

CSHHHKKK

CLNKKKKK

A wall of viridescent power shrouds you before you have a moment to think.

“Retract thy trident your highness,you know my magic will not harm thou.”

CLNKKKKK

CSHHHKKK

CLNKKKKK

The magic…

Your soul…

Glow in unison.

“Not!”

CSHHHKKK

“Not-urff!”

The figure stumbles back.

Their height shortens, their towering stature dwindling.

All magic dissipates.

“...Not... if it means I can protect my people,I will do anything for them.”

You step forward, the figure’s head just at your bosom.

“King A▓gor▓…"

"Please, do not take knee before a mere human as I.”

You rest your hands upon broad shoulders, the cold tense metal surprising you.

Armor?

“I… I am tired. My wife, my queen, my everything…”

A shudder strikes through him, a sob choking out through his voice.

“I am just… so tired…”

“A▓gor▓…”

The name falls from your lips, the static afflicting your tender flesh.

It hurts.

He lowers his gaze and sniffles quietly.

“M-My friend, she… she carries a c-child. Our child!”

He pounds a fist into the ground.

The vibration terrifyingly close to your feet.

“One I wish to shower with our love in a peaceful world!”

Fist meets granite.

“One I wish to see grow within our kingdom!”

Granite once more.

“One I wish to raise happily with my wife!”

You place a hand on his cheek, a bristle of facial hair combing through your fingers.

It’s a beautiful golden mane, you can just tell.

“A▓gor▓ please,I am doing my best to convince the kingdom of the good of your kind."

"Please, hush now, let me tell you of their plans and concerns.”

The king shakily rises, his voice falling gentle once more.

“For my ▓ori, our child, my kingdom…"

"I will do anything for them.”

“Then please, follow me to my studies."

"We shall not be bothered there."

"The rune you taught me works quite well.”

You feel yourself moving in step with the shadow creature.

You halt before something.

A wave of your hand, an outline of a picture slowly reveals itself.

First,

Acircle.

Next,

It spreads its wings.

You finger taps three times against hard wood.

Tap,

Tap,

Tap.

Three triangles appear.

“The Delta Rune?”

You find yourself nodding.

“The symbol of protection among all of monster kind."

"No human ever thinks to use it.Thank you for teaching it to me."

"Keeps ▒eles▒e and C▒a▒a from entering my room at the early morn’.”

A pleasant laugh fills the air as the figure steps through the open door.

“Now, tell me. What knowledge have you gained?”

You don’t move.

You can’t.

You feel your body jolt forward, yet your feet remain cemented to the ground.

Darkness oozes forth from you, standing next to the shadow king himself.

They begin to speak, but you cannot hear.

They begin to fade away.

…

You reach out for them.

You don’t want to be alone!

…

Their words scatter into the darkness.

You can barely make them out.

…

“Now then…

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…letter…

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…mentioned…

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…barrier?”

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Do you notremember any of this?

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You must not forget!

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Seek the truth before the truth finds you!

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They will use you.

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They will help you.

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They will kill you.

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They will save you.

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Your path has yet to be chosen!

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Wake up and seek forth the answers!

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I will be waiting.

Chapter 18: Deja vu or Fuzzy Memories, Sometimes

Chapter Text

Why is it… so bright?

Your eyes flutter open, only to slam shut once more as blinding light floods through the window. Your head is pounding, your body aching, serious, did you just run a marathon? Your head feels murky and clouded, like a terrible fog has rolled in. You snuggle your face into the soft fabric under your chin. It smells nice, like fresh daisies in spring. You roll onto your back, arm flung over your face to further shield you from the bothersome sun. You… you were drinking last night, weren't you? Just another night with Grillby, eh? Probably embarrassed yourself again, no doubt. Speaking of which, where is the fireball? You can’t smell breakfast being made, maybe he dropped you off in your room? How sweet of him. Your right arm slowly worms out from under the cover, feeling around for your clock. God, with how bright it is, you probably have to start getting ready for your shift. The sun usually only shines into the window when it's around noon anyway.

Tap Tap

“EEEAAAAAAKKKKK!!!!”

You jolt up, screaming like a banshee who just stubbed its toe. Who the?! What the f*ck just touched you?! An innocent face looks up to you, a smile cracked on their lips. [Hiya] A child holds up a sign, decorated with little flowers around the side. “Um…” Your mind goes blank. Wait, this isn’t your room. It’s… it’s a kid’s room? The child before you, smiling brightly, you begin to recognize them. “It’s… Frisk, right?” They smile brighter, nodding as they scribble away on the notebook once more. [Yes. You are in my room.] That explains that. Wait… weren't you... outside? Doing something… in a garden? No wait, it's still the tail end of winter though. Dreaming. You must have been dreaming. You shift around, holding your head as your feet touch the ground; it's soft plush carpet. You rub your eyes and look about, yeah definitely it's a kid’s room alright. Toys and art supplies scattered about, a simple dresser and two doors, one of which looks like it leads to the bathroom, are the main decor of this room.

Yet, it feels oddly missing something, you just can't place it.

[Are you ok? Uncle Sans said for me to watch you while they all go to work]

“Hm? Yeah, no, I'm okay. Brain just feels a bit, erm, fuzzy.”

[You were talking in your sleep, bad dreams?]

You wave your hand.

“No… I don't think so. It's a blur, something about Kings and Queens. Haha, I read too many fairy tales.”

You smile gently, and they half-heartedly smile back.

...Grbblgrbbl…

You cough awkwardly and grab ahold of your stomach. Right, what did you eat earlier? Just an… um… you did eat something? Right? Everything is so clouded, it's hard to concentrate. Frisk’s shoulders tremble as they give you a silent giggle, scribbling once more.

[Hungry?]

You nod, somewhat embarrassed.

[Me too, I just woke up a bit ago too.]

Liar

You rub your temples, head pulsating with an unchanging ache. What… what was that? Were you hearing things? Frisk eyes you with their narrow gaze, a mix of worry and confusion in their stare. Now that you think about it, do they need glasses? They are always squinting every time you've met them. You slowly stand, looking down at yourself when the slightly chilled air kisses your skin. You're in… a hospital gown? As if noticing your sour change in expression, Frisk quickly writes on his clipboard.

[You can use my bathroom. Your logagelougageclothing is in there]

Oh thank this little sweetheart.

“Thank you Frisk, I won't be long.”

You shuffle over to the bathroom after following their guidance. It's a surprisingly big bathroom for just a kid; huge bathtub, great vanity-oh! You hustle over and cheer happily to yourself. The kid was right, your stuff was there waiting for you! Without a second thought, you open the baggage and reunite with some better fitting clothing. Now, just what to wear? You kneel down as you begin to pull clothing out and place it on the counter above. Oh, maybe you could wear-!

Jingle jingle

Screeeeech

Clink

…

?

Slowly you peer upwards, standing straight. What was that? Glancing around, your surprised to see something black had fallen into the sink’s basin. Hm? Is that…? No way… With only slight hesitation, you reach forward and pick up the object. It is! It's your bow tie from Grillby! Yet, it's heavier than before? Turning the sensitive fabric over, to your surprise you find something new embedded to the bow’s center. Hanging from a new silver d-ring are two quarter size charms; the first being a tiny silver bell which sings softly at the lightest touch. The other… is… it's… a skull? It looks familiar, yet you can not place it. A bit miffed that they tarnished your gift from your best friend, you place the tie down to pull your attention back to your clothing options.

Maybe… something nice? That's what everyone would want no doubt. Your are in a gang now after all, must take on some sort of image when gaining such an odd responsibility. Upon removing the hospital gown; were those green stains on the backside always there? Anyway, you wash your face to feel more refreshed. After drying off your delicate skin, you place the towel down on the counter top. For a moment, you pause as your fingertips brush against the satin dark textile. Something comes over you as you grasp the item.

With a familiar dexterity and accuracy, you tie this new adorned tie around your neck. Moving your hair back over your shoulders, you eye the accessory. The tie is ever the same, tucked neatly and perfectly against your nape. The charms rest just below the bow’s shadow, resting against your skin. You admire yourself in the mirror, just adding this onto you makes you feel better. Heh, maybe homesickness is the plague that hinders your thoughts?

Maybe they could let you call him?

You dress quickly in a nice button up of your favorite color and dark slacks. Brushing your hair and doing maintenance of yourself takes just a bit of time, but you feel more and more like yourself with every passing moment. Leaving the bathroom with your things in tow, you find Frisk closing the adjacent closet door. They jump, as if startled, when you close the bathroom door behind you. They turn around, holding up a pre-written sign. [Cleaned up my drawing stuff!] You stare for a second before nodding slowly. The ground was cleaned and now you didn't risk breaking any stray crayons… but it wasn’t like you were going to questions their actions. Before you can speak any further, your small shift in your stance as you place down the baggage causes the charm around your neck to jingle.

Oh yeah.

That.

“Frisk, do you know anything about this?”

Following your pointed finger, their eyes flash with recognition. [That skull thing let's everyone know you are part of our team.] They reach up behind the entry door to the room, placing on their head their cap from before. You pause, thinking to yourself as you see them fuss about their hair. Hmmm… team? Wait, are they referring to… huh. You guess that would be the youthful way of thinking about a crime syndicate, their family. A team. [The bell is because it's cute!] Their innocent smile makes it really hard to question any of this as you watch them scribble away. [Boss said you had to make sure you keep wearing your necklace thing to stay safe.] You hand softly caresses at the metal, the pleasant jingling stirring around in your thoughts.

To stay safe, huh?

Frisk tugs at your hand, patting their stomach with the other.

Right, food.

Following their lead, you exit the room. Frisk pulls out a key and locks the door behind them. Heh, kid must want their privacy. The hallway is large as you walk, and surprisingly quite lively. Each room with an open door, you peer into as you pass. All monsters, many of which dressed in formal uniform, are busying away with cleaning and such as the house wakes up in the afternoon. As you round a corner, you narrowly run into a beautiful rabbit monster in maid dress wear. She yelps and jumps back, a bit of the cleaning liquid spoiling into her.

“Ah! Look what you've-!”

She pauses worth wide button eyes, those of which are locked upon you.

Specifically, your neck.

Then, her gaze falls to Frisk.

Her long floppy ears falling down the back of her head.

Instantly, to your surprise, she bows and begins spilling out apologies.

“Er…” You're honestly not too sure how to respond.

Frisk thinks faster than you.

They tap the pleading rabbits shoulder, signing something to which the rabbit calms down in response. Without making eye contact with you, the rabbit scatters away with large bounding steps. You raise an eyebrow down to Frisk, who simply points to your neck, then to their head. Oh, the skull charm. Right, guess that means you will be respected just as much as Frisk is. You continue to follow along with Frisk; most monsters focused solely on the job, a few younger ones running up to Frisk and yourself to greet you good afternoon. Is it already the afternoon? You walk past a beautiful kitchen and you feel your heart swell as you slow down. It’s gorgeous! What you would do to cook… in... there…

A brief memory flies before your eyes.

You stumble over your own feet and catch yourself on the door frame.

You cooked... here?

Frisk tugs your sleeve, pulling you once more from your bleary thoughts.

“Oh? Yeah, sorry… just thought… I remembered something.”

You shake it off.

Frisk does too.

To your surprise, they lead you past the kitchen. Weren’t you two supposed to be getting something to eat? Before you have a chance to speak, Frisk drops your sleeve and darts forward. You keep a steady pace as you follow after them. Your eyes jump to where they are headed; a foyer it seems, and further in you see a hooded figure. Wait, no, you met this person last night. Frisk turns to face you, the masked figure as well. Frisk waves like crazy; signalling for you to catch up, so you hasten your pace to stand beside them. You pause to smile at the hooded figure.

[This is River! Our driver! They are going to take us around today. I have chores :( but if you’re with me it will be funner!]

Oh yes, River! That was the name!

“Ah, yes, we met last night. It is nice to see you again.”

You offer your hand out to them.

You smile brightly.

With a mask on, you are not too sure how they respond.

Wait, no, they simply nod in return.

Your hand falls to your side.

Frisk tucks their notepad under their arm, and begins signing. In between signing, they make snapping noises and tiny whistles; what a strange language. No matter how you try to follow it, you just simply can’t understand. River seems to though, as they nod silently in response. River waits while you two dress to leave; it’s still late winter after all, still quite a chill in the air. You assist tucking the scarf around Frisk’s neck, who beams up at you with a cheerful smile. They take your hand, theirs now gloved, and you follow the two out to the car… oh, wait, limo. Right. You climb in behind Frisk, both nestled in the back as River closes the door behind you.

[Boss wants me to check in on my aunt’s bakery first, we can get food there! Then my sisters’ clothing boutique. Would you like to go to the park after? Usually I go with Uncle Papirus Papyrus tomorrow, but i want nice cream]

Park? Nice cream? Eh, sure, why not… even though there’s still snow on the ground.

“Sounds like a plan. Is it far from here?”

They shake their head, holding up their hands.

“Does that mean… ten minutes?”

They nod, turning to look outside. You follow their gaze and stare out the window in return. The buildings pass by, and to your surprise you see a huge body of partially frozen water. “Oh! Wow! Isn’t this the lake that leads up to Mt. Ebott?” Frisk seems to tense at your words, but nods in response. “I’ve never seen it so close, only read about it in a few books.” The downside of living so far on the edge of Underground City. Just how long was that ride last night? You continue to space out for the remainder of the ride, your thoughts lost yet again. Mt. Ebott, if you squint, can be seen across the lake. It resides, watching over Underground City to it’s east.

[The monsters’ government locked off access to the mountain about half a year ago.]

“Hm? Really? I didn’t know that. Know any reason as to why?”

[No idea]

Liar

“Urhff… Ow...”

You rub your head, the migraine flaring up. ...Liar…? What? You rub your temples, the ache causing you to groan. A concerned Frisk looks up to you, their face scrunched with worry. “Heh, sorry, probably just hunger pains.” You give them a pity laugh and they eye you oddly. You both go back to staring out the window as the scenery changes back to more urban environment. The limo rolls to a stop and Frisk excitedly exits the limo, dragging you along, before even River exits the driver’s side of the car. You stand behind them, looking up at the large store before you. A lovely smell of fresh pastries fills the air, alluring you to step forward to follow its seductive scent. The crunching of snow under boots forces you to focus on the here and now. Frisk is waiting by the front door, waving you to come with.

“Ah! Sorry Frisk! Coming!”

You step forward, only to sense a presence at your side. Turning, you're surprised to see River by your side. They hold out to you a small black purse, which you kindly take and place it over your shoulder. Moving the strap causes the inside to jingle, gold coins perhaps? Ah, to pay for Frisk’s and your’s lunch! How nice, to be honest you hadn’t even thought about how you were going to pay. You peak inside to confirm your thoughts; gold and a few other small items, and close the purse back up.

“Ah, thank you. I greatly appreciate it. Would you like anything too?”

Their body seems to slightly jolt, as if not expecting you to ask such a thing.

They step back, shaking their head in a gesture to state no.

Huh, you hope you didn’t offend them.

You turn around, seeing Frisk has already left inside with the door slightly ajar in their wake.

“...Colors often do not matter, so why do you see them?”

You pause, your breath caught in your throat.

You turn on your heels, “What does that-?”

“Tra la la...”

River is already getting into the driver’s seat once more.

Such… such an odd and crypticperson.

You turn back and walk up to the front door, placing your hand on the door knob. You flinch back with a quiet yelp, your hand narrowly avoided running right into a cobweb. Carefully you open the door, a shiver passing over you as you duck into the doorway. Another web? Is it safe to eat here if they are this careless about the bakery’s standards?

“Oh, greetings dearie. Welcome to my bakery and parlor!”

You stand frozen at the entrance, eyes locked onto the two before you at the counter.

“Frisk was just telling me about you.”

She giggles behind her hands, Frisk pats the seat next to them.

You saunter over, avoiding the webs and tiny spiders crawling on the floor.

“My name is Muffet; here we sell pastries and ciders made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders! Ahuhuhu~”

You take a seat, eyes wondering over before the monster in front of you.

Frisk’s aunt is... a spider lady?!

“What would you like to order today? We have doughnuts, croissants, and more!”

You gulp, your eyes falling onto the menu.

Your stomach churns.

Never mind the spiders, the prices are the scariest thing here!

“Uh, I’ll have... what Frisk’s having.” A child can't eat that much, can they?

Frisk gives you a thumbs up and proceeds to sign away, dear god just how much is this child ordering?

You should start counting the coin you have now…

Chapter 19: Spiders Are Nice, Sometimes

Chapter Text

This kid eats way too much for their age.

Oh, don’t worry, Muffet was absolutely thrilled with the order. The black purse you have on the other hand is crying. In the end you ended up ordering quarter as much as Frisk, enjoying a simple spider doughnut and a drink they got. It smelled rather familiar as the lady spider baker drew near. She sat the two of you at the end of the corner next to a large window. The sun feels great on your skin as you settle into the plush seats. Her hands and arms work with ease, pouring the drinks without hesitation. There are tiny spiders who-oh my gosh, are they wearing tiny aprons?! With little purple hearts!

Ahem.

You thank Muffet for the food and drink as she smiles in return. You watch as Frisk begins to sign once more to his ‘aunt’ and watch as her expression changes in response. Her eyes, all five, glimpse towards you every so often. You really dislike being out of the loop, but decide to focus on your meal. The doughnut is actually quite delicious, despite it being made of… spiders. Just going to ignore that fact. Without thinking you take a sip of your drink, only to gasp in surprise. Muffet and Frisk turn their attention to you, Muffet’s eyes wide with shock.

“What is it dearie~? Do you not-”

“Cider... It's spider cider...”

You shake your head. Your eyes fall to inside the mug, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. Muffet clearly does not understand as she looks over to Frisk for help. It dawns on them suddenly as the sign to Muffet, watching as you gulp down the drink with tearful haste.

“Oh! With Grillby? I didn't know. We have a driver who makes the deliveries since the operation has grown. Dearie?”

She calls out for you, but at the moment you're just within your own thoughts. One of many hands falls onto your shoulder, and the tears slip past your defenses. You smile up at the concerned spider lady. “I-It’s nice to meet the creator of this fine drink, I use it all the, the time at the bar.” She squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. “W-would,” You clear your throat. “would it be okay to purchase a jug to go? Oh wait,” You look through the purse, just a few gold too short. Your face turns crestfallen. “Maybe I can-”

A clock chimes.

“Oh! Frisk I have a matter to discuss of great importance with you in my office. Dearie, please wait here for a few minutes. If you would like, you can play with my pet while you-”

Frisk is shaking their head ‘no’ rapidly, for a moment you wonder why.

“Oh, perhaps next time you two visit then. Ahuhuhu~”

With that, Muffet and Frisk leave to a back room.

Alone, alone in your thoughts you swirl the nearly empty mug in your hand. Grillby… You still have yet to contact him. Does he… miss you too? You gently munch on the doughnut, the crumbs falling onto your lap without a care. The tiny spiders walk by, picking up the fallen crumbs and munch on them, or remove them all together into the trash. You can’t help but sadly chuckle, too bad you didn’t have them working with you at Grillby’s, right? Your eyes trail over to the counter, landing on a phone set up stationed beside the counter space. Perhaps…

You stand slowly, carefully to avoid stepping on any spiders. You wring your hands together as you stare up at the numbers. Perhaps… you could make a quick call? Let him know how you are? It’s almost time for him to open the bar, maybe you could catch him before he gets busy? Your hand lands on the phone, only for you to retract it back. Would, would they be okay with you making a quick call? It’s not your phone to use, but… at the very least you can check in? Taking a deep breath, you hold the phone up to your ear. Spinning the wheel, you dial out the bar’s number you have come to memorize over time.

Ring…

Ring… Ring…

Ring…

Perhaps he’s not available-

Click

Silence

No wait… there’s... crackling?

“...Muffet, I told you I will have money for the next shipment by Wed-”

“B-Boss!” You squeal quietly, nervousness nearly biting your tongue.

More silence.

Maybe this was a mistake…

Maybe he didn’t want to see you…

Maybe-

The crackling turns into a roaring flame, a shout of your name on the other line filled with obvious surprise. Tears form in your eyes as a smile crosses your lips. “Hiya Boss, yes, it’s me.” Stupid doubts, of course Grillby would want to hear from you. “...I thought, I thought you were…” He trails off, sounding a bit flustered. This probably wasn’t what Gaster had planned for you. “Well, it’s a bit of a.. long story. Do you have time? Hopefully I can tell it rather quickly, I know the bar opens soon.” You hear Grillby grunt and shift about. “...Just a moment.” You hear is crackling fade away and you take a breath, trying to clear your thoughts. Just what can you, and will you, tell him? Pretty much everything… everything... is the best idea. Honesty the best policy, right? The crackling returns and you hear the phone shift back into his hands.

“...We are closed for the next hour.”

Oh boy… here goes...

“Frisk, Frisk, slow down. I can not read your hands that fast; even with all my eyes on you, ahuhuhu~.”

Frisk sighs, pointing at the letters before them and then back to themselves.

“Why yes dearie, those are the reports Boss has requested. Yes, I know, I am requesting more financial aid. Humans as of late…” She pauses, her hands in pairs rubbing together uncomfortably. “...they have been quite frightening. Some threatened to attack us after hours, claiming I am spreading onto their area; erm, turf, as they said. It is not my fault many of my clients have refined taste.” She giggles behind her hands, only to fall short when she spots her cuff links.

“Oh yes, Frisk, I have noticed the other one you brought with you… she bares the emblem as well. On the tie she wears around her neck. Could you perhaps... enlighten me as to when this arrangement occurred~?” She huffs quietly, not liking being out of the loop. Frisk taps their fingers together and smiles up at her nervously. They sign again; doing their best to remain slow, they do their best to tell her what they know.

Upon ending the quick tale of your heroics; Muffets sits and ponders, sipping on a glass of tea. “My, my… Perhaps she has a death wish. Ahuhuhu~ To go up against the Crown Five like that. Oh? Oh yes, I know, it’s not all too funny. It’s just…” She trails off, rolling her wrist for emphasis. Frisk nods, understanding what she means. She watches him sign a response and nods in return. “Well, she seems like a doll, and I am glad you were able to persuade Boss to let her stay. Sending her to Northside would have been unfortunate, she would be unable to remain a loyal patron of mine~!”

Frisk rolls their eyes, always about the money with his ‘aunt’. Jumping from the stool, they straighten out their cap and slide back on their coat. They slide the letters into the internal pockets, protectively against their chest. Their eyes glance over to a picture on the desk; it shows Muffet and her spider family. Gaster had taken the picture, they remember back. It was on the day he and Frisk found the family begging on the streets, asking to spare a coin before the winter cold… about two years ago now.

A smile tug on Frisk’s lips as they point at the picture. Muffet smiles in return, her fangs peeking out betwixt her lips. She places a finger on the frame, tracing along the edge of the wood. It’s a handmade frame decorated in cute yellow flowers, created for her by Frisk. “Yes, I always keep it by my side. It’s such a great reminder to see how far our family has come~!” Her welcome present. With the picture she was gifted her cuff links; one for each wrist. Proof she and her family are within the protection of the Underground Mafia.

A sign of protection.

The skull.

Frisk watches as her claws land on the bottom of the frame, tracing the letters.

In bulky letters across the bottom of the frame, Frisk had written a word of wisdom to the family.

Stay Determined

It made them smile.

“I’m just so glad you convinced me to learn to bake, who would have guessed I was a natural! Ahuhuhu~!”

Frisk smile falters.

Yeah, who would have guessed?

Stepping out of the office, Muffet shares some final words with Frisk in regards to personal matters involving special deliveries. Frisk gives Muffet a thumbs up and a quick hug, Muffet gratefully returning the affection. “Thank you for stopping by Frisk, I’ll-”

Sniffle

She falls quiet, Frisk perking up as the sound breaks the silence once more. ...Crying? Both of them poke their heads around the corner, spotting your slumped figure by the phone. You're talking quietly, wiping your cheeks every now and then. Frisk feels Muffet press against their back as she tries to listen in. Frisk steadys themselves, holding themselves against the door frame to remain hidden.

“Y-Yeah, Grillby, I know… I have to. I know those pills probably aren’t safe… but… I want to come back someday, return to my old job. Return everything back to normal. Do I-what? No, of course I don’t regret it, there’s no way I would have let those kids get hurt.”

Frisk’s stomach tightens, a knot of guilt forming in their chest.

“...I, I just wish there was a better way-No! You mustn't! Please I don’t, I don’t want to be in trouble. You in trouble. I don’t think there’s any long term effects, just a bit of fuzzy memory is all. Yeah, this morning… Yeah, like I said, it’s a haze. If I find out something worse hap-yes, yes… I… you're right. I don’t want to leave Southside… but if I have to… I’ll go to Northside. Hopefully someone remembers me there.” Your soft, glum laughter fills their ears.

Muffet tilts her head, then nudges Frisk in the side. Frisk looks up at her curiously, she puts a finger to her lips.

“Oh, why yes Frisk! Most certainly you can bring a jug of spider cider home! Free of charge!”

She winks at them, whispering softly.

“This one time.”

Frisk can’t help for a silent giggle to rattle their shoulders.

You gasp upon hearing Muffet’s returning voice, there meeting was already over?! No!

“B-Boss, I have to go. I’ll try to call you again in a few days, and I’ll keep you posted on things, okay?”

“...Yes, and please be safe. I am just a call away.”

“Heh, yes, thank you. You keep safe as well.”

You peek over your shoulder, still no sign of them.

“Oh, and Boss, please remember to eat something in between shift and after your shift. Did you remember to buy a new deck of cards for the dog guard? Did you ever restock the fries?!”

You hear a chuckle on the other end.

“...It’s only been a day.”

…

Oh.

Feels a lot longer though.

“I, well, I know that… just… don’t go burning yourself out without me being there and all. I know how you can be.”

You chide him with a sad smile on your lips. The last thing you hear before hanging up is his sigh of utter defeat, but no doubt you can picture the smile on his face. You miss him. He misses you. Rushing to hang up the phone, you quickly move back to the table. Thankfully no spiders hinder your walk, and you quickly wipe your face as Frisk and Muffet make their return. You turn away to face the window, allowing the warm sun to calm your heated face.

“Ah, dearie, sorry for the delay, just finishing up some final touches for the Boss.”

You nod, turning towards them. Hopefully they can see that you're fine. You're not. They can tell. hey don’t say anything. Frisk signs something to Muffet and Muffet nods in return, could she at least tell you what Frisk is saying? Muffet goes behind the counter, filling a bag with goodies and drinks. Frisk nods towards the bag, a gesture for you to grab it. Confusion and panic paints your face. You don’t have the gold to cover this.

“Uh, Frisk, as much as I want to we don’t have enough-”

“No worries, dearie~”

Muffet places the heavy bag in your arm, you hold it to your chest.

“But-but-but!”

You sputter, but the spider just smiles a fanged grin in return. Grabbing your free hand, Frisk begins to guide you out of the bakery while the spiders and Muffet wave goodbye to you. Muffet follows behind, watching your disbelief as you follow Frisk into River’s awaiting limo. She waves as the limo pulls away, your bright smile shining through even the darkened limo’s windows. She watches as you jump for joy, narrowly hitting your head on the rooftop. You must have found the spider cider she had snuck into the bottom of the bag.

“Ahuhuhu~! Take care dearies~!”

She shouts as she waves. The engine kicks into life, pulling away from the front of her building. She watches as the limo disappears around the corner; no doubt heading to its next destination, the boutique. Muffet returns into her bakery dwelling while the door closes with a jingle, the little spiders looking up at Muffet in confusion. Muffet giggles to herself, pulling out a small notebook behind the counter.

“That’s minus twenty-eight gold. Just forty-two more to go, and we will have paid back our debt.”

The small spiders speak amongst themselves, but no doubt all agree with her.

Although they never pushed it, Frisk was the one to invest into their family more than anyone. How ever could a child have come across so much gold? In return, all they asked for in return was for her family to repay the kindness through their actions. Just forty-two more gold to go, and the repayment will be complete.

...Complete...

Muffet hesitates before shecloses the book.

She eyes the numbers.

She eyes the actions over the past years.

Her actions

No more acts of kindness expected of her...

...

...

...

She erases the amount she just wrote in.

Chapter 20: Sharing Is Caring, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“Like, oh my gosh, Bratty, look!”

“Like, no way, Catty, it’s Frisk! Hiya darling~!”

“Oh. My. Gosh. Who are you sweetheart?!”

“Like, Catty, she has such great style! Look! She has her charm on her kitty collar! How cute!”

“Ahhhhhh! Bratty! That is such, like, a genius idea!”

“I know! Quick! Grab paper and take notes!”

...

...

These two... are just...

Way.

Too.

Much.

You stand silent and still, awkwardly behind Frisk who has just brought you into a cute boutique you’ve seen advertise in the local paper. You expected cute clothes out of your budget, you hadn’t expected two hyperactive fashionistas to spazz about upon seeing you. The full figured cat monster lady is prancing about, grabbing all sorts of art supplies while the lanky alligator monster lady before you is smiling widely with her long snout. Frisk is signing something to her while you attempt to read their hands. Nope, still not understanding. Wait, they pointed at you? Frisk’s gaze turns to you and you hear, Bratty was it? The alligator lady seems to squeal in joy.

“Oh wow! You're, like, our new sister! Catty! Come greet our new sister!”

Wait, what?

She flashes her necklace at you, a charm of a skull hangs from it.

“Whaaaa! No way! Nice to meet you little sis!”

She too, has a similar necklace around her neck.

Apparently this is a thing now.

“Er, nice to meet you too, my name is-”

“Wait! Frisk! That reminds me, we have something for Boss!”

Catty comes running up; cutting off your introduction, holding a gift in her paws. You sigh; in defeat, instead watch as Frisk signs something. Turning to you, they point out into the store. “Awwww, Frisk that’s so nice of you!” Catty smiles with-are those hearts in her eyes?-admiration upon Frisk, while Bratty is happily clapping, her claws clicking once making contact. They are a bright, gaudy pink. It actually fits quite well with her shiny green scales. Your brow arch as you look upon Frisk, who nudges you again towards the stores center.

“Sweetheart, Frisk says you can shop a bit and he’ll put it on their tab!”

A… shopping spree? Really? No way.

Another push.

“Yeah, go to the back, we have all sorts of accessories on sale!”

An almost forceful shove of a clawed hand finally gets you moving towards the store’s heart. Your hands wring against one another as you look about; prices are… relatively fair, but this isn’t your money to spend. You turn and peek over your shoulder, watching as Frisk guides the other two towards a back hallway. Welp, guess you could at least browse… right? You walk over to the cloth rack, nonchalantly looking through the fabrics. Oh, your hand falls to your side. Monster clothing; articles in which there are empty spaces for tails, fins, spikes… etc. In other words, not really for humans.

You step away from the clothing, feeling a bit downtrodden. You hear a quiet jingling as you move about; oh right, you're playing with the bell again. Starting to become a weird habit of yours. Your fingers dance over the fabric of soft bow ties and scarves; the silk the gentlest you’ve ever felt. Your eyes scan the wall as you look upon jewelry; necklaces, rings, studs, and what not. Nothing really has interested you. You step around a display and come to a halt, handkerchiefs? You step closer, looking across the table. Yes, silken cloths folded in triangles wrapped with a single thin strip of ribbon. You squint as you look over a sign hanging in the background.

“Em… Embossing? Embossing available for extra gold. To Begin: Unfold fabric and place it in section A.” Your eyes look from the demonstration to the large machine to your left. Hm… well isn’t this something. You have never seen such a thing. Your eyes fall onto a lovely silk triangle; the darkest shade of black, as you grasp it to follow the directions. “Once placed in section A, clip the four corners of the fabric down using the available attachments to secure the item.” Click, click, click… just a little more… click. Perfect. “Under the right hand, lower corner see the screen to select embossing option. Such examples include… blahblahblah.” Your eyes wander over the examples of beautiful fonts and sayings, yet nothing reaches out to peek your interest. Your finger lands on one letter in particular amongst the font examples.

Oh?

It’s a capital g.

Your finger traces over the raised thread. Your eyes soften with each tight turn of the letter, smiling as it falls onto the sharp sections. G. The corner of your mouth twitches, then falls to a frown. G… like Gaster. You turn away from the machine, scoffing under your breath. You don’t even want to think about that bastard; tricking you into taking that pill. No, not tricking, forcing! You take a step, but your foot hovers above the ground. The bastard that took you in. The bastard who's letting you live there, within his home… cause you started sh*t with their rival gang. A gang that nearly killed your best friend. A gang he is protecting Grillby from as of now. Protecting your home.

You grit your teeth.

You shouldn’t.

You eye the screen.

Stop that.

You click the button.

You have nothing to thank him for!

The machine begins to glow and rumble to life.

…

You are doing this for him, for Grillby.

You move away from the machine while it awakens.

Oh? What’s this?

Frisk might like this!

“Like, Frisk, we understand! We will be safe.”

“Yeah. It’s not like they attacked us when we were open! They just threw a few bricks at the front window!”

“I even repurposed the glass shards into beautiful necklace!”

“Catty! Don’t say that about our jewelry!”

“Well it was that or in the garbage! Well honestly, I grabbed the shards from the garbage...”

…

“Heheheh, oh my gosh Catty you’re so bad.” “Nyah-hahah, like so bad!”

The two fall into a giggle fit as Frisk silent laughs with them. Shaking their head, Frisk scribbles down onto their notepad. These two never change. Placing one of two envelopes from their pocket onto the table, the manilla package sits between the two chatty creatures. Bratty opens the folder with a quick slash of her claw, looking over the contents. “Oh! Awesome! Thank you Frisk. Catty, our monthly budget has increased due to our sales performance!” Catty squeals and jumps in her seat. “Ahhhh, that’s so amazing! Frisk please, please, please make, extra, extra, sure you give boss the present! He, like, needs it more than ev’a now!” She hugs the kid tightly, Frisk scrambling in her arms.

Too tight!

Can’t breathe!

A chime rings behind them, signalling the time.

“Like, oh no, Frisk, I am so so sorry, but Bratty and I need to head out! Like, ten minutes ago!”

“Oh my gosh, you are so right Catty, we are gonna miss the show if we are too late!”

The alligator frantically begins to run around, gathering and placing all sorts of items.

“Frisk, just tell sis that whatever she grabs she can keep, don’t worry about the tab! It’s on the house this time!”

The cat scrambles behind the gator as they make their way to the back exit.

“Just make sure you lock up, okay?! Use that special key of yours! Thanks doll!”

“Bye Frisk, bye little sisssssssssss~!” Their voices mix and echo upon their exit.

Clank

The door slams shut behind them.

Those two.

Jumping from their place on the counter, Frisk makes their way back to the front of the store. Peeking around the corner, they watch as you admire something that you are holding in the air. A large black square? You place it in a basket you are carrying, walking over to a display to the right. Sneaking forward, Frisk uses their height to their advantage. You are humming to yourself, flipping through some hand accessories. “Oh… what a gorgeous navy color. Leather too! Perhaps he would like these?” You are talking to yourself.

Wait, who would like what?

You shuffle back over to the machine, clipping something onto the machine. You are beginning to become quite familiar with operating this mechanical wonder. “Hm… relaxed, yet punctual. Lax… yet... Ah, option fourteen, let’s see...” The lid clicks closed and a bright light illuminates your eyes. From the angle Frisk watches you, he can see the gleam of joy and happiness emanating from you. Your eyes shining not only from the machine’s work, but from you just having fun. For a second, the smell of heat fills the air, but no sooner than it had started, it dissipates.

Deftly you reopen the machine, a bright smile dressing your lips. “Oh wow, these turned out lovely.” Frisk watches as you hastily move about the shop, after taking whatever you placed in the machine into your basket. They can’t quite see what it is, but whatever it is, you sure seem proud of the results. Your boots click against the linoleum as you shuffle about. Perhaps… nah, no he wouldn’t like that. Wait, or would he? It’s not like you know him very well either. Wait, that could work! Wait, no, yes, maybe?

Would a skeleton even wear a scarf?

You grasp a hold of a hanging piece of fabric, stroking it as you carry it to the machine. It’s rather large, but not too wide. It should be perfect, if he would even like it that is. The clicks ring out as you carefully cascade the long textile through the other side of the machine. “Hm… energetic, yet punctual. Attention grabbing… yet demanding. Ah, option twenty-six, perfect!”Once again an aura paints you, and you feel your heart flutter.

Frisks eyes widen for but a moment, watching the… it must be the machine’s magic, inbody you. Yes. That must be it. There’s no way-

“Ouch, still a bit on the warm side. Heh, there we go. Nice and easy, right with everyone else.”

In a tight fold, you place the scarf amongst the other accessories. You take a deep breath, feeling a nice calmness wash over you. Closing your eyes, you hold the basket close. Why is it… why is it you feel so warm and fuzzy? Well... you’ve always loved gifting things to others. You place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart pitter patter in return. Maybe you haven’t done something like this as often as you want; gifting things to others that is, but often this was due to time and money constraints. Now though? You aren’t paying for anything, and you do feel a bit guilty for this, but it would be rude to deny the shop owners’ request.

Snap snap

“Er!? Oh, hello again Frisk. Where are my, heh, sisters?”

Scribble scribble

[They had to leave and we should probably head out too]

“Um, okay, what about these-?”

Frisk gives you a thumbs up and a smile.

“Um… alright then. Next time we see them, be sure to remind me to say thank you!”

You chuckle as they grab your free arm impatiently, dragging you to the front door. The click the lights off behind them as you shift the contents of the basket into a plastic take home bag. Tucking the baggage under your arm, you pick up the small white box sitting on the table. “Mustn't forget this now shall we?” Frisk smiles and signs something to you. “Um, does that mean ‘thank you’?” Nod. Thumbs up. Smile. “Oh, then you are quite welcome then.”

This kid has such nice manners, you wonder who taught them.

Exiting the front door, you watch as Frisk locks the door behind you. You look closely at their hand, spying the key. You had noticed this key before at the bakery, but only by a passing glance. Upon further examination, you see that it is in fact the only key they have. A key for both stores? Why give each store the same lock? That seems like such a hazard for security.

[Chores all done! It’s around 2 or something now, let’s head to the park! Maybe M.K. is there!]

“Oh? Sure let’s-woah! Frisk, slow down!”

You scramble after the bundle of energy, following them into the awaiting limo. No sooner does River close the door behind you, do you see them sitting in the front again. River… River seems to be sort of creepy like that. You place the bag in your lap and Frisk leans over to the bar, grabbing a water for the both of you. “Oh, thank you Frisk.” They point at the bag and then point to you. “Oh, erm, I didn’t get anything… for myself… just didn’t feel right?” You give them a guilty smile. “Wait, here, I got this for you though.” You place the glass in the door’s holder, while Frisk looks at you with a squinting confused expression.

You… got them something?

“Here! I thought you would like... this.”

You outstretch your palm.

In your hand rests a pin.

A pin that shines in the light of the passing sun.

A sun to soon rest behind the great mountain of Ebott.

Frisk lower jaw begins to tremble.

A gorgeous pearl, surrounded by golden petals.

“Isn’t it beautiful? It reminds me of you!”

Your smile beams.

Theirs… does not.

“Hehe, I know cheesy, right? But you-. You… Frisk?”

Frantic signing with shaking hands.

“Frisk? Did, did I upset you? Do you… do you not like it?”

Your eyes widen with worry.

They grasp their notepad.

[I love it]

They drop the note book, hugging you in a tight grip.

“Oh Frisk, it’s no problem at all sweetie. Here, let me put it on you.”

The pin easily slips into their cap; right next to the skeleton charm.

You brush the strands of dark locks from their face.

“Now you can show M.K. once we get there, how’s about that?”

Their body shakes with tiny silent laughter, but their grip does not loosen.

You wrap an arm around the child, softly stroking their cheek as you ease into the fine leather seating.

Now, time for a relaxing afternoon in the park.

Chapter 21: Just A Nice Day At The Park, Sometimes

Chapter Text

The grinding of salt against rubber tires drives you to a more conscious state. Frisk has yet to move from your arm’s embrace, no doubt resting after the lovely drive. No music had played in the limo, leaving a gentle peacefulness to evaporate as the engine hypnotizing rumble dies down. At your feet you gently nudge the bags away, stretching the stiffness away from you legs. Just how long had you been sitting? A quiet whimper at your side has you helping the out-of-it Frisk up in their seat.

“Heh, good afternoon sleepyhead. We’re here.”

The door at your side pops open with an audible click, the crisp cool winter air making your shoulders visibly shiver. You gently push the bags at your feet out of the way of danger, shifting out to stand beside the door. The park is vast and dusted with the lightest touch of fresh snow. Not a soul is out in the park, why would they be? It’s a chilly afternoon after all. You adjust your jacket and lift the collar of the jacket higher to protect your neck from the chill. The… shall you call it gang... collar? Membership necklace? Protection pendant? Choker? Choker sounds less demeaning. The choker tucks away from sight, the bell following in its shadow. A gloved hand grasps your own, Frisk tugging you along to a path covered by a snow drift. The limo begins to fade from view as the two of you enjoy the silence of the worn path.

You follow Frisk’s lead over to an area with benches and, wait, are those ducks? Isn’t it a bit early for them to be back? Must be monster ducks, perhaps? Frisk; oh such a good child, brushes clean the snow from the bench so you can sit. You relax onto the bench, thankful that your jacket is giving you plenty of warmth since the bench’s metal would bite at your skin. Frisk walks over to the ducks; signing to them so yeah a few of them have to be monsters, and to stop your heart from beating onE ALMOST FLIES AWAY WITH THEM YOU BRING BACK FRISK RIGHT NOW YOU-oh okay, they planned for that to happen. Frisk smiles as they wave from the air, hovering just a few feet over your head. You are ready for any moment to leap up and grab them, but then Frisk is placed onto the bench next to you. The bird, duck, whatever super strong monster that was waves and flies back to it’s friends.

Thankfully, now both of you are enjoying the calm and quiet.

“...So Frisk, anything you would like to do later? Something that won’t be the death of me?”

You ask with a chuckle as you stare into the chilled lake, watching as tiny icebergs crash against the pier. You see movement out of the corner of your eye, and turn to see Frisk has produced a tiny notebook from their pocket.

[Homework, Dinner, Bed :( ]

Oh, that… that’s unfortunate. You must visibly react in some way as Frisk smiles up at you and pats your arm then reaches into their pocket-! Suddenly a flash of something comes across their face. Concern? Worry? They jump off the bench and hold up a finger; one second that gesture means, you think, and watch as they search their pockets. Their face seems to crinkle in stress.

[Be right back]

You barely have enough time to read the message before the kid leaves you in the dust, running back the direction to which you came. Alright then. You sit for just moment longer, but find yourself standing as your legs begin to feel numb. Perhaps a walk to give your legs some circulation would do you good. You look up, and if you squint you can just barely see Frisk halfway to the limo. They wouldn’t even know you were gone. Following the path, you walk along the lake side. Taking a deep breath, a wave of… of something washes over you. Sadness? Guilt? Why does your heart feel so heavy? Heh, maybe the stress of all this has finally caught up to you-!

“Fuc-umphf! ”

Oh.

Oh god!

That’s coldddddd!

You leap back on your knees and for a second all you see are chunks of hazy white. Furiously wiping the copious amounts of snow off your face, your vision clears to reveal, ugh, it’s just a solid round mound of snow in the middle of the walk way. A snow poff. A very rude snow poff. You really should have watched what you were walking, but that’s besides the point! You huff as you scramble to your feet, at least the grounds too cold to be wet. Brushing the specks of dirty snow off of your knees, you pause as a sound begins to trickles into your senses.

What…?

...creak…creak…

You whip your head around, the cold chill kissing at the nape of your neck.

...creak…creak…

...is that?

...creak…creak…

It’s... it’s coming from over there?

You walk forward; hesitantly, and step around the small shed building. Oh! It’s a playground just a few yards away! A smile shines on your face as you step forward confidently, oh Frisk has to know this is here! Why didn’t they show you? Your boots shuck across the snow and to your pleasant surprise the mulch beneath the snow makes for a better grip. There’s a large slide partially covered in snow, monkey bars with tiny icicles hanging from them, swings swaying in the gentle breeze, a young girl all by herself, a teeter totter frozen in-wait. You stop mid step of your adventure and duck behind one of the benches for parents to watch their children. Monster children. What on earth is this human girl doing out here by herself? Be it Southside is open to humans; but never by themselves, especially so young in public.

That’s just dangerous.

Taking a deep breath, you decide it's best to approach. You could use the excuse that you want to sit because you’re sore from, um, walking? Well, not much of an excuse when it’s mostly true, but… whatever, you’re not going to scar a girl for telling her why you’re really sore. Thanks Gaster and Sans.

Thanks.

She doesn’t seem to be in distress anyway; just kind of lazily swinging back and forth, looking around at the beautiful scenery. You step; rather loudly, on the snow to her right and you watch as she looks up at you with a sharp gasp. You give her a bright grin; one you’ve practiced a thousand times with difficult guests back at Grillby’s. Taking a seat beside her in the adjacent swing set, you look over the frozen lake. It’s so pretty with the falling sun’s rays painting the ice crust.

“Um, hello there. Nice day today, isn’t it?”

Great greeting, you awkward guppy.

You wave at her while she says nothing, her beautiful baby blues shimmering with alert. You shift in the seat and kick your boots together, the snow falling to the ground.

“So… Just hanging out here by the water? What's your name?”

You offer out your hand while introducing yourself by name. Her brow arches as she glances down at your gloved hand and back to your face. Her brows furrow as her eyes slowly fall back to your outstretched hand. Just as you go to return your hand to your side, something flashes across her face and your smile drops. Great, you’re scaring her. She straightens up; causing you to sharply inhale at her sudden movements, catching you off guard.

“What a beautiful name you have!”

She giggles as she jumps to her feet, her boots burying themselves into the snow. She’s so full of energy, beaming with excitement in her voice. How cute! She smiles as she tilts her head, the cute bow on her head bouncing as she moves. She stands before you and pulls you to your feet upon grasping your hand. Holy cow, this kid’s strong. Her blue eyes sparkle as she shakes your hand with vigor.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She curtsies with a smile.

“My name…”

Her hands fold behind her back

“...is Sovereign. Shall we play a game?”

From behind her back, your face twists in shock. A… a knife?

You step backwards and eye her.

“A… A game?”

Her smile brightens as with her other hand she points towards your neck.

“Well… can’t have a piece of sh*t betrayer like you walking around. A human joining the monster's’ side of things is just... ludicrous after all.”

She cackles as she leaps forward, blade drawn high.

“I have to purge you from this world you worthless scum!”

Fight or flight.

That is nature of mankind’s instincts.

Her’s is of… fight.

Your’s… flight!

You have to get out of here!

You turn and run, stomping against the mulch mixed snow as you make your way to freedom. Be it… it’s short lived as she slides before you, slashing and just by a hair missing you. You duck under the equipment and quickly leap across a bridge used for kid’s to play on; now, your escape route. You cry out as you feel the blade just barely nick at your backside. She’s too fast! She’s just a child?! How can she-!

“Agggghhhhhh!”

You tumble forward, the metal flooring of the school equipment turning just too slippery for your frantic movements. You slide into the backside of a ladder leading to a slide. You gasp as your shoulder slams into the metal, a sickening crunch vibrating up your arm. Your other hand quickly grasps it as you cry out, your pained call echoing the calm air.

Frisk, where is Frisk?!

Anyone?!

It’s only you and her.

She’s giggling as she looks down at you.

“Aw, over already?”

“S-Stay back!”

Your lower lip trembles as you swear under your breath.

Your arm throbs in pain, sending chills through your body as adrenaline pumps in you.

“Now, now, I can’t do that.”

She tosses the knife in her hands as you scoot back back, backed into the corner of the playground equipment. The metal, despite your jacket’s protection, it’s cold bites at you. A drop of sweat slides down your brow, your heart’s thundering echo screaming in your ears. She, Sovereign as she has informed you, smiles and bounces on her feet. Even after chasing you, she doesn’t look the least bit tired.

“I-I, please don’t do this...”

You plead. She laughs. She darts forward, swiping at you with great might. You slide out of the way, the weapon barely nicking your jacket as it collides with the pole behind you. You use your feet to push you back away from her, your space becoming more limited by the second. She keeps getting closer!

“This is my chance!”

Swipe

“To prove to them!”

Clash

“To prove to him! ”

The tip of the blade’s metal rest’s at your throat.

“I’ll prove to them that I deserve my title.”

She smiles; it’s vile and manic nature souring your stomach, as she causes the bell to jingle. You look down at the blade with your eyes alone, then back up to meet hers. She sneers as she swipes against the pendants at your neck. Her eyes narrow in distain as she raises her arm. Wait… title? This girl... this child! Your knees lack the strength to move. How could she?! Your arms straining to hold you up from collapsing onto the ground. Crown Five! You feel the snow beneath you seep into your pants as it melts, the cold burning into your sensitive skin.

She’s part of the Crown Five?!

“I’ll show Czar-

Her arm slices downwards.

Your chest aches.

Why is she doing this

The blade shimmers in the sun.

The world around you begins to darken.

Something is wrong

You close your eyes.

Your head and chest throb concurrently.

Why is she like this

“-I can HELP!”

Your mind falls blank as the world fades into an unfamiliar darkness. A pull from your chest reveals your soul, glowing in the darkness like a reaper’s guide. You scream as the blade comes down, a deep slice across the surface, cracks forming from the force alone. You gasp and fall back, the pain rippling through your body.

Weak.

“I will be the hero!”

You try to crawl away with your free arm.

It’s hopeless.

She laughs as she slashes again, finding it humorous in your attempts to run away. Your movements feel restricted, like you can’t run very far despite seeing only endless darkness. You fall to your knees as your eyes meet her own, the blade raised high into the air. You inhale. Her face contorts as with a horrifying amount of power she strikes down. Alone. You are to die. The blade, it shimmers in the darkness despite the lack of light. A choked cry leaves you when a deep crack finally rips through it. You try to hold it together, with sheer will alone… but it’s not enough.

“I did it! I… I have her soul! Majesty will be so happy!”

“N-No-! I… You… can’t…”

Your soul… it doesn’t refuse, cracking into shards of green as it falls into her awaiting hand. Your vision fades from you as a wave of familiarity hits you. Like a drowning wave, cascading regret upon you as you try and fight this feeling. This feeling of failure. This feeling of death. Your knees are the first to give, collapsing into the snow. Your hand swipes uselessly at your soul as she steps away with it. G-Give it back! Your eyes fall shut as dizziness slams your senses. You try to cry out to her, for anyone, but you fail…. Nobody came. Falling forward, in the distance you see a… a figure and a golden... glow?

“Fr...i…sk...”

Your vision fades away as a dull moment of silence encompasses you.

You do not feel anything, anymore.

Everything feels numb, a terrifyingly cold numbness in your limbs… in your face...

Everything is wrapped in a haze of white.

It’s just… so cold...

With your remaining strength, your hand shakily leave your sides as they touch your face. Wait. Your vision begins to clear... to reveal… a snow poff. A snow poff? A snow poff! You scramble to your feet, the feeling of cold slowly dissipating from your face. The hell?! You grasp at your chest and look around, your heart’s strenuous thumping filling your ears. You’re… it happened… again? Wait, what had happened again? What’s going on? Your head feels fuzzy. Your arms move quickly to brush specks of dirty snow off of your knees, you pause as you stare at your arms. Why… why are you afraid to move that arm? Why do you wish to…? Ugh… had you passed out? Hit your head when you fell?

Was it all just a dream?

...creak…creak…

You whip your head around, the cold chill kissing at the nape of your neck.

...creak…creak…

That sound...

It’s coming from over there.

You walk forward; hesitantly, and shield yourself behind the small shed building. Your boots shuck across the snow and the mulch beneath the snow; which makes for a better grip actually. No, wait, you knew there would already be mulch there. Your eyes travel about the area. A large slide partially covered in snow, monkey bars with tiny icicles hanging from them, swings swaying in the gentle breeze, a young girl all by herself, a teeter totter frozen in-wait. You stop mid step to duck behind one of the benches. It’s her. It wasn’t a dream. You… you are back. Back to where this... began? Perhaps… perhaps this time…

Different.

Perhaps this time can be different.

This is dangerous, but you must know...

Was it truly, all just a dream?

Taking a deep breath, you decide it's best to observe her. You watch as she sits there, looking around the park. She’s concentrating rather hard now that you think about it, and has yet to notice you. She’s scoping, memorizing the parkscape. The breeze around you kicks up and to your disdain, the bell on your neck sings quietly; filling the air with it’s lovely jingle. Cursing, you quickly grasp it, but your movements alone is enough to capture her full attention. She jumps up from the seat, standing cautiously as she eyes you. You smile at her; you’d been caught, and keep your hand over the bell to keep it from sounding once more. With you other hand you wave at her while she says nothing, her beautiful baby blues shimmering with alert.

“Um, hello there. Nice day today, isn’t it?”

You call out to her while you kick at the ground nervously. You feel the bench at your calves and lower both gloved hands to wipe clean the snow covered top. Sitting down on the bench carefully and slowly fold your hands on your lap; as to not alert her. You look back up at her and nearly bite your tongue to suppress a yelp. She had moved closer to your surprise, but there’s at least a few yards between the two of you.

A safe distance.

Hopefully.

“So… Just hanging out here by the water too?”

Her brow arches as she glances down at your face. Her brows furrow as her eyes slowly fall to your neck. A flicker of something crosses her face and your smile drops. She straightens up; causing you to sharply inhale at her sudden movements, catching you off guard.

“Why yes! I thought it was a pretty day to hang out by the park!”

She giggles as her boots burying themselves into the snow. She’s so full of energy, beaming with excitement in her voice. It’s… terrifying… to think back to what had happened, no, what had never happened before. She smiles as she tilts her head, the bow on her head flopping around as she moves. To your surprise, she before you suddenly with incredible speed. Before you can react, she pulls you to your feet upon grasping your tremblings hands. Since when were they shaking? You yelp as you step back, her smile dipping to a slight frown as she shakes your hand with vigor. She seems to ponder for but a moment, which gives you time to take a few paces back as she drops your hands.

She sighs as her one hand slips behind her back.

“Heh, it’s a pleasure to meet you too... scum of Southside. ”

She spits out the last of her sentence like venom as she points at you, more specifically your neck.

No… not your neck.

The choker!

“My name is Sovereign! Lead of the famous Crown Five, and I can’t let you escape!”

Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?

It just has to be here!

How could they be so forgetful? Huffing, Frisk crawls out of the limo’s back cabin with haste. Had they left it at home? It’s so unlike them, after all that has happened how could they just keep their weapon out of arm's reach? Let alone forget where they put it! Frisk pauses as their vision trails back into the limo. There's an unmistakable sparkle which gleams in the sun, clashing with the leather of the seats.

At least I had just saved.

“Agggghhhhhh!”

Wait, what?!

Frisk nearly stumbles over their own feet, swiveling their head around to face the park. That scream, that’s you! A lump catches in their throat, they thought they had more time. They squint and try to focus on-you’re not at the bench. sh*t. Leaping from the back of the limo, they bolt down the path. Nononono! You're not at the bench, that means-! Panic. Why is this happening? Wait. Today’s date! Reaching into their pocket, they pull out the notebook they used to communicate with you. Quite frantically, they flip to the very back- no, that can’t be today’s date! That’s why-! Slamming the booklet into their pocket, they quickly scan the-wait, there are your foot prints!

It’s been so long since I’ve made it this far, how could I forget!

Following the prints down the trail, they stop momentarily to eye an odd snow poff in the middle of the path. Keeping at their hastened pace, they come to a shed; probably used for park maintenance during summer. Pressing their back against the shed, they peak around the corner. Their blood rushes to their feet as their heart pulses in their chest.

You.

Her!

How could I forgotten today’s date?

“S-Stay back!”

Your lower lip is trembling.

“Now, now, I can’t do that.”

She tosses the knife in her hands as you step back, backed into the corner of the playground equipment. The metal, despite your jacket’s protection, it’s cold bites at you. A drop of sweat slides down your brow, your heart’s thundering echo screaming in your ears. Outside of a few scratches, no other injuries mar you. You had learned your lesson and had avoided the major parts of the slippery equipment, but you still ended up cornered. She; Sovereign as you remember, smiles and bounces on her feet. Even after chasing you, she doesn’t look the least bit tired.

“I-I, I don’t like this game.”

You plead.

She laughs.

“This stopped being a game long ago!”

She darts forward, swiping at you with great might.

You slide out of the way, the weapon barely nicking your jacket as it collides with the pole behind you. It momentarily stuns her as she stumbles back, shaking her hand. A newfound passion burns in her eyes and she scream in frustration. She lunges for you, a battle cry expressing itself from her lungs.

“This is my chance!”

Swipe

“To prove to them!”

Clash

“To prove to him! ”

Trip

“Ackk!”

Wham

You groan as you sit up, rubbing your forehe-!

The tip of the blade’s metal rest’s at your throat.

“I’ll prove to them that I deserve my name, my title.”

She smiles; it’s vile and manic nature souring your stomach, as she causes the bell to jingle. You look down at the blade with your eyes alone, then back up to meet hers. It’s happening again. She sneers as she swipes against the pendants at your neck. Her eyes narrow in distain as she raises her arm. Your knees lack the strength to move. Again. Your arms straining to hold you up from collapsing onto the ground. Again. You feel the snow beneath you seep into your pants as it melts, the cold burning into your sensitive skin.

Again.

“I’ll show Czar-

Again, her arm slices downwards.

Again, your chest aches.

Something must be done

The blade shimmers in the sun.

The world around you begins to darken.

Something must be done

You close your eyes.

Your head and chest throb concurrently.

Something must be done to stop ▒eles▒e !

“-I can HELP!”

CRSHHH

CLANKKK

“You?!”

Your eyes flutter open.

The world has returned to normal.

They will help you

“F-Frisk?!”

They will save you

They grunt; their heated breath mimicking that of an angered bull in the chilled air. Their arms remain strained as they hold back the blade with a thick branch. The blade, surprisingly, doesn’t even cut into the bark? A dull blade? Their boots grind into the snow covered ground as they push into each other, one trying to overpower the other. With a soundless cry, Frisk shoves forward and headbutts the girl in the face!

“Ng-gah!”

Her cry of pain pierces the air as Frisk shoves back the startled girl, who trips and falls onto her own bum in a heavy daze. Panting, they look back at you over their shoulder with a bewildered look upon them. They lower their stick; an odd but thankful choice of weapon. Their grip tightens for a moment as they look at their hand, a momentary act of reflection as they examine the weapon. They don’t look happy, but not at you, but of… themselves? Their actions? You stare, your chest heaving from the chase and near death experience. Again. Another child protecting you from an attack, by a different child. It’s hard to remember sometimes that mafia ties can run deep within families, even affecting the youngest in the bunch. Speaking of,

“F-Frisk, she’s part of the-!”

They nod, a sad expression upon their features as they silently cut you off. They… know? Turning, they offer you a hand once they toss the stick to the ground. Your gloved hand rests in theirs as you push yourself off the ground. Shakily you regain your composure and brush yourself off. You turn your attention to them, and they smile as you straighten out their cap. The wind picks up and you fix the flower pin on their cap’s brim. Much better. Relief descends upon you.

“T-Thank you Frisk-”

“-For forgetting about me!”

The color of your surrounding saps from the world; you feel like you're in a silent movie flick. Your head and chest pulsate as you gaze rises to meet with the speaker. Everything feels sluggish, as if slowed and weighted. You inhale. It’s Sovereign. She’s recovered. She’s standing, weapon drawn. You watch as Frisk turns on their heels, their eyes slowly widening in twisted shock and fear. Every second feels like ten as you reach forward to grasp Frisk’s shoulders. You can’t be too late. Frisk is reaching towards the stick. The girl is leaping towards them, weapon raised.

You exhale.

You can’t let Frisk die.

Color reaches your vision.

You won’t let Frisk die!

Souls.

Green.

And...

Gray?

“If I kill you-”

She’s shouting.

Your soul thrums as a radiant luminescence shines from it.

You wrap your arms around Frisk’s shoulder.

This is your decision

You tuck your head over theirs protectively.

“-I’ll show Czar I’m good enough to be his!”

“NO!”

Your path is chosen

CCCSHHHKKKKKK

“Wh-What?!”

She stumbles back; her face would be paling by the second, if it wasn’t already being tainted by the viridescent radiance ebbing from the power... the magic ... surrounding both Frisk and yourself. A barrier. A magical barrier shielding you from her strike. Your eyes do not stray as you stare, unblinking, directly at the girl’s soul. It’s gray, darkening towards the center… like a… like a black hole...

“W-What is this!”

She demands as she points her weapon towards you in challenge, yet she has taken a pace backwards. Frisk, now looking towards you, is unlike the girl’s reaction of fear. They are not afraid, infact… they seem... happy? Your vision blurs for but a second, clearing up again as the dark part of your mind remains concentrating on the power. This feeling of magic swelling within you. You slowly stand, removing your arms from Frisk’s defense. Your hand raises, swirling with the verdant streams of magic.

“Leave.”

Your voice, it’s so... hollow. Frisk reaches up, tugging at your jacket. Your eyes remain unchanging, emeralds unblinking as your pants echo in the darkness. Frisk’s brows furrow as they attempt to calm you down, they can see you weakening by the second. You're… you're fading. This magic is… is too much for you. They glance between you and her, reaching down quickly to snatch the stick for some sort of defense. This needs to end, and end fast!

“N-No! This is my… my chance! I can’t pass it up! I can’t wait any longer!”

She cries and leaps forward. The girl raises her arm to strike again-she freezes. All movement completely halted.

“Eghh… it… it hurts…!”

She clutches her chest, the knife hanging weakly at her side by her other hand.

Her soul… it’s trembling.

“Leave!”

Your command causes her to delay her current actions, but then turns away into a quick sprint. Into the darkness, the world swallows her in shadows. She... has been spared. The world slowly regains color, the blackness fading away to reveal the setting sun. Frisk watches as your soul slows its quivers to a halt, the magic once surrounding it fading back into its depths. The soul floats for a moment and then returns to your chest, nestled within your bosom. Upon it’s return, you fall to your knees, gasping for air heavily with beads of sweat falling down your brow. You hear something, someone? The world is muffled at the moment, like someone holding their hands over your ears. Your eyes remain unfocused as they stare at the ground, Frisk’s boots fading in and out of your vision. You feel their hand rest on your shoulder, bracing you against them as you collapse. Darkness welcomes itself as you feel yourself fade away into an unwelcome sleep.

Frisk takes a deep breath, exhaling as they feel their own nerves calm down. No doubt… no doubt they were going to get in a bit of trouble for this. The sound of crunching snow draws them alert as they grasp the stick in their hand. Pointing it in the direct of the noise-oh, it’s just him. He comes over and picks your body up, your head falling to rest upon his shoulder. Huffing, his glowing eyes turn to Frisk with a look of mild disappointment, and amusem*nt.

“gez… bucko… you sure know how to get in lotsa trouble, don’t cha?”

Hah… just a little bit.

...

...

...

...

File Saved.

Chapter 22: A Different Perspective, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“Oh… o-oh no… I’m going to be in t-trouble. I knew I shouldn’t have stayed up all night reading. Ohhh… if only I had stayed up just an-an hour longer! I would have been able to record the fluctuation myself!”

It's all calm and quite outside of a shy scientist's worry filled bantering. It's true; had she gone to bed on time and not at the wee early hours of the morning, the one known as Alphys would be quite happier than her current mood. Her bare feet swing under the desk, her sleepy expression just barely mirrored in the blinking monitor. It may be the mid-afternoon, but she had only just gotten out of bed. Heck, she hadn’t even had time to start cooking her noodles before she noticed the alert on the screen.

“Let's see here… sensor A in region six… it reads seven... seventeen? Yes. Seven seventeen this morning… yes, the time fluctuation appeared... there. Mark red. Yet, hm… six fifty… appears twice. Mark green… and this one too... Errmm… oh dear… this isn't as bad as a few days ago but still… it’s at least... worth noting...”

Scratching her chin, she ponders as she quickly types away notes with her other hand. She runs a hand over her head to wipe away beads of sweat; claws scratching against her golden scales. Perhaps; she glances over to the phone on her wall, she should call and inform… no! No no no, haha don't be silly-use the phone why should she use the phone no way haha-well she probably should to keep everyone in the loop but that means having to dial the direct number to speak with anyone important to receive the message that actually cares about the project she’s been working so hard on and-and-and that requires dialing the direct number and speaking SPEAKING SPEAKING NO No no with a PERSON using the number um which uh starts with an eightorisitanine... ohnodidshewriteitdownorwhatifshemisplacedthenumberandnowshehasnowaytoletanyoneknow- !

Knock knock

…

Um.

W-Who could that be?

Turning in her chair, she quickly presses a security camera to display just outside the door. One of her own personal inventions to help keep her safe after last month's issues. The knocking continues, steadily getting louder and she waits for the screen to load. Huffing to herself, she begins to feel nerves bite at her. T-They wouldn’t be back? Would they? So soon? She leaps up from her chair and quickly scrambles behind her bookshelf, reaching for her emergency-! Where is it?! No no no!

CRASH

Panicking as the door flies open-no wait, it flies off it’s hinges! The clatter of the heavy metal door hitting the concrete floor echoes in the laboratory as she does her best to muffle her scream of shock. Suppressing her cough, she whips her head around to best to see through her dust covered lenses. Ducking behind bookshelf, she covers her face. Dust flutters everywhere like ungrateful butterflies migrating within her lovely lab. They came back! They are going to ransack her again! Last time she hadn’t been home, but now she’s here! She does her best to spark her electric magic in her hands, but nothing in her sheer panic is able to last more than just a flicker at her fingertips.

A shadow looms over her.

They are back.

She shivers and shakes.

Crown Five.

Fear wells up in her.

They are back.

Hide. Quiet. Survive.

Hide. Quiet. Survive.

Hide. Quiet. Survi-!

She feels a hand on her wrinkled collar and she freezes in place. Hide. She squeals and throws her hands over her face as some sort of protection. Quiet. Slowly, with a surprising amount of strength, she feels herself being lifted into the air. She is not a fighter! In her moment of panic, she cries out to the one person she knows as her hero.

Survive.

“Help meee! Save meeeee!”

Arms flailing before her.

“Alphys!”

A harsh voice demands.

“They got me! Help! Someone! Undyneeeee!”

She screeches an echo of terror.

“Um… Alphys?”

“HELPPPPPP!”

“ALPHYS! IT'S ME DAMNIT!”

...

The yellow lizard falls quiet. Carefully she reaches up to wipe off her dirty glasses; it makes a tiny squeak-squeak noise as her fingers rub the lenses. Slowly but surely, a certain favorite shade of blue and a sharp toothed grin falls into her vision spectrum. Her worry and panic melts away into a great sigh of relief. Still dangling in the air, she nervously pokes her fingers together as her face flushes into a scarlet warmth. A boisterous laugh fills the air as her feet make contact with the floor.

“Fufufufu, Alphys you damn nerd, couldn't you see me?”

Alphys remains silent as she feels herself get lowered to the floor. Before her stands not only the head guardswoman of the governor, but her secret crush.

“H-Hello C-Captain, ma’am, how are you t-today?”

“Alphysss… I told you to stop calling me that! Makes me sound all official and crap. It's just Undyne. No need for all of that business crud when I'm around!”

“R-Right! S-Sorry…”

She chuckles and leans against the adjacent desk, watching as Alphys quickly hustles over to the fallen door. She watches with sharp canary eyes as Alphys goes about fixing the door. The machines around come to life and work to put the door in its home. Hastily, the short monster scrambles to find new bolts for the door and re-bolts it to the awaiting hinges. Undyne smirks pridefully as she watches the machines struggle momentarily to lift the door she easily knocked astray. Be it, in the long run that probably wasn’t the smartest move. The door was just reinforced after the fiasco last, what? Two weeks ago?

Psh.

Not a good defence if even she could knock it down with one good kick.

Huffing, Undyne loosens her all too formal maroon tie that's been her collar to her job. Nearly strangling her neck and rubbing against the sensitive slits, she finally frees herself and allows the cloth to dangle around her neck. Oh, that’s much better; she can already feel the tension falling from her. She cracks her neck as she begins to ease back against the desk’s frame. One of the few places in this crazy world she finds solace in is within Al’s lab; it’s quiet, has entertainment, yummy food, and most importantly…

“P-Perfect!”

Her.

Claws work at the top buttons of her black dress shirt and she feels the cool laboratory air kiss at her darkened azure skin. Just above her cleavage she halts, glancing back up at Alphys. Perhaps, she shouldn’t be too forward… not just yet… Her cuffs she struggles with for but a moment, rolling them up her arms to the elbow with ease. Her forearm muscles flex, just perfect. What else, what else? Hair! She reaches up and hesitates, spotting Alphys peeking over her shoulder.

No wait, she’s looking over at the... monitor screen?

Alphys wrinkles her brow and turns her head back down to focus on the bottom screw.

Phew.

Undyne carefully unwraps her red locks from its ribbon confine, allowing the ruby waterfall to cascade upon her shoulders. Running a quick hand against her scalp, she inwardly purrs. It feels amazing. Be it she often keeps her hair up for the purpose of training and being on guard, she rarely takes her hair down even within her own home. Force of habit? Probably. No reason other than for efficiency. Her feline-esque eyes soften as she watches over her companion.

It's just… well...

Alphys loves to play with it.

She just loves running her claws through the scarlet locks, just barely scratching at her scalp.

A shiver passes over the Captain.

She misses the touch.

f*ck, she’s like a love sick puppy, craving for attention.

The machines screech to a slow halt as Alphys makes the final adjustments to the door. Carefully testing the locking mechanism; oh good, the bolt did not bend like last time. Wiping her brow, she turns off the machines and puts away her equipment. Now she can go back to focusing on the monitor-

“Ahem?”

She twists around with a yelp. Her lower jaw trembles as her eyes lock onto the beautiful monster before her. O-Oh, wow. A sheen of sweat befalls the shorter one, her fingers twiddling together as she silently gazes upon the beauty before her. Long legs dressed in the most dapper of business suits, her dress shirt opened to reveal the chiseled-oh! Oh dear, oh no, she’s been staring. Her face glows a glorious scarlet as she looks down at her fingers.

Undyne chuckles under her breath, had she already forgot she was there?

Leaning forward, a bright fanged smile upon her facade, her claw caresses against the cheek of the nervous scientist.

“Alphys?”

“Y-Yes?”

“...You’re drooling.”

“W-What?!”

Flusterly she scatters away in shame, wiping at her mouth with the back of her sleeve. Undyne belts out a muffled cackle behind her hand, oh she just loves to unnerve her. Hurrying to her computer, Alphys jumps up onto the chair to quickly save her work. Yes, that’s it. Not to ignore Undyne’s… ness? Nope. Not at all. None what’s so ever.

A game?

Undyne snickers.

She was always one for a challenge.

“So… how’s things been here? Things have been pretty busy since everything… ya’know… with their kid and all. G’s place has been pretty chaotic too. Someone placed a hit and thankfully it was avoided. Still getting all the details on that though. Something about someone intervening, still awaiting the full report. The dogs are all watchin’ over the governor’s house now, so it gave me a break today.”

…

Undyne is met by the sounds of typing.

Right.

“Which… ya know… is nice. So I can hang out with you... and all.”

…

The typing has stopped.

“What’s the crap you’re so busy working on anyway?”

“O-Oh, this. This is nothing. Just um, w-working on tracking for D-Doctor G-!”

An arm snakes around her shoulders as she feels a body lean over top of her, eyeing the screen.

“Oh yeah! You mentioned this last time. The uh… time… animals right?”

…

Srnk.

“N-No Undyne! Not time animals, time anomalies! Heheheh!”

A smile of protruding fangs can not be seen above the lizard's head.

“Yeah time anomalies thing, that’s what I meant. Still looking into them?”

“Yes, I’ve been tracking the past few days as I have noticed a spike in time change as well as peculiar magics. At times they do not seem to correlate, at other times they do. However, it’s always very similar. The magic actually reminds me of your green magic.”

Now this catches Undyne’s attention.

“Oh?”

Slipping from Undyne’s grasp; Undyne’s hands naturally try to pull her back but she narrowly misses, swiping at the air. The scientist rushes over to some print outs as she shuffles and pushes dirty plates to the side; okay, maybe she does need to clean up a bit, but finally she pulls free a few long papers with readings on them.

“You see Undyne, in the past two days I’ve noticed two influxes of green magic. Spikes in the radar, the magic seems very… er… for lack of a better word, raw.”

Alphys ponders for a moment, eyes flickering between two papers.

One of time readings, the other of magic.

Odd, they seem to have a pattern to them.

“Well, that’s odd.”

A claw swipes the papers from betwixt her small hands, she flinches back as she watches the taller one eye over the reading.

Can she even understand them?

“W-Well, yes. Odd is a good word for it. I-I, uh, d-don’t mean to bore you with su-uh, such information.”

Alphys pokes her fingers together.

Undyne wouldn’t care about this stuff.

“Nah, it’s interesting.”

She tosses the papers behind her, much to Alphys’s chagrin.

“Now though…”

!

A claw rests under her chin, tilting her head back.

Looking up, the scientist shrinks away as Undyne’s face nears.

“E-Er, U-Undyne…”

“Come on Alphys… I don’t get to see my favorite scientist often…”

A wave of embarrassment mixed with sorrow washes over her as she kicks her bare feet at the chilled floor. Her eyes waver, but her face remains glancing upward under the strength of just a single finger of Undyne’s hold. Yes, she has been quite busy lately. The determination pill project, combined with all of the extra work given to her has had her stressed beyond reason. So terribly busy. It doesn’t help that she seems to have misplaced her precious notes about the determination formula.

Wait, f-favorite scientist?

“I-I, I know... I’m s-sorry.”

“Heh, you should keep a spare set of notes or something. I mean, you have this huge thingamabob here for a reason, right? Oh, don’t get all huffy on me, just makes ya look adorable.”

“Mrfff, s-shush...you always s-say such n-nice things…”

Alphys never knows what to say in return to Undyne’s kind words; besides she means them in platonic way of course, cause they are just friends!

Just friends.

Friends.

A glance upwards from her thoughts and she squeals, Undyne’s face just centimeters from her own.

A step forward, the Captain draws closer.

“...Alphys, I’ve been meaning to say how cute you look today. Are those new… uh… glasses?”

She’s doing it again, the kind words. She nears, dipping her head forward, sharp fangs hidden by supple lips. Alphys feels her soul thundering and her face begin to sweat. The perfect creature before her. Lips of ruby red among a sea of gorgeous blue. How she yearns to kiss them, to feel them against her… her own lips. Her lips which naturally match her scales. Her...

Bland.

Plain.

Ugly.

Nothing to compare to that of Undyne.

Undyne’s eyes flare with a prowess that Alphys herself could never possibly feel.

“Or have you done something to your lab coat, it looks all uh, bright white and not so uh…broth... stained?”

Oh, the internal cringe.

Undyne inwardly grinds her sharp teeth and keeps up the fake confidence. This is so not her realm of expertise, and she really shouldn't have gotten dating tips from the dweeb and his stupid date book!

Alphy seems to sweat more as she looks everywhere but at her, avoiding any and all eye contact.

“I-I, u-um, t-thank y-you?”

Now she has her stuttering back.

Great.

f*ck this.

Black leather boots grind into the ground with a powerful step forward, she leans against the small one, pinning Alphys before her. No escaping. Her left arm reaches forth, clawing at the desk behind her prey. No escape. She leans in with a bit of hesitation, her eyelids lowering to a soft gaze. Alphy’s luscious golden lips, she; no, her soul, hungers for them. For the passion she knows are hidden behind them. The passion she has when she speaks about her hobbies, her research… her...

“M-Meep! Uh-Undyne-!”

“Shhh… come here... my favorite scientist…”

She’s drawing closer.

Oh, oh god!

She’s-!

She’s going to k-kiss-!

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

W-WHAT?!

BAM

“Ah f*ck! Alphys, the hell?!”

With surprising dexterity, she weaves around the ailing Captain of the Governor’s guard, who’s now flat on her ass holding her nose. Headbutted. She got co*ckblocked by a goddamn electronic! Again! At least this time this electronic didn’t have an annoying and overly co*cky ghost host.

“Tsk, ow. f*ck, that’s gonna bruise.”

Okay, lesson learned, Alphys has a really thick skull.

In more ways than one.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

“It’s happening!”

“...Eh?”

Back in the chair, eyes focused in on the messages popping up on the screen, all Undyne can do is sit and watch; softly palpating her throbbing noggin. Alphys; not even feeling anything, she begins to furiously type away. A different thundering aches her soul as she panics to quickly record the information. A time anomaly? Another? So soon? Was it recorded?

A rather large blip in fact on the radar, stemming from Southside Central.

It’s been recorded!

“Undyne! Quick! Grab paper, I need you to write some information. Stat!”

Well, Alphys taking charge, she could get used to this.

Scrambling to do as the yellow one said, she listens in and writes what is demanded of her. With no stutter, with an air of bravado, Alphys barks on coordinates, times, and other mumbo jumbo Undyne just goes with. It’s pretty damn sexy, Undyne can’t help but to admit.

“Time. Five-fifteen post meridiem.”

Scribble. Scribble.

“Turn back, mark, four-fifty five post meridiem.”

Scribble.

“Magical surge recorded at five o’five! Look at it! The flare up! It’s huge! It’s not, it can’t be a coincidence! Same location!”

Spouts of statistics leave Undyne in the dust of confusion. Alphys takes over not long after, thanking her “assistant” profusely. After retrieving the data from Undyne’s hands, the “assistant” takes a moment to truly look at the magic. Wow, it really does remind her of her own. Be it, she rarely ever uses her green magic, preferring more of the offensive magic than defensive. Mostly just to keep someone still, really helps with the healing process when a fussy dickwad doesn’t want to be treated, or the dog guard refuse to get their shots.

Or, ya’know, when she needs to beat the sh*t out of someone for trespassing the governor’s grounds.

Whatever. Same difference.

“This green magic is... terribly advance. Huh.”

“Y-Yes, surprisingly so. A-Anyone you have ever met?”

Alphys wouldn’t know, she rarely leaves her laboratory. The scary thing is, it’s not any Undyne has met before. A scary, yet thrilling opponent she has yet to meet. Her knuckles crack as her fists form within her crossed arms. Oh, oh, this could be fun.

“U-Undyne, your smile is scaring me.”

“Oh? Heh, sorry Al-”

DING

Dashing up, Alphys quickly begins to gather reports. Undyne watches confused and leans against the computer desk. There one second, gone the next; Alphys darts up the stairs, then back down. A flurry of papers rains down onto the floor and Alphys in a state of haste, quickly picks them up. Undyne just smirks, watching the plump tail swing around. Like teasing a kitten with string. She always loves Al's tail, it looks squishy. When she gets a chance, next time they get along time together, she’s going to try and cuddle it.

Or die trying damnit.

“Done!”

Alphys finally stops by the monitor and prints some final pages out, stuffing them into a file.

Wait, done?

“I’llbebackIhavetoruntothedoctor’splacehandinpaperscan’tbelateI’msorryUndyneI’llseeyoulaterhaveagreatdayohdearmaybeIcancatchthebusnotimeI’llgrabacabatthecornerokayloveyoubyeUndyne!”

BANG

The front door slams shut.

…

What…?

Quiet buzzing fills the air.

What just...happened?

…

“Oh, god damnit!”

Boots pound into ground, scarlet hair tossing about with frustration. This was her only chance! Her only two days off in a row before she had to go back to guard duty for the next month! She can’t just let things end here. Address, she needs an address to the main laboratory. She glances over at the papers to her right, her soul pulsating in her chest as she spots her name... and Alphys name… drawn in hearts around the edges of the paper…

“...Alphys…”

No.

Alphys did have feeling for her too!

She knew it!

“Ngahhh! You know what!”

A fist is thrown into the air.

“Screw this! I am Undyne, Head Captain of the Governor's Guard!”

Tying her hair back to its high stance upon her crown, a fanged grin displayed across her face.

“I willbe the onE TO PILE ON THE SMOOCHES!”

With a bellowing roar of might, she’s prepared for battle.

A fight for the one she cares so deeply about.

A war of love she can, she must, endure, and conquer!

“NGAHHHH!”

The front door slams open, it’s poor frame cracking from the sheer force. She dashes out the lab’s front door, pumped with vigor. Concrete grinds below her feet as she dashes into action. She can’t be that far away. She couldn’t have gotten into her ride that quickly. Not at rush hour. The streets are too busy around this time. She peels around a corner, careful as to not slip on any black ice. She has to be this way!

Eyes dart about.

Where, where!?

A glimpse of her golden sunshine.

Alphys is just a block forth, at the corner, just steps before the crosswalk. She’s not moving, yet, no cars on the street. She’s going to cross. Going to get away. Why is there no crowd to slow her?! Just her damn luck! She withholds a shout as she comes running up the path, her eyes narrowed in on the woman like prey.

Her prey.

“ALPHYS!”

The lizard, once frozen; jumps about.

Eyes wide behind disheveled glasses.

Her face a pale shade daffodil.

“U-Undyne!”

Worry.

She grips the scientist’s shoulders.

Panic.

“Alphys I-!”

Fear.

“...U-Undyne...”

What is she even doing?

“Alphys I wanted-”

She has to.

“...U-Undyne...”

Can’t regret.

“Yeah, Alphys?”

“Run.”

BANG

Chapter 23: Step In The Right Direction, Sometimes

Chapter Text

“you’re so grounded, coffee will envy you.”

Huff.

Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.

“kid, come on. i’m too lazy to transcribe your scribble.”

Sigh.

Snap. Flick. Click. Chatter. Chatter.

“huh, no kid-din’? heheh.”

...

“come’on, don’t give me that look.”

Snap. Flick. Click. Click. Clap.

“...uh, seriously?”

Snap. Snap. Flick. Click.

“well, at least i know yous was tellin’ the truth ‘bout before.”

Chatter. Chatter. Click.

Hesitate.

“...kid?”

...

“i can tell when ya holdin’ back. what was the cause of loadin’ your save this time?”

Hesitate.

Clap.

Wave.

“...f*ck, ya serious frisk?”

Nod. Point.

“green?”

Nod.

“ ...so… it really wasn’t a dream back at then, hm? ya had to load a save back then too?”

Hesitate.

Slow nod.

“bucko, you really need to stop spyin’ on sh*t when ya’supposed to be sleepin’.”

He dabs the sweat off his forehead as he glances around.

His eye lights fall to the bed.

“well, glad I ‘ported up to ya when i did. she’d be dead otherwise, wouldn’t she?”

Snap. Clap. Clap.

“the last one was that long ago? ya know boss asks you to save at least once a night, if not every other. give’s me less of a headache if it’s just a short jump back.”

Quiet groan and a shuffle of shoes across carpet.

“this girl... really likes gettin’ herself in trouble, don’t she?”

Sigh. Shrug. Point.

“eh, don’t blame yourself. it’s not like ya knew the crown girl was gonna be there, right?”

Hesitate. Sideways glance.

Frown.

“...oh.”

Silence.

“ya, i guess it's been a while since ya got this far, hm? well, kid, at least she’s safe now."

…

Snap. Click. Flick. Flick.

“kid, don’t worry ‘bout it. sometimes... ya just gotta let things happen.”

Open mouth.

Close mouth.

Bite lip.

“...kid?”

Shake head.

Point.

“kid, what were you-?”

Knock Knock

Someone is at the door.

“eh? who’s there?”

Snicker.

The door slams opens.

“SANS NOW IS NOT THE TIME!”

It’s Papyrus.

“...sans now is not the time, who? ”

Bite lip.

Giggle.

Stomps of boots hitting the floor.

“SANS WE HAVE BEEN SUMMONED! BOSS SAID IT WAS QUITE URGENT!”

“ok, geez bro. i’m commin’. ‘ey kiddo, let her rest.”

Glance.

Hesitate.

“Come along Frisk! We can't keep Boss waiting!”

A gloved hand grasps their own.

Hesitate.

Crinkle. Crinkle.

Place.

Sharp nod.

“Excellent! Let’s go!”

Glance back.

Gentle smile.

Determination

…

…

…

Well, that was rather exciting, was it not?

A shallow groan.

“...Erm… ugh… my chest…”

A moment.

A steady breath.

Rest easy young one, you have been through quite a lot.

Your eyes flutter open to see a rather recognizable dimly lit room. Yes, this is… Frisk’s room? You curse and slowly sit up, the blanket once covering you falls from your chest. Eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room, your mouth salivates as you spy a crimson monster candy on the bed stand. Reaching forward, a racking stiffness strikes your body. Oh f*ck, did you sleep on concrete? Come on. Just a little more. Got it! Fussing with the crinkling protective plastic, you are able to finally pop it into your mouth. Just from the contact on your tongue alone, a pleasant buzz spreads throughout your body and your mind. Your brain seems to clear from its fog and you take a moment to rub your eyes. Yes, so much better. With better sight you glance down upon yourself. You are relatively... okay. It seems you are only in a long gray sweater and your… oh, who the hell changed you this time?!

Of all things, this is your first thoughts?

“...”

You glance around the room.

Nobody is here.

I am a somebody, but a ‘nobody’ is quite true as well!

Oh ho ho, the short skeleton would enjoy that one!

A gentle laughter fills your mind and you grasp at your head, it’s echoing between your ears. Your legs curl up towards your chest, head pounding as you adjust to waking and such a similar… yet foreign sounding voice. The laughter dies away as you feel a gaze upon you. Yet, no one is here when you look upon the room. Toys, clothing, a pair or two of shoes, a few bags by the entrance door. No one. A tug at your chest has you gasping, your body feeling extra sensitive for some reason. Why were you even in bed? Why… what’s happened?

My apologies. It is just nice to be acknowledged in this realm once more.

“Who… Who's there? Please, show yourself!”

You speak rather harshly, a bit of panic in your voice. The floating soul before you; your soul, quivers with its brilliant emerald. Your breath catches in your throat as you squint. Has this… darkness? Has this darkness always been within you soul? A wispy gray glow exits the center of your soul, and slowly but surely, a form begins to fill your vision. You do not shy away. Why do you not fear it? Curiosity? Your soul returns to its full normal glow, no sign of any tainting thus far. The form begins to normalize; it’s… a hooded figure? Yet, you can tell it is humanoid. The figure bends forward, bowing?

Greetings and salutations.

Thank you for housing me and once again freeing me. My name is ▒-ugh…

The figure lurches forward, grasping at its chest?

Was that-? Yes, you recognize that static sound.

“I know you, are... are you okay?”

Y-Yes… H-Hah… Seems that… that I am still not quite as grounded as I once thought.

“G-Grounded? What, who are you? Why, why were you hiding in my soul? What is going on!”

Please do calm yourself. Our soul is still recovering.

“...O-Our... soul?”

...Ah…

...Yes… you see… well...

Silence fills your head as you see the shadow creature before you shift about. You can feel it, they are nervous. They wish to speak, yet are unsure of their voice. You feel this. You reach your hand forward. You are trembling. You do not feel fear, you are not too sure what you feel. Just out of reach, you hand stalls in the air. The figure hesitates and, despite looking like nothing more than condensed smoke, you see it turn away. It shivers and you watch as to what seems to be its arms grasps at its own chest.

To answer you …

It, she, whatever this shadow is, pauses as to think. A beat of silence. A moment that lasts terribly too long. A sigh, she’s trying to formulate words. You gulp as you see the creature turn to you. It's stare is cast low, something like a hood covering most of its façade. It's one arm outstretched towards you, still more cloth covers its figure. Your arm that hangs in the air; once offering comfort, retracts to your chest. Fear? She speaks upon taking a deep breath; does it need to breath?

...Thou art I...

She points to herself, a hint of despair within her voice paints a better picture of her predicament.

... andI art thou…

“...?”

It is your time to fall silent, you eyes flickering about in disbelief. You mind swims as a wave of confusion washes over you. You shift to stand before the figure. The shadow figure stands just a fraction taller than you, otherwise their structure seemed, well, very similar to your own. The image before you shifts like ink spilled in thin air, it’s darkness seeming to attempt to place its hand on your shoulder. Attempted at least, you do not feel a weight, but the action you do appreciate.

It is quite hard to explain, as my own memories have faded with time.

The child, Ch… Frisk. Frisk may be able to fill in the memories for which I have forgotten.

They have been at this for quite awhile.

“I, I, er, I still do not understand. What does Frisk...? I, I don’t get it. Just, what are you um, other… me?”

To… to the best of my recollections… I am... was… once part of a flourishing kingdom.

A kingdom of mankind. Powerful and expanding across the lands. I, I was… a royal mage.

A sorceress.

Yes, one of seven others, we were a committee of all ages and backgrounds.

We… we were the protectors of many kings and queens, of the people.

P… Protectors...

Her voice wavers as the shadow slinks away. Your chest aches with a heavy weight. Guilt? You follow; not much by choice, it's as if there’s a leash connecting your soul to them. The other you sighs quietly and seems to step over to a door you recognize before. It’s not the one leading to the bathroom. She turns and seems to still in thought. A shift in her form shows her resting what you assume to be her hand upon the door. Your soul surges as jade essence seeps out like a toxic ooze. The said oozing jade evaporates and, to your shock, appears on the door like paint to a canvas. With a wave of her hand, an outline of a picture slowly reveals itself like a sketch. First, a circle. Next, wings seem to flutter out across the wood. Her finger taps three times against the hard wood door; tap, tap, tap. You watch as three triangles appear where her touch made contact with the face.

The symbol of protection among all of monster kind.

Yes, you’ve seen this… before?

“The... Del… Delta... Rune, yes?”

Correct, yes, I am glad to see you remember the… well, dream would be the best to call it such.

After your… incident with my magic, you slowly began to rebuild the tether force with I despite its… faulty state.

Tether… force? What?

“Incident..? Please explain.”

The symbol on the door begins to brighten, this may take a minute.

Oh? Ah, yes, the incident. Frisk… I will let them explain that detail.

However, when you first came to the defense of the smart one, you strove forward, filled with the great force of determination.

Yet, it was not enough.

You were quite overpowered, I feared all was for nothing.

I questioned you, asking, what is it that you were doing?

What could you even do?

My mind… hah… Yet, you still went forward.

It was… a fascinating display of strength.

Your soul twinges before you as you close your eyes. Remembering, or at least trying to.

The hellish creature had gone mad.

Yet, I watched in the recesses of your soul as the creature unleashed its rage upon us.

It was too late. I watched, tiredly, giving up once more.

This would not be the first time I had watched my host fall.

What, what does she mean? Host?

Alas, at the last second… when our soul was to shatter.

I, we, awoke once more. We were stepping into the secret garden, oh dear, may we please return there?

It was so pleasant and lively. It reminds me that of a garden my old fri-mmh…

Nevermind.

A thought for another time.

The glow of the door intensifies, it’s almost complete.

We repeated our actions, yet, with a twist and change in manner.

Learning from our past mistakes to change our future and the future of others.

I spoke to you, attempting to guide you. W

e found a spy lingering in the shadows above, watching from the window like a young maiden trapped in the castle tower.

In all of my time, I had never had the chance to change my own mistakes. To watch your redone actions was...

Invigorating.

The creatures hooded head looks down at what you assume is its hands.

You… you changed me. DareI say, inspired?

Nevermore was I to give up.

This is my chance.

My chance to finally take action!

My chance to change the actions to which I have regret through every life!

Your soul is trembling, you feel tears in the corners of your eyes. Those are not your tears.

I watched as you thrust yourself into harm’s way.

The way our body moved so naturally to aide a comrade in danger.

A maneuver I had done in my youth to protect countless companions.

We threw our arms out! We looked death in its very eyes!

Other you sharply turns, and to your surprise… you see two shining viridescent eyes!

“ That's enough!”

You can barely recall shouting this. Yet, the memory is there. Just… fuzzy. She continues and gains a stronger voice with every sentence. Your eyes meet and you feel your soul flutter. Your chest pounds as your heart throbs with excitement ebbing from the shadow.

We had shouted as I finally felt a serene freedom pulsate through our soul.

Your actions…

Your kindness!

It unlocked the spell contract upon our soul!

It freed me; my thoughts, my scattered memories, spilling upon you like that of a river flooded by the spring's rains!

The emotions she is exhibiting hits your chest heavily. Raw emotion. Your throat locks up. Your face falls as now it’s your turn to stare at your own hands. Had… had you really done all of that? The shadow hands cup your own.

It… must of been quite overwhelming… as I remember we woke up hours later.

For that, I do apologies… however, my dear, you made me realize it’s not too late.

Please, we have set into motion a terrifying yet tremendous path for this chrono-stream!

We must take actions, calculate our next steps!

The glowing behind the shadow brightens, blinding you momentarily. You resist the urge to scream. Your arms reflexively draw up to protect yourself. Palms outward, you feel an odd tingling in your fingers. You shift back, tensing up as the world seems to fall mute. All quiet, but for her echoing voice in your mind.

We must fix the mistakes of my time’s past.

Behind your closed eyes, you see the brightness of the room fade… as if it was never there. You hear a creaking in the silent room; the door? You lower your hands, the static feeling having disappeared with the bright light. The door is open, the symbols on the door no more. A cold chill rushes over you, a bead of sweat dripping down your brow. Your eyes shift warily around the barren room...

Barren.

Empty.

The shadow is gone.

Chapter 24: Welcome Back...

Chapter Text

...To Underground City....

---- March 2017 ----

Image By:The Badass Artist Tomis~! (NSFW 18+ Blog)

Chapter 25: Two Sides of the Same Coin

Chapter Text

“I must say… this is quite a disappointment, Sovereign.”

“I-I, know, please, let me expl-!”

“Silence.”

The early morn’ has just been graced with the kiss of the sun. The Palace has yet to warm under it’s grace, yet, it is quite heated already on the inside. The Throne room; where quite often meetings are held at night, has already been greeted by the not-so-happy members of the Crown Five. At the end of the large oak table, dressed in the dim and flickering light, stands a crestfallen Sovereign. Disappointment, and a tinge of fear, mars her features. Her bright blue eyes cast downwards, unable to meet the eyes of her fellow gang members.

To her right sits Baron. His demeanor is of that of a child scolded out of bed on an early Saturday morning, despite it being the weekend. His golden fevered gaze rests only upon that of his hand, laced around what a child should not be drinking on the weekends; a glass of whiskey. In his defense, he declared it was 5 o’clock somewhere, after all? Right? Right. A resounding clunk vibrates the table as once again Baron nurses his glass. His other hand shifts his olden western hat over his eyes, defending his hangover vision from the watchful eye of the light above. Just why did they have to meet so early in the morning?

Beside him, rests an empty chair. Sovereign can only hope that this one day will be hear seat… if yesterday hasn’t messed up her chances to begin with. Across the way, a double dose of judgement watches Baron’s movements with annoyance. Empress clings to the arm of Monarch, her gorgeous sapphire nails clashing against his always worn lab coat. Empress wears her annoyance of Baron’s early morning drink across her sleep deprived eyes. Monarch; on the contrary, eyes remain stoic behind his filth riddled frames. Out of habit, he removes the frames once more to rub them on his sleeve to attempt to clear them up. It does work.

Then there is Czar. At the head of the table, his elbows dig into the wooden frame. If not for the velvet scarlet tablecloth softening the blow, the wooden frame would give under the pressure. The only sound that cascades through the walls of the room is that of Czar’s rapping knuckles as he ponders; his ever present leather gloves shimmering with each muscle shift beneath it. His gaze; his stern auburn gaze, does not wane from staring down her small figure.

“‘Ey. I say we give ‘er a break. It wassa her first mission after all, yeah?”

Baron is the first to speak up.

He chugs down the rest of his whiskey, the burning heat churning his belly as he sits up further, His cattleman’s chapeau slipping to the side. Sovereign cringes inward, she doesn’t need a drunken man to defend her. The rapping of the knuckles stalls. Her breath hitches as she chances a glance upwards. Her baby blues lock onto hardened gold. A flickering taste of copper fills her mouth as she realizes she has been biting her inner cheek.

“And how’sa I sees it, Czar didn’t you puss* out on your first mission froms what I heard?”

Why is Baron still talking!

“I says she did better than you, you f*ckin’ cow-umph! Cemesse? Yumph beaoch.”

Sovereign's hand; be it shaky, clamps down across the whiskey sodden lips of the blabbering fool. However, she nearly falls claim to the fist of the easily angered leader. He’s fast; Czar already on his feet. His arm muscles taunt to attack. No one had even heard his chair screech backwards against the marble flooring. A lip curled back in a snarl; the wolf seems ready to strike at the throat of the drunken, unsuspecting lamb. Celeste; still but a child, stands as a sheepdog pup trying to imitates it’s elders. It’s failing.

“Pardon me, gentlemen? Some of us have research and a whiny so-called scientist to attend to. Perhaps a recap is in order? My dear, if you would?”

Monarch, unphased by the antics, and despite how much he would love to witness Czar trounce Baron silly… he does have work to return to. Monarch’s nearly black eyes hover over the hand of Co… Empress. Empress. He can’t let his sleepy mind wander. Empress’s eyes sparkle at his address and she leaves his embrace to rise to her heels, her elegant imported Prussian Blue satin robe radiates with every sway of her movements. She picks up her glass of water and takes a sip, leaving behind a ruby kiss along the rim. Sovereign can’t help but to roll her eyes but a bit. Who even wears lipstick this early in the morning? Empress, that’s who.

“Well, yesterday was quite an eventful day for all of us. As we know, Baron and Monny darling had a prosperous day. In the afternoon; while I was enjoying my beauty nap before getting ready for the show, Baron and his boys were watching over what we had suspected to be the Southside gang’s off-site lab for the determination. Wouldn’t you know it? Those slimes were really making it, out in the open, not a defense! Well… kind of. They didn’t account for, believe it or not, the lead guard of Dreemurrs’ being there! It was a marvelous two birds, one stone! Oh, ho ho ho!”

Monarch, with a smirk of pride, slides forward what looks to be pictures of outside a white stone building, and a sidewalk with a fallen body. Under his other hand rests his loyal notebook; worn with age and overuse, and a file filled with what looks to be research. Said research, however, is rather hard to read due to the poor handwriting skills. Well, perhaps not skills, but more of form. What can one say when the author of said notes writes with claws? Monarch clears his throat as Empress has a seat, watching like a kitten expecting some cream from it’s owner.

“Baron actually did good for once and as we can see… decided to have a celebratory drink.”

“Ewe bet rour nerfy azz ey ‘id!”

“Quite.”

“Ew! Baron!”

Sovereign retracts her hand with a shiver and a look of disgust, her saliva covered fingers she flicks to the side. Baron grins a sly smile with a new look upon him, rather focused actually for a night of drinking, although he quickly stands with a bit of a sway. He pumps his fist in the air in a celebratory cheer as he points his fingers like a gun towards Monarch, keeping an eye closed as if to aim and fire.

“I co*cked my baby, Vacío, here and aimed for that over, over glorified... fish filet! Boom! Got here squire, ugh, no, square! Square in the head! Boom! Headshot!”

Monarch rolls his damson eyes and waving Baron off. Czar, too, seems to falter his stoic exterior as he returns to his seat. His eyes shift into the darkness of the room, and a gleam catches his eyes. Right. Just breath. Get through the meeting then more important activities await. The chair grunts under the weight of the leader taking his seat and Baron takes this upon himself as his cue to speak.

“While yes, it was a great shot, I presume. He did have to turn tail as the commotion did cause a bit… of unwelcome company. Baron was a good boy and fetched the monster for me, along with a few papers from her home. Be it… I wish I had more… but beggars can’t be choosers. I’m glad he remembered to grab any at all quite frankly.”

Baron sticks his tongue out at the scientist as he collapses back into his seat with a huff; muttering about co*ck-sucking scientist should do the damn field work himself if he wants to be petty. Monarch in return glowers down at the meathead, but returns to his seat with Pressy sliding back into her original comfortable position.

“This being said, while Baron and his men returned to my lab with the unconscious researcher in hand, we were greeted with a rather… frazzled, to say the least, Cele-er, Sovereign. Pardon me, still getting used to your title, child.”

With everyone returning to their seats, this leaves Sovereign, standing, the audience focused on her. She gulps as a bead of sweat slips down her cheek. All eyes on her. She brushes a strand of dark hair from her eyes, tucking it behind her faded red ribbon dawning her head. She takes a deep breath in, and a quivering breath out.

“I… I did what was assigned to me. I went to the playground in Southside to scout for next week’s exchange. Nothing was happening… and no one was there. I was just a child playing at the swing set. I blended in!”

She smiles for a moment, then it falls as her brows furrow.

“I… blended in. I… someone approached.”

A flicker of confusion washes over her and she places a hand on her head. Why… why does it start to get fuzzy?

“I… the person, a fellow human, spoke to me. Nothing really to make me worry. It wasn’t until she spoke that I saw her necklace… yeah, her necklace. I saw the emblem! That’s right!”

Things are starting to clear within the fog of her mind.

“She had the skeleton’s emblem on her neck. I, I must apologize… I acted impulsively, but I… I did attack her.”

Sovereign places her weapon on the table; one might mistake as a knife on first glance, but it is in fact a practice wooden combat knife. One used for training, not fighting. She shifts back on her heels as she does not look away from the item resting before her. It does not shine in the light like a real knife would, but it is quite convincing at first glance. She leers at Baron as he chides a remark about getting rid of such a toy long ago.

“I could never part from this Baron, no more than you could with your gun! Both of these were gifts from our Majesty! I, I cherish this...I… I attacked her with it. I hoped to more intimidate her than anything else. Perhaps rise my EXP to finally compare it to your own, sir. I took a few a chance and… and…”

She waivers and her hands fall to her chest. Baron pulls out a flask to continue his drink, coughing at first as the burn quenches his throat. Empress nuzzles into the shoulder of the stone Monarch, who’s resting his chin on his hand, waiting for Sovereign to continue. No doubt his thoughts are more about his lab and work rather than her retelling her story. Czar… Czar is watching. Watching her. She straightens up.

“I chased the girl around the p-playground area. The snow made it a bit difficult for her, but it was quite easy for myself. Your training helped me so much, sir! I did the whole trick about pulling that… heart… thing… from her chest. The ability, Czar sir, you showed us after Majesty showed you. I attacked it! I...I…”

She’d… lost? Won? This is the part that gets confusing to her.

“You, what, child?” Monarch pushes her on, impatiently.

“I… I was about to hit her… for a final strike.”

She holds her hand on her weapon of choice.

“I, I was about to go in for the final strike. She, she had no chance. She’s… she was such a weakling. As I attacked, I was suddenly… er… intercepted. By… a stick. Yeah, that's right! A stick. The kid came from nowhere. I have to be just a few years this kid’s senior, but they deftly blocked me! I… I don’t really remember what happened next…”

She twiddles the blade under her fingers, the fog of her brain returning with vengeance. Why does it seem as if she had taken a swig of Baron’s brew? Perhaps with her sleep deprivation from the night before had finally caught up with her?

“Tell me about the child.”

No one at the table had spoken.

Eyes shift to the darkness behind Czar; where he, immobile, closes his eyes with acknowledgment to the voice. Baron sits up, placing down his flask with a rush. Monarch stiffens and Empress, similar to Baron, straightens up as well and begrudgingly removes herself from the hold of Monarch. In the shadows of the room, eyes of blazing red with intrigue shine as the voice repeats itself with a tinge of urgency.

“Tell me about the child.”

Gulp.

“Y-Yes, the child. They had a mop of brown hair, a newsie cap with a similar skeleton emblem on it like the girl’s necklace. I feel like they are human spies for the Southside gang. They may have heard about next week’s exchange and were there to do similar scouting as myself. We clashed weapons, myself and… Ugh… it’s so hard to remember, I must have gotten hit in the head…”

She trails off, rubbing her temples. Baron, despite being under the watch of Majesty’s stare, decides to speak up.

“Well, maybe ya need to get a better weapon to defend ya’self. Using a toy can only getcha so far.”

Empress is the one to roll her eyes and she sneers at the dimwitted dunce.

“At least the brat can hit her targets unlike yourself, Baron. What fool forgets how many bullets are in their gun? Tsk.”

“Oh f*ck off Pressy, just cause the attention ain’t on ya’self right now doesn’t mean you need ta be painted green with envy.”

The venom spitting continues between the two.

Frivolous insults between the two taint the air.

“Wait!”

Celeste’s childish voice breaks the tongue lashing between the two. All eyes fall upon her as she picks up her weapon. She mimics a slashing downward only to halt, mid-slash, as if she was hindered by something. She does it again. Thrice more.

“Green! She, the woman! She… it was… her heart pulsated in front of me. It, it’s not like our own heart things. I never saw something so colorful! Yes, it was definitely green. Like… I think it was... poisoned or something… cause…”

A beat of silence fills the air. All attention on her once more. She can feel the weight of their eyes on her. Her mouth feels like it's filled with cotton as she attempts to speak. As if not believing even herself, she speaks. All eyes on her lips. All ears on her voice.

“She... had... magic?”

Celeste, in such as rush as if she fears the memories will fade before she can finish her sentence, recants her tale with a rush. Green. A shield of some sort. Defending the two. The woman had thrown herself over the child to protect them from her attacks. The child had been reaching down for their stick weapon they had dropped.

“...and then, it was as if I was seeing... double. The woman and another... woman? I do not know where she had come from, but she must have been helping the two fight me. Cheaters! Three on one, Southside scum, don’t know a fair fight. Then… and then…”

She pauses as her fists clench, occupying the area before her chest.

“Then there… was pain. My chest… hurt. I never checked, but perhaps there were more than just those three. I may have received an attack from the back? I… I do not know. I just don't know...”

Her eyes scan the one’s before her, jumping from one fellow Crown Five leader to another. Her chest feels as though a weight rests upon it. This crushing feeling does not dissipate as she speaks a question which has been plaguing her inner thoughts.

“The heart... mine is gray, so is yours, and so is yours… Is it possible for humans to absorb magic? What is Southside planning? I’m… I’m frightened, to say the least”

A murmur comes up between the Crown Five. Voices and disbelief dress the air with confusion, worry... anger. Empress’s voice raises above the others as she declares they make a plan for attack. Monarch grumbles about needing to further his research and he is just wasting time with this meeting. Baron is snapping about how he should get to training his men and prep for any human magic fused creatures. Czar, remains silent, but his eyes sparkle with a new alertness… and dare he think… worry.

A tap on his shoulder refocuses his mind. He stands from his seat, the others fall quiet. His chest creaks as he straightens up to full height. His white dress shirt, in need of a good steam press, shifts over his scarred skin. His eyes falter to glance in the direction to his left before meeting those of the gang.

“This meeting is dismissed. Monarch, go see to our guest. Empress, prepare for the shows tonight, we need the coin to keep coming in. Sovereign, take Baron to his room to get him sobered up.”

All nod, no hesitation for once, and pack up to head in their separate directions. Monarch collects his folders and notes. Empress tidies up her robe and takes her glass of water, heading to her room to ready herself for the day. Baron trips a tad, and with the helpful guidance of Sovereign, they head towards the exit designated for their bedrooms.

“Oh, and Sovereign..?”

She falters at the sound of Czar’s voice, nearly stumbling as Baron attempts to keep moving forward. She glances over her shoulder, nerves biting at her throat. She stutters out a sound that sounds not like one of acknowledgment to her leader, but sounds more like the squeak of a mouse.

“...good job out there.”

A flurry of red covers her face. She stutters more, attempting to thank him. It fails rather spectacularly. She doesn’t waste much time, and begrudgingly to Baron’s intoxicated body, she’s quick to rush the two of them out of there. Czar can’t help but for a snicker to crack upon features. The door slams shut behind them as they exit, the slam echoing into the how silent room.

“He...heh...heheh…”

A gentle giggle.

A resounding chuckle.

A vibrant cackle.

A bellowing laugh.

“Hahaha! HAHAHAHA!”

Czar turns on to face the other sole occupant in the room. Their laugh chills him to his bone. They keep laughing. Czar looks over them, questionably. Why are they laughing? They are still laughing. Czar steps towards them, arm outstretched to touch them. They dodge. There are tears in their eyes. They keep laughing.

“Majesty? Is… is all alright?”

They just keep laughing.

“...Chara?”

Their laughing falls silent at the sound of their name. They turn on their heels, heading towards a side door. Czar calls out to them. They do not address Czar in return. No. Now is not the time. No. So much must be done. Yes. Much to be done. The dark hall passes them by, no painting nor plantlife decorate this hall like a home. No. This is not home. A door. A normal door. Inside is a room. Their room. Their temporary room, they remind themselve. The door clicks open, and once through, clicks behind them. The door locks behind them as they press their back against the white wood.

It’s barren in here. The carpet color? It does not matter. The texture of the bed duvet? It does not matter. Their desk is what matters. No, perhaps not the desk… but what lies behind the desk itself. The wall. Papers. Pictures. Printed. Hand drawn. Their hand traces over their loyal weapon at their side. Right where it belongs. Their eyes rest upon the wall’s surface, devious eyes flickering about the pictures.

There.

After all this time, after all this searching, once again… they are closer to finding them. A mouse drawn to the cheese, knowing a cat yet awaits in the shadows. Despite knowing the cat awaits with death at their claws… the mouse still pushes forward. Instinct? Perhaps. Chara has never been in the position of the mouse, always preferring to be the cat in this lovely game of theirs.

Slashes dress the wall, wall paper peeling as if wounded by their might. By their knife. Their knife. Rubys scan across the pictures; many figures of varying design, yet only one constant remains. No, it is not themselves they have drawn upon the paper. No, that is not their brown mop of hair, nor their striped sweater they find comfort in. No. It was never about them to begin with. No… it’s all about...

Frisk.

Fingers twitch around the handle of the knife.

They pace for a moment, feet padding against plush flooring. They stop before what looks like a beautiful mosaic piece decorated with hearts. Hearts? Right, they have gotten so used to those fools and the lies. Hearts? No, rather… souls. Yes, they know the true answer of what comes from within one’s chest. The essence of one’s being, the soul. There are multiple figures of these souls artistically depicted before them. Gray… gray… gray… one after another… three on the right… a blank space… then three on the left. They stop at the final one. The one on the far left. The one just out of reach.

“...I finally found you.”

So quiet, so soft spoken.

So…

Determined.

Chapter 26: Other Side of the Same Coin

Chapter Text

This.

This is no closet.

You step within the confines of this tiny room, or should you say… sanctuary? You breath, labored. Your eyes, wide. Just what is before you is… alarming. Papers. Pictures. Notes. Is that, Sans? Dressed as a superhero? Papyrus… as a villain? Your fingers trace along the tattered depictions of mapped out caverns, castles, bogs… The walls. The walls have shelves built into them. Copious journal-looking booklets house these spaces; each with a numeric code, color… and… does that say timeline? What? You reach for a thick booklet towards the base of this cavalcade of unknown knowledge. This is the most worn of all of these, sticking out like a sore thumb due to its odd coloring. You grasp the scripture within your hand, the hairs on your arms arising.

This was locked behind a barrier.

A magical barrier.

Unknown.

Secret.

Why?

What has Frisk been… creating? Is he writing a story? Why all the secrets?

You turn on your heels, holding the publication to your chest. Your eyes narrow, a shaky breath escaping you. The adjacent wall looks like a classic scene, like that of a decitive trying to trace down a wanted criminal. Some of these names you recognize, others, you do not. Muffet the spider lady, Catty and Bratty the boutique sales people as well. Sans, Papyrus… Huh, no Gaster? Maybe Frisk doesn’t like their boss. You mind flashes back to your previous encounters with the mafioso. Yeah, can’t blame them for disliking Gaster, that asshole with his determination pill stunt. Frisk is just a kid… but… no. He wouldn’t experiment on them, right? Frisk didn’t seem in distress…

The lone light above you hums a white noise.

You scan over the tattered note book, dusty with age.

This is wrong.

You should not be here.

Your finger tip flicks open the curling aged pages, this… this houses things you should not know. Something, something in you screams that this is wrong. That... that this notebook does not belong. You take a seat on the ground, the dark carpet rubbing against your bare legs. Nestled in your lap, the notebook feels much heavier than its perceived weight. Your lung expand and you chest aches as you draw in another, slow, breath. You need to read this. You do not know why.

But you must.

The cover states something with chicken scratch writing, Walk… Walkthrough? Walkthrough what? Your eyes remain staring at the text, attempting to create some sort of connection. Nothing. Opening the cover reveals more childishly written wording, in regards to the date. The date seems to be rubbed away, smudged in fact, but you can see what it says beneath it.

Mount. Ebott.

The old mountain range just outside the city? Yes, the picture has seemed to yellow with age… but it’s definitely the one you’ve seen many a times. What an odd location to write about when going near the mountain is… well... a trespassing act, made illegal by the government due to unsafe travel conditions. Something about cave ins and pockets that empty out into the cave’s basin. Rumor has it there are treasures within the mountain that one crime syndicate or another has control over it… but nothing ever made the papers. The positive side of working at a bar, the walls have ears after all.

What an odd choice for a child to write about.

Your eyes rest upon the next pages, which feature quite detailed maps of what looks to be… ruins? The format is simple, an odd room towards the beginning… marked start? There is, in just this one room... many, many notes. A scripture is written above the picture, the handwriting rubbed away and just barely visible on the aged papers. You speak aloud despite no audience; at least you hope, to better comprehend what you are reading.

“...I came to the mountain to answer a calling. Something, deep within me was tugging me forth. I left behind the life I lived. I came to a cave. My vision grew dark. I fell? I fell. I did not scream in fear, or if I did, I do not remember. In the darkness, I do remember... calling. Speaking. Not even an echo graced me with its response…”

You thumb over a drawing of yellow and green, it’s hard to tell what you are looking at. The crayon wax has been rubbed away it seems. Yet, beneath the yellow… it’s hard to tell. It looks to be darkness, yet a small red circle? No, it’s too awkwardly shaped to be a circle.

“...I fell, but I do not remember it hurting. I lay in silence, my chest throbbing. A name. A name filled my mind as I did not move. A true name. A name I knew, but did not know. As I said the name aloud, it felt as if my chest had grown at ease. I woke up.”

A blue sweater decorated with pink. A mop of matted brown hair. That looks… like Frisk? The red circle from before now rests at their chest, the same one that was beneath the yellow and green circle you’d just thumbed over.

“...I should have died. No one should survive such a fall. I was lost, confused… scared. I was not sure what to expect when I opened my eyes. Armed with a walking stick I used to scale the mountain side, I set forth. I remember the first time I met Flowey. He seemed so nice. The next time we met and times after, Asr-he did not remember me. When I, we, reset… it seems everything truly does star over… Like nothing ever happened. This is an incredible power that's awoken inside me.”

Power? As in… magic? Shaking your head, you must remind yourself that this is nothing but a story. A glimpse into Frisk’s imagination. Yes. This is make believe. A game. You notice there’s a tallie system it seems, many strokes and slashes keeping a score of some sort on the following page. Yes, a game.

“...Ihave fallen many times. Too many times to count. Even as I write this down in this new world, I forget which number I am on. It’s always the same, but yet not. The first few times I fell, I was wary. She made it easier… she made it harder… ”

You squint as you come upon a picture of what looks like… a goat… a goat in a… dress?

This kid has some imagination.

There’s a comment under the picture.

Nice butt.

Oh, what the hell Frisk?

“...I didn’t want to keep coming back, but I had to. Every time I came back, it always seemed a bit different. Besides, I have someone to save after all. I've saved all but him, so I know there has to be a way! When we started… well... disagreeing… things really started to change further. At first, the changes were small. I heard different things from the monsters, saw different sights… it was thrilling! The Underground is an amazing place, so much to see and do. It’s not that I got bored, I just… I needed to know more. I needed to know the full story. I must be missing something. Something right in front of me. I need to save them. I need to save all of them. I need to save him...”

The sentence spaces for a while, tailing off at the end. There are dry marks of what seems to be water stains on the bottom of the page. At the bottom of the corner, in sloppy handwriting, a lone message stands.

“...I need to stop.”

You close the book as you rub your temples. Your head is throbbing. You feel sick. It’s as if… as if...

You open the pages back up, a few pages deeper than before. Why do you keep doing this? The color palette of this page is an assortment of grays, blues, greens, whites… a question mark on the side of a wide white slab of paint. It says ball game here, and… nice cream? Must be a misspelling.

“. ..After enjoying some nice cream, I found a fun game here. When I play the game, I win money, it’s quite useful. A flag is raised in celebration when I win. They said they had created this game with a sibling a time ago. It took me a few times to realize this was instead a timed game and not just a game of skill. At different rates yielded different results. When the snow ball fell in, they would taunt me with what they seemed to deem as a clever statement. ‘Even when you felt trapped, you took notes and achieved the end of ‘ball’.’ They taunted me when I struggled to get it within the hole after sliding to the point the ball almost melted…”

There’s a separation between this and the next paragraph. It displays a picture with what looks like time measurements. Within this oddly created timeline of events, you can see their ‘skill’ at playing the game grew greater with time. At certain sections is states how this was their third or even forth time returning to the ball game. The final section you begin to read starts off with a silly drawing of a... happy face?

“Finally! I figured out this puzzle! I know, it’s silly to keep returning to this game, but I need to remember everything for the next reset. I’ve noticed in time I get better at this challenge. As a result, the flag changes colors. My first few attempts at this the flag turned purple, then with more care I received a dark blue. After receiving a few gold from the ball once it melted into the hole, I took my leave. Yet, it bothered me. On the next reset, I decided to take on the challenge to get… I don’t know. A better time? I don’t know why. I just… I’m always looking for new things everytime I come back to the beginning to further my goals. This time I found a switch for the face puzzle, in a tree! Of all places?! How!? Magic seems to be the common answer, and Papyrus doesn’t seem to understand why it was there so… I’ll just drop it. He seems like his head is as empty as a skeleton skull would be.”

Rude.

Frisk.

That’s just plain rude.

“He seems to watch on from just north of the course, trying to trick me into buying the fried snow, he’s curious at my… determination… to get the answers. When I return to my attempts at the game, I tried different tactics. When taking my time I found the game resulted in light blue. After a few precise hits in a short period of time to cover more ground… it resulted in green! I knew there were more colors! Besides… it’s not like it's a waste of time anyway. I earn gold pieces with every attempt. I need that gold for later in the village. I’ll get her to college this time!”

You stare at what you just read. College? Ball game? What does…? Your head hurts. No matter. You'll just read a bit more of this section. Perhaps there is something cryptic within this game they are writing about?

“The next reset I returned once more, and with clever accuracy I achieved yellow! I wasn’t very fast this time, but I was quite on the mark with my hits. The next time I returned once more, I achieved orange with my speedy actions and accuracy. I’ve done it!”

There’s a break once more in the paragraphs. This paragraph is circled with what looks like red marker. In bold letters beside this section of script it states, NEW.

“...I thought I was done with this game… as I felt like I got all of the colors. What else would be left? So absent mindedly, on the next reset, I completed the game. RED. This is new! I don’t know what I did differently, but I did! Because of this… they spoke to me...

‘ Bravery. Justice. Integrity. Kindness. Perseverance. Patience. Using these, you were able to win at ‘ball game’.

No more taunts. No, instead they spoke… of what I do not know. A hint? I ask them what do they know, yet they do not reply. I can never seem to get them to talk to me, yet, they seem to only reply in response to my actions. They comment on mundane moments, but they are very useful in my trips in the underground. They seem to know everyone and about the things I use to survive. I never would have tried monster food had I not trusted their words. I ask them to tell me more, but they remain silent. Please speak to me, I feel you within me. I know. I am just your vessel…”

Your eyes widen.

“...Chara. ”

▒▒▒▒▒?

Chara?

▒▒▒▒a!

A name, a very familiar name…

Had you heard the name before?

C▒a▒a!

Why is it familiar?

You fingers hover over the page of information, rereading does not help you grasp what you can not comprehend. You don’t feel right reading into the information you have found. This isn't, you shouldn't... perhaps though… if you look a bit further in…

You really should stop.

This is a dangerous rabbit hole.

You can’t seem to escape.

Pages creak as you reopen the book further in, coming across pictures of… No. Freaking. Way. Sans? It, no, not the clad suit wearing, suave skeleton you’ve just met.

And had sex with.

Ahem.

Anyway.

No, it can’t be. This one looks… looks… like a complete, and utter, slob! There’s, there’s red stains on his white shirt! It’s not even a dress shirt! No, it can’t be him. Maybe a cousin? Well… he is wearing blue though… just like the suits you’ve seen him in… maybe…

The mental gymnastics have you dizzy. Yet, you can’t help but feel like you are reading some sort… some sort of truth yet again. Besides, it’s really hard to mistake that ghastly eye for another skeleton monster.

The unforgettable cerulean and topaz shine of his left eye.

It seems like there are multiple pages of this booklet dedicated to this guy. Creepy much, Frisk? Multiple parts seem to be erased, scratched out, blacked out, removed with tears in the paper… It’s actually hard to read. Turning the page away from the picture, you come across a paragraph you can clearly read a few pages further in. The penmanship seems rather pointed at this. No hesitation in this documentation of these so called ‘notes’.

“...Sans knows. He remembers, I think, most of what goes on. He remembers Flowey’s events, it’s what makes him wary of me. He thinks we are the same, so he does not remember everything. He knows I can time travel. I didn’t realize the first time down here. No, it wasn’t until after speaking with him in the golden hall. I was waiting, rather impatiently, to finish his spiel of LOVE and whatnot… He noticed. My mouth must have been mimicking what he was saying. I’m glad I made that unconscious mistake. He asked me to return once again. This… this was new. So, I decided to play his game. I loaded my save file. He… he knew, he called me out on my actions. He shared with me a code, our code has become our so called ‘safe word’ in this new timeline world plain of existence…”

Another break in the paragraphs due to illegible writing has you skipping a few paragraphs ahead. A few paragraphs become a few pages as you glance over pictures and quips Frisk has made about each one. There’s a laboratory. Terrifying drawings of melting creatures. A knight in shining armor. A yellow lizard dressed in what looks to be a lab coat. What the hell? Even the guardsman protecting the bar are there? One and Two? Wasn’t that there names? Does Frisk know about… everyone? You stop at a paragraph marked, Present.

“I reread my notes quite often, amending things that I recall throughout my days. I spend a large amount of my time in my room, staring out of my window. Things were much simpler before. Now Sans and I work together to find Chara and the other souls to return the world to what we once knew. I just want to go back and enjoy our times at Grillby’s -oh?”

Wait, Grillby’s? As in your Grillby? They did seem to know Grillby back when you saved them and M.K. from the gang members… No, don’t get ahead of yourself. Frisk is just writing about their own little story to keep themselves busy. There is very little around here to keep a child entertained. This is just a story. A tale.

“ ...enjoy our times at Grillby’s. We can’t find it up here, this time. I don’t know if it was my decision, or Chara’s, I personally always was a fan of his burgers. When things swapped around when Muffet was there with a cafe instead, I didn’t miss Grillby then! He almost reminded me of the Mad Hatter from the childhood story I read long ago. Perhaps that change was my fault, as I do not believe Chara knows of the story of Alice in Wonderland. I wish I knew more about them. Perhaps this next reset will do the trick?”

You close the book and stare ahead at the wall before you. You hadn’t noticed before at angle you were standing… but there’s pictures after pictures; all hand drawn, of what now you can see to be very similar to your flame companion. Some depict him as purple flames, others with light orange, other times even blue, but one thing you always recognize: his bowtie and glasses always seem to remain. Yes, that has to be him.

This is almost too much. Just remember, you remind yourself, you are reading a secret about a child’s… er… story. Fiction. Despite how much you want to convince yourself of such an idea, deep down… something is starting to feel… wrong. Why, why do some of these things seem to be… something you already knew.

Just take a breath.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

A sparkle catches your eyes, its gleaming reflection dancing in your sight. You return the booklet to its home, and reach into the glaring shine. You feel… paper? It looks to be some sort... of file? There is text on the outside of this one though, clearly printed in black ink.

“ ... First Save File? Huh, what an odd name…”

You grumble to yourself as you return to your seat on the carpet, shaking a bit of the numbness from your leg muscles. The file rests in your lap as you examine the outside. It’s… quite plain, perhaps this wasn’t the object you saw shining? You glance back over to where you found it. No, nothing else is there. Nor does sunlight reach in here, this secret area. Perhaps your eyes are just playing tricks on you? Well, your eyes are not tricking you as you read over a note written stained with what seems to be… tears?

“ ... Be good, won’t you... ”

Your chest tightens.

“...my child…”

Your chest aches.

“ ...I didn’t mean it. I just wanted to leave… ”

Your soul emerges, hovering before you like a morbid lantern. The emerald aura has you seeing a bit easier in the dimness of this forbidden room. You almost regret your discovery. Through the soul’s glow you repeat aloud the stained mantra which seems to have carved itself into the folder’s shell.

“ ...accident...accident...accident...accident… ”

The word seems to be found all over the file.

A name, once again, shows up.

It’s written in red.

“...Flowey knows... ”

Who is Flowey?

“Why are you here?”

Came a voice from the door.

You were never supposed to find this. No one was. How you even got here was a mystery, but here they are, staring at you… with your soul floating before you? The door shut silently behind them as they watch you read aloud. Distracted. You don’t seem to notice them. Enraptured. You found their book, their memory book regarding their time in the underground. How, how was the door broken into? The door was still locked! Their fingers tense, gripping the weapon behind their back.

The reason they had returned to the room.

Why are you holding their save file?

To find you no longer resting in the bed.

Do you even know what your holding?

What you could do to this world if you were to, were to-!

“Why are you here?”

Came their voice from the door.

You're standing on your feet by the time the sentence ends. Someone is here. Since when? Had the door opened? You never heard this voice before. It sounds so young, yet, so… matured? No, that isn’t the right term. It sounds... strained? Underused? Almost painful to the ears... In the darkness you can not see anything, not even the gleam of eyes. You stiffly place down the so called ‘save file’ and back up until the small of your back is chilled by the wall.

“W-Who's there?”

A figure steps forward, your eyes widen with shock. Your mouth falls dry as you babble out a name. A name you did not associate with speaking.

“...F...Frisk?”

The small child stares up at you with their narrowed sight, brows creased... with confusion? Concern? Both? Neither? Dressed in pressed black pants and a nice button up, this child should seem nothing like the aura they are expressing. You can feel it in the air, the hairs on your arms bristling. Your bare legs tremble as the long gray sweater does nothing to shield past your mid-thighs. The child, their blank smile… it's… it's suddenly so haunting.

Wait, they talked?

“F-Frisk?”

You speak again.

“How are you in here?”

They speak with no hesitation. Their voice gaining in strength, warming up one might say. So, it really was them speaking. They step forward, their left arm not coming out from behind their back, but their right arm swings forward… resting on the bookshelf to their side. They seem in deep thought, not quite addressing you, but rather, the situation. They close in on you, their hand now resting over the file you were just holding. Your path is blocked. You can not sneak away. The walls suddenly feel a lot closer than before.

You can’t breathe.

Frisk speaks up, you were in fact hearing them.

This is real.

You can easily see their mouth moving from under the room’s light source above.

“...The door was locked, I locked it… I always do. Only Sans knows this room is here, and only he can get in if I let him in. The key…”

You can see it under their hand, the one that rest upon the file. They hold it in a firm yet shaky grip, why does it look sort of familiar?

“...This key... he gave to me in another timeline. The original timeline. It was the key to his old room after all.”

Timeline...? Wait, you read something about this? Didn’t you?

Your head hurts.

Taking a breath, you step forward. Frisk tenses and seems to brace against the bookshelf, partially hidden from view once more. You bite your lower lip to halt its trembling. You take a slow breath and feel your lungs expand in time with your palpating heart.

“Frisk…”

You speak but don’t know where to start. This room? That book? This file? Those pictures? Who is Flowey? Chara? Who, why... why do these ring some sort of bell in your head? Your soul shudders and you see it attempting to form what you assume to be the other you once more. No! Not here! Your hand juts forth as if to cup the incorporeal object.

Your hand is met only with the broadside of a blade.

Is this…?

Yes… it’s a blade used for cutting weeds and preening flowers…

They seem to be worn with use.

Use against what… you're afraid to ask.

You step back, your soul following as if attached to a leash.

Frisk is staring, their raised arms unmoving. Makeshift weapon in hand, your soul flickering just inches away. Within arms reach, they could kill you… with one swipe of that blade. You're terrified. With stiff movements, they lower their hands, the weapon still braced before them in an act of defense. Their expression has not changed.

It’s unreadable.

“Frisk, please,”

You plead.

“Tell me, what is happening? What is… where… what’s going on!”

You demand.

Soul pulsating.

Frisk’s staring.

You notice.

Not at you.

Rather.

Your soul.

“...I finally found you.”

So quiet, so soft spoken.

So…

Determined.