#And how Toriel might react to knowing that someone - someone other than her - is having So Much Success on one of her sore spots

[sysig]

“It could be that the loss of her children drove the Queen deeper into her darker desires...but, I don’t believe she was fighting against them that hard before that particular tragedy. No monster does.” (Patreon)

Bonus:

Hmm, wonder what he could cover those holes with :3c

[aikoiya]

What if humanity and the surface monsters somehow got Alphys’ camera footage of the Ebott Kingdom all attacking and trying to destroy Frisk as well as harvest their soul?… What if half of the Kingdom (including all the main characters) were thrown in a special Anti-Magic Prison, because of all their crimes (child murder + attempted murder + attempted war/genocide)?… What if Frisk gets adopted by Monster Kid’s family, while this is happening?

And what if the mother of one of the 6 dead humans was actually a monster (aka the child was adopted)?

Toriel: I understand why Asgore and some of the others are on trial… But why am I also on trial? I didn’t murder those children! I haven’t done anything wrong!

Old Monster Lady: Queen Toriel?

Toriel: Yes?

Old Monster Lady: I just found out, that all the previous humans that came before Frisk, had died by your husband’s hands and YOU KNEW IT! You knew what King Asgore and his Kingdom was gonna do to those children and their souls! You knew he wanted to start another horrible war! But you let him hurt those innocent humans anyway? You knew all those things! But still my boy is dead now. And there’s nothing you can do about it. My boy is dead, because of YOU and YOUR HUSBAND… I wanted you to know that.

[Old Monster Lady walks away, with tears in her eyes…]

Asgore: I’m sorry, Toriel. She’s wrong. What happened wasn’t your fault.

Toriel: …Yes, it was.

Out of curiosity, how do you think Asgore + Toriel + Papyrus + Undyne + Alphys + Mettaton + Sans would all react if some of the previous dead humans that Asgore destroyed… were actually adopted by surface-monster families (like how Asgore and Toriel adopted Chara)?

How would they feel about realizing that their horrible actions had ironically hurt monsterkind as well as humanity?

How would they feel about realizing that they’re honestly no better than the Human Village that destroyed Asriel a long time ago? 💔💔💔 

—

Aikoiya: Hmm… This is a tough one… Well, for one, they’d likely be blindsided by the fact that there were still monsters living on the surface at all. Then add to that the fact that they, as far as I can tell from your submission, just openly live in harmony with humanity. It’d be quite the shock.

Afterall, there was a ton of speciesist propaganda going around the Underground. The only real way I could see this being possible is if Asgore & Toriel had either not been born yet during the Monster-Human War or they’d been too young to remember much of it.

Plus, there’s a decent amount of evidence to suggest that a lot more happened to cause the war to take place. That the monsters might not have been as innocent as the player was led to believe.

I go over this in post of mine from a while back.

Anyway, in such a situation as this being the case, that would suggest that it was actually Asgore’s predecessor who fought in the war, but we don’t know anything about them, so most of this is just speculation on my part.

If this was true, it’s very possible that the only ones aware that there were other monsters out there not living in the Underground would be those who’d lived through it & the only one that we know of for certain would be Gerson. Meanwhile, all the newer monsters would be under the mistaken impression that they were the only ones for various reasons.

Despite the fact that, if that were the case, then it would mean that humanity had exterminated everyone else, which makes no sense considering the fact that they were trapped in a giant magic prison rather than killed off. The very fact that the monsters of the Underground are alive to debate the idea makes mockery of the possibility. Either monsters are too self-absorbed to think on it or there are those that bring this up, but the rest of the Underground largely looks down on them as conspiracy theorists. (I personally like the latter more.)

As for why Gerson wouldn’t say anything about this, I’m not sure. It’s possible that there was some sort of gag order by someone higher up, but that’s a theory for another time.

Asgore… would likely be horrified. After all, he put his own people through the same anguish that he, himself, went through so long ago. Like I’ve said before, I see him as the type to take the guilt onto himself & accept the punishment of… basically being a cereal child murderer. I don’t wanna think about how long he’d be in though. I mean, he’s got 6 counts of 1st degree murder (25 years to life each), 1 count of conspiracy to commit murder (10 years to life), as well as conspiracy to commit genocide (20 years to life). So, that’s 180 years to life right there & that's lowballing it.

Toriel, I see feeling insanely guilty for the exact reason you stated above. I don’t think she did what she did purposefully, more so unconsciously, but it was still, inevitably, wrong & against the law. So, in the end, it really wouldn't matter unless her defense attorney happened to be a member of the Wright Anything Agency. In the end, hers would be more a crime of negligence. So, she’s more likely to be charged with 6 counts of misprision of felony & accessory after the fact. While misprision is a misdemeanor & prison time for it is only 3 years per. Multiply that by 6-7 (I assume) & that adds up to at least 18 years. Add to that the 6 counts of accessory to felony, which is lowballed at 1 year, but the maximum of 15-30 years each depending on where you are, that adds up to 24-180 plus 18, so 42-198 years. That isn’t an insignificant amount. Then, there’s the fact that she knew about Asgore’s intention to commit literal genocide, so that’s complicacy in genocide, which adds, at most, ½ the term of imprisonment for the original crime as far as I’m seeing. This also technically counts for all the monsters involved.

Papyrus… I feel like he’d be the least affected. He’s never seen to be the particularly malicious type, so I see him being more confused, but at the same time elated. I’m not sure if he knew about the intent to commit genocide. He’d at least get assault charges. If nothing else, I got the impression that he would accept that he did something wrong & own up to it once he knew that he did something wrong. As such, I see him being one of the only ones who might be able to manage to get a lighter sentence, possibly. That could just be me, but that's what I think.

Undyne… Yeesh… I very much think her entire worldview would be flipped on its head. She only ever really befriends Frisk for petty reasons & she was just outright bigoted from the moment you meet her. Sure, she was all-in on Frisk after the fact, but I, personally, can't really be sure how much of that is genuine & how much is her being committed to proving that she can, which would definitely be something brought up by a prosecutor to cast doubt on her motives. Not to mention, she was all-in with the genocide idea for years. So, that’s aiding & abetting, conspiracy... Gosh, I’m getting a headache…

I’m not really sure what Alphys would think. I mean, she’d be happy that they weren’t alone, but at the same time… It’s possible that she thought of this as a possibility, but either did not speak up for one reason or another, or entirely dismissed the idea as impossible. Either way, she alone has committed several crimes against both humanity & monsterkind. I mean, it's likely that monsterkind is counted amongst the ranks of people, & as such, she’d have definitely violated the laws of the Geneva Convention & human experimentation, not just against the human souls, but also the monsters who became the amalgamates. In fact, due to monsters openly being part of Surface life, it's likely that both races were waiting for the Underground monsters to come up, likely believing that, at most 6 of the missing children had fallen down there as if all had, then why hadn't they surfaced yet. I could see the Surface monsters hoping that the Underground monsters would opt for mercy, only to feel uncertain when only 1 human child surfaced with them, then horrified to learn what had taken place.

Actually, the Surface monsters might end up being the most audibly upset over it.

As for Sans… I don’t think he’d process it very well at first. Oh, he wouldn’t make a big deal about it on the outside, but inside, I see him having severe cognitive dissonance over it. I just… I see him as being very anti-human one way or another. Maybe not outwardly, but the way he acts in the game towards Frisk, as well as the fact that he is, in some way or another, aware of the RESETs to some degree, yet doesn't do anything about it until far too late, suggests at the very least a level of scorn.

I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, so I’m not gonna do Mettaton here.

Either way, there’d be this cloud of discomfort that would descend upon the Underground monsters, though not necessarily the outright DOOM that would be appropriate for this situation because, really only Alphys might actually have some idea of just how effed they were due to having watched anime & even she wouldn’t really have a full idea unless she were the sort to play Ace Attorney games or some such. I don’t really see many monsters completely understanding what the big deal is because, as I assume, the monsters were implied to have been sealed during a time where monsters & humans mostly used old school weaponry such as spears as shown at the beginning of the game. Not guns. And considering how willing they were to commit genocide (again, I can’t let this go) & the fact that we don’t really see any prisons or dungeons in the Underground, I’m not even sure that Underground monsters have laws against murder. So, it's likely that the discomfort would mostly be due to concern with how they'd be seen & not from fear of retribution. As such, monsterkind would definitely be in for a rude awakening.

Dear God, almost all the monsters in the Underground could get jailtime or juvie! I only see Monster Kid possibly getting out of it, maybe. Do we even see anyone in the game who says they don’t want this to happen?? Like, obviously those who tried to prevent it & acted out in defiance of it might be given leave as it was literally impossible for them to report the crime so they could get some leeway, but all those who sung out in favor like Bratty & Catty?? Their asses would be in jail.

Though, how would a court even try those that said nothing such as Grillby & Fuku Fire?

Please, keep in mind that I don’t study law. This is all based on Google searches.

Edit: I just realized something, though... Why did Asgore wait for another human after the last one? Unless I'm mistaken, wasn't Chara's soul shown to be in the DT Extractor in the True Lab? If so, then the monsters technically had all 7 souls.

Why did Asgore wait? Unless, either he wanted to be defeated someday to keep from having to go through with what he promises or he actively didn't know about Chara's soul still being around & thought that it'd simply turned to dust with Asriel's body? But that doesn't make sense, he'd have seen it... Or he refused to use their soul to kill humanity?

Hmm... That never occurred to me before now. Might wanna look into that...

[pt-disconnected]

Anonymous Ask Responses #18

Well hello again! Took a bit to get this one- mostly because my brain said "nah you already got that done lmao" and then chose to believe itself. But I eventually realized it and now we have part 18 of this anon ask stuff. Here's more answers(?) to your questions(?).

————————

"Pftt I see Berdly still has a crush on Susie"

So far it's not really a crush- more like he's just growing to respect Susie's actions, especially upon realizing what she did to keep her friend (Lancer) safe. And he probably figured that he'd rather be on the good side of that axe.

Because if she's scary in the Light World, having an axe in the Dark World is gonna make her even more so.

(Also, for context, Berdly is actually a good amount smarter in this 'timeline', as opposed to the canon Deltarune. I won't say to what extent, but he is. Just want to clear that up sooner rather than later- because someone will ask that if I don't.)

————————

"Berdly I’m pretty sure science went out the window a long time ago lol"

I mean, magic and science have pretty clear links- so there's likely some semblance of science even in the most profound situation. In this case, it's because of how the Dark World (and the other layered worlds) are portrayed. There has to be a 'portal' into them, and since portals lead to other locations, they definitely don't care about how much space is in a room, since they don't actually lead into that room.

I suppose a decent way to refer to how the Light and Dark Worlds interact is a form of 'quantum entanglement'- for those who don't know what that means, it basically means if object A and object B are entangled, moving object A also moves object B, and vice versa. It's an interesting thing.

However this question isn't about that. I'll explain this whole 'quantum entanglement' between Light and Dark another time. In short, there is actually some science involved, despite it seeming absolutely ludicrous.

————————

"Omg Susie is so funny never change"

I'm glad my portrayal of Susie is enjoyed! I'll try and keep it from getting excessive, but... well, Susie is just that when it comes to annoyance, honestly. When she gets impatient, you can tell. And it's pretty easy to have her get impatient sometimes.

Especially when Berdly does scientific mumbo jumbo chat. It sounds like Charlie Brown's teacher to her.

"woh wohh woh wohh" "SPEAK ENGLISH DAMMIT"

————————

"Well seems that Ralsei made a good first impression on Toriel"

Sure does! I really wonder how Toriel will react to the other goat bois of the Dark World. Or how all of them plus Asriel react. We got goat boi interactions for days. Weeks, even.

And throw in goat boi plus goat mom interactions and we got months worth of content right there.

But, of course, this isn't "Paper Trail Goat Interactions". So that's gonna be only part of the story.

...Might have to consider it though. Probably not, but if anyone wants to have that, go ahead. XD

————————

"Kris: dab on them haters"

The moment Kris does that...

Susie is gonna make sure that they don't make the mistake of such cringe again.

Maybe not nearly as forceful, but definitely making it clear that she's not gonna take that.

(If it does happen again, then who knows what Susie might say about it.)

————————

And with that, Anon Ask Responses #18 is done! If you want to know more about that 'quantum entanglement' insanity then feel free to either ask in the replies of this post or just in the askbox, I think my minor explanation of object A moves, object B moves should be simple enough to understand but for those who want more detail on why it functions well in Paper Trail: Disconnected or even just Paper Trail as a whole (I cannot confirm if this is true as that is Lynx's comic (not mine), thus I cannot say it is canon- however it does function decently well as a theory), then that's always an option.

Aside from that, the 17th part of PT: Disconnected is in the works, and I'll do my best to get it out sooner rather than later. I really appreciate all the support- even now this is much more than I ever really expected!

On another note, I'm considering making a Discord server or something of the sort, as while Lynx has a server where you can chat about Paper Trail, the Disconnected story isn't Lynx-run and thus is separate entirely. Feel free to tell me if you'd want that, so I know whether or not the idea is decent or not. (Asks will still be limited to the Tumblr Askbox if this does come to be, however!)

Regardless, thank you all for the support, and I'll see you later!

[variantia]

BELLUM.   oh yeah but ALSO

wonder how Lo’s gonna react when she actually processes just how much love she has around her ?

she doesn’t have a big friend group, that’s true, but she also doesn’t seem to realize, fully at least, how much everyone she DOES have cares about her

Toriel and Asgore don’t want Lo around because she has powers or can take care of the house, they want her around because she’s a kind person who genuinely cares about their children and they think of her like a daughter.   Toriel is always so excited when Lo comes to cook with her and Asgore loves giving Lo big hugs simply because she “looked like she needed one”.   they love her.

Kris doesn’t want Lo around because she’s ‘everything’ for them, they want her around because they can relate to her and they think she’s a great person and this little corner of the world is brighter because she’s here.   they don’t just care when they’re exchanging food wars, they also love it when the two of them are sitting at some bar drunk at 3 in the morning crying to each other about everything.   they love her.

Chara doesn’t want Lo around because she’s strong or is able to ‘handle’ them when they’re being difficult, they want her around because she’s one of the few adults who’s respected them and they like being able to make her proud of them.   they couldn’t care less that she can lift the couch with one hand and vacuum under it with the other, they just like being able to trust someone new and think that maybe their presence actually does make someone happy.   they love her.

Frisk doesn’t want Lo around because she’s a super cool hero or because she’s able to make plans to manage their energy, they want her around because she’s one of the few people who doesn’t think they’re ‘too much’ and they can’t wait to exchange kisses when they see her and they get to ask her about her day.   who cares that she saved the world yesterday ??   not them !   (ok, well, maybe they do a little bit because that’s awesome.)   they just like hugging her whenever something is wrong with either of them, they know it won’t fix things but it’s still kind of nice.   they love her.

Asriel doesn’t want Lo around because she cooks for them or because she takes them to fun places a lot, he wants her around because he can feel how much she loves them all when she hugs them and she doesn’t think there’s anything ‘wrong’ with him because he’s a crybaby and she doesn’t leave the bedroom until she knows he’s asleep.   if she lost all her powers tomorrow and lost the ability to cook and was too tired to go to the park, it wouldn’t matter to him, he’s just glad she’s there.   he loves her.

hell.   even Flowey has not-completely-selfish motives for wanting her around.   he’s a little fucking bastard, but he still loves her.

Susie and Ralsei and Noelle and Berdly love her too, even if they’re all a bit distant simply because of the fact that (barring Susie who is incredibly obnoxious) they don’t want to presume she wants to hang out with them or don’t want to invite themselves along to places or it just never crosses their mind that she might enjoy their company.

I mean.   of course friends and family don’t ‘fix’ anything.   love doesn’t ‘fix’ anything.   it’s not going to cure her depression and water her crops and make her the physically-and-mentally-healthiest person in the world.

but even though love isn’t going to “fix” what’s making her hurt ... at the same time, I don’t think she truly realizes how much love she’s actually got, and how much of it is genuine love rather than admiration or idealization like she might think it is.

all these people sincerely love her, very much.   for who she is, not what she is and not what she can do.

if (or actually when) they all tell her that, if it all somehow clicks into place, I just ... wonder if that might make her feel some type of way.   you know ?   =)

[grimrester]

Deltarune: Whose Choices Matter? (major spoilers for all routes)

I'm so extremely sure others have discussed this to death already, but I'm obsessed with the themes of "choice" in Deltarune. What's really stuck in my head are these three things:

1. At the start, you, the player, are told no one can choose who they are in this world and that your choices don't matter. The character you make gets thrown away.

2. Pretty much the second you're in the dark world, Ralsei starts telling Kris that their "choices are important too."

3. Toby has said many times that there is "only one ending" and, in one interview, that there's "something more important than reaching the end."

Lots of people have said that Toby was lying since there obviously are differences in both chapters depending on the choices you make. But I don't think that's true. Toby's the type to use clever wording to tell half-truths, but not straight up lie.

It's technically true that there's just one ending. No matter what the player does, the king still ends up in jail. Queen still stops her plan and joins you. Kris still opens up another dark foundation.

The changes in each playthrough are only indirectly the result of the player's actions. They are instead direct results of how the characters treat Kris and each other because of how you acted. Your actions don't matter and can't effect how the story plays out in and of themselves. But because all the key moments - the pillars, Ralsei revealing the story of the Roaring, etc - hinge on the characters' actions, their choices are the ones that matter and the ending is always more or less the same. This theme of choice and the effect of your actions on others is central to pretty much every "changeable" part of the story.

Let me provide some examples.

1. Minor Details

If you toss away the manual Ralsei gives you in chapter 1, he'll put a trashcan in Kris' room instead of a stand for the manual.

This is a really small, pretty insignificant detail. It doesn't affect the story. I personally never touched the manual again even though I kept it. If you toss it, Ralsei still gives Kris/the player tips on how to play. But Toby still programmed it in. He programmed Ralsei to notice you threw away something he worked on, and to treat you differently as a result. Maybe just as a joke, sure. But there's many other instances of characters remembering your actions and treating you accordingly.

Another example: If you step off one of the first electric wall switches before Noelle is done crossing to the other side to stand on the other button, she scolds you and then pulls the same prank on you. Kris looks hurt in response - because they're getting punished for something you did. It's a lot harder to brush this one off as just a joke when it ends with someone feeling hurt.

2. Kris' Dialogue

The player chooses a lot of dialogue for Kris. But sometimes Kris speaks on their own or chooses how they say what they're told by the player to say.

After the Spamton NEO fight, if you choose to tell Susie you're okay, Susie will think about how Kris is speaking hoarsely, and so she thinks Kris probably isn't okay. If you choose to say you're not okay, Ralsei says Kris is yelling. No matter what option you choose, Kris chooses to do their best to communicate that they are definitely not okay. It's Kris' choice here that matters and effects how the characters react, not yours.

3. Recruiting

Chapter 2 hammers in the idea that sparing enemies is important by introducing the recruiting mechanic. But recruiting doesn't seem to actually do much yet, aside from giving you some extra dialogue and dojo challenges.

At one point, there's some tutorial text from Ralsei that mentions how from now on, fighting an enemy instead of sparing it will make it unable to be recruited. Then it specifically mentions that there might be times where breaking bonds will make you stronger. There was something like this in chapter 1, too, where Ralsei seems to realize after fighting the king that the party can't always spare everyone.

This is in pretty stark contrast to Undertale, where the fight/spare mechanic basically meant choosing between life and death for any character. The character you're fighting doesn't get any say in the matter in Undertale. In Deltarune, you (or, more accurately, Kris) don't have the power to kill someone. You can only beat them up badly enough that they choose not to join you. At some point in the later chapters, making someone not want to join you might be a better decision.

4. Berdly

If you just focus on the Queen, Berdly tries to remove it himself, damaging his arm in the process. When he wakes up in the light world later, he still can't move his arm.

In the first battle with Queen, Berdly is attached to one of her plugs. You can loosen it to free him, like you did with the Werepires.

You didn't hurt Berdly. But if you choose to ignore him to focus on finishing the fight instead, his own actions in response cause him to be hurt anyway.

5. Snowgrave

Kris doesn't seem to have the ability to kill. Neither does Susie or Ralsei.

But Noelle does.

It's important to note that the player doesn't have complete control over anyone in the party except Kris. At the start of chapter 1, Susie makes her own choices in battle. Even in chapter 2, you can't take equipment off her unless you're swapping in something else (she tells you "Hands off!" if you try). The characters can just straight up refuse to follow your/Kris' orders if they want.

If you command Noelle to brute force puzzles, to "get" the ring, to ice all the Darkners, she gets used to hurting others to feel stronger. Then she can use Snowgrave - the only action that specifies it is lethal - in the fight with Berdly. When you tell Noelle to use Snowgrave, she refuses several times. She even tells you that she "doesn't know a spell called Snowgrave" to get you to stop. If you keep badgering her, she finally snaps, and chooses to cast it.

The wildest part about the Snowgrave route, in my opinion, is that there doesn't even seem to be any reward for doing it. In Undertale, the whole appeal of the No Mercy route was the epic boss fights that couldn't be played on any other route. The reward was the challenge. In Snowgrave, you skip almost half of the story and multiple boss fights. And for what? A slightly harder version of a boss you can also fight on any other run?

You can manipulate Noelle into making a terrible choice and presumably killing Berdly, seemingly just for the hell of it. After you return to the light world, the only things that change in the story are that Berdly doesn't wake up and Noelle is scared out of her mind if she sees you wearing her watch. Susie still walks you home. Toriel still asks Susie to stay over. Kris still slashes the tires on Toriel's car and opens a new foundation. Nothing major changes.

All Snowgrave seems to do is get you to the same ending faster.

Deltarune is about choices, sure. But more accurately, it's about how your choices affect the people around you, and how that informs their choices, and so on.

So, what's more important than reaching the end? It's how you - and the characters - chose to get there. It's about the journey, not the destination.

[debrisyume]

I’ve seen lots of talk about Kris doesn’t seem to like Ralsei, and how we’re probably supposed to like him more than Kris to make it more clear that we’re different than them. This is an interesting idea, and I’m glad people are being more considerate of Kris’s feelings compared to the aftermath of chapter 1. However, I don’t think it’s super likely? Toby is already more than aware that not everyone loves Ralsei, so the idea that this is how we’re supposed to think of him in contrast to Kris is... weird, and I came away from chapter 2 thinking that Kris does consider him a friend. I will go into detail as to why in this post. Warning for some big Deltarune chapter 2 spoilers, including the alternate route!

Kris calls for Ralsei’s help in the Weird Route final boss, in fact, they call for him first, even though Susie comes before him in the party line, and frankly she’s the stronger one anyway, so logically she would come first, but Kris still chooses to call for Ralsei before her. 

Kris hears Ralsei encouraging them in the Game Over screen. In the UTDR universe, I highly doubt you would hear the voice of someone you don’t care for as a way to convince yourself not to stay dead.

In the normal Spamton NEO fight, Spamton offers Kris “everything he has” in exchange for their soul, and they seem to reject this because of their friends, considering how Spamton then goes “Friends?! Kris?! What are you talking about?! You don’t need friends!!”. What most people will take from this is that they’re talking about Ralsei and Susie, because they’re the friends that are with them right now, and I don’t see why that can’t be true.

The save point after Kris splits off from Susie and Ralsei describes them as missing both.

It’s already been talked about that Kris influences the actions we pick for them, such as taking the money ‘reluctantly’ or how they say they want to perish enthusiastically. People also point out when they’re acting OOC, such as Noelle saying it’s not like Kris to be pushy with her in the Weird Route. 

They also do resist some things, such as them refusing to drop the Lancer and Roulx cards, and not dropping the ball of junk the first time we tell them to do so.

Nothing like this happens when we make Kris be nice to Ralsei or hug him, so I’m inclined to think neither of those actions are OOC for Kris.

But wait, doesn’t Kris hate hugs?

Actually, they seem to really enjoy them!

I was mistaken about this myself, but Asgore never said Kris hated hugs. He’s talking specifically about the crushing bear hug he just gave them. Toriel also hugs them and I don’t think she would do that if she knew they disliked them, and she should know them better than Asgore at this point.

Let’s look at how Kris reacts to hugging the Dummy in chapter 2.

Hmm, instead of us hearing about how icky Kris felt from hugging an effigy of Ralsei, it says that there’s nothing wrong with some extra fluffiness! Remember that the narrator is in tune with Kris’s feelings and often lets us know when Kris hates doing something or doesn’t feel good about it. How else are we supposed to figure out what they want, and learn more about Kris as a person? 

Here’s the flavor text if you don’t hug the dummy. I find the phrasing really funny, it’s saying Kris up until this point was taking the ‘path of fluffiness’. That might be referring to hugging Ralsei or hugging their family. I think they just enjoying hugging fluffy goat people in general.

The flavor text here would have been a perfect moment for Toby to subtly reveal that Kris hates hugging Ralsei, but that’s not the impression you get from hugging the dummy at all. If anything, it sounds like they want to be affectionate with him, but are usually too embarrassed to...? Which is why the narration makes a point to assure that “no one’s looking”.

There are other opportunities Toby had to make it clear Kris doesn’t like Ralsei: Have someone point out they look annoyed to be giving the gift to Ralsei, make Susie say Kris looks uncomfortable when they stand close to Ralsei for long enough that he starts blushing, us having to click “Hug Ralsei” twice to show Kris is resisting the command, but none of that happens! 

I also think Kris influences the ACTs and overworld options to an extent, and what do we see there?

In the dummy battle you can only hug Ralsei or hug the dummy. I don’t think it would be there at all if Kris wasn’t considering it. (The quality is bad because I screenshotted it from a youtube video)

Let’s also look at the Berdly fight.

(I didn’t take a screenshot of the ACTs for Berdly’s fight just pretend you can see “Play Dumb” and “Play Smart” up there, also pretend you can’t see how much I suck at this game)

Kris knows exactly what to do when we click ‘Play Dumb’, in fact there’s a bunch of different ‘dumb’ things they do. They knew exactly how to spare Berdly from being his “rival” for so long, whether it’s them playing dumb or making Noelle play smart, which is why those ACTs come up.

I don’t think Pirouette would show up if Kris didn’t know how to do one, as they’re very difficult to get right (again I took this screenshot from a youtube video)

If none of this is that convincing, I get being skeptical, but I think I have something that will help:

When we shift perspectives to Susie (screenshots from a video again, I uh, never saw this scene in-game lol. I didn’t realize this was similar to the prison scene until later), she doesn’t actually listen to what we say because she can’t hear us, but her thoughts clearly influence the options!

She really doesn’t want Noelle to know ‘Susiezilla’ is a common fantasy of hers, so the only option is to lie.

She doesn’t actually ‘do something crazy’ but asks Noelle what she would do if she could do something crazy right now, showing the idea is on her mind.

Back in chapter 1, we can make Kris eat moss, and you would be forgiven for thinking they don’t actually want to eat any, but in chapter 2 they look pleased to find some with Noelle and eat it unprompted with Susie! I think the only reason ‘eat moss’ comes up at all in chapter 1 is because they were thinking about it.

This is just speculation, but I think the reason why the options for Ralsei are either “be friendly” or “be stand-offish” is because a part of Kris wants to grow closer and be better friends, while the other side of them wants to push him away. We’re ““”helping””” Kris out by making their choices for them, so they don’t have worry about being too indecisive god forbid they get to live their own life

I want to talk about the post Spamton NEO scene real quick. If you turn Ralsei into the ‘Hug Prince’ beforehand he hugs Kris in the scene, and I think it did make them feel better. They ask Susie for a hug too, and going by her reaction they don’t look upset anymore and might have even been asking as a joke (I don’t think they seriously expected a ‘yes’ from her of all people). If Kris looked like they still needed a hug (or if Ralsei’s hug made them noticeably uncomfortable), I imagine Susie would turn them down more tactfully. Either way, I don’t see why Kris asking Susie for a hug has to be taken as a rejection of Ralsei’s hug. 

(I would show more screenshots of what she said but honestly searching through all my Deltarune screenshots is really, tiring lol here’s the full scene in a youtube video. The way she reacts really came across to me as Kris doing it in a teasing way. They don’t even look at her while she’s talking to them until they ask for one, they just keep their face turned toward Ralsei. Both versions of this scene, Kris asking for a hug or Susie’s jacket, might indicate preference for Susie, but not necessarily dislike for Ralsei? It’s open to interpretation imo). 

I want to talk about another Dummy scene. Start watching during the 50 second mark in this video. We can tell Kris to ‘bite on the clothes’ here and they choose instead to bite on the cheek, right in front of Ralsei! Going by their childhood friendship with Noelle, I think when Kris tries to freak you out it’s a sign of affection :) 

That’s all I wanted to go over for now. Even discounting my personal analysis of certain things, I think I can safely conclude Kris considers Ralsei a friend. But we don’t have the full context of their relationship as of right now, so maybe something will come up later that will prove me wrong! I hope this post was interesting to read even if you disagree.

Also as a bonus:

(edit: I CAN’T BELIEVE I HAD THE SCREENSHOTS IN THE WRONG ORDER BEFORE... not that it really changes anything if Ralsei laughed first or not but I made sure to fix it)

Here’s what happens if you make Kris stay quiet during one of the Swan Ride options. I think the dialogue here is interesting. 

I’ve seen theories about how Ralsei cares about the Player more than Kris, but this dialogue makes me think otherwise. He’s outright saying he prefers it when they get to act like themselves. Combined with just how well Ralsei knows Kris (the pie recipe, their love of chocolate, how they like playing video games, and the room he made for them), I find it hard to believe Ralsei only likes the Player.

Am I trying to say everything between Kris and Ralsei should be taken at face value and that their friendship will be perfectly sweet and wholesome? Not at all. I think it’s very likely Kris has some complicated feelings regarding him, and that Ralsei might do something questionable later. However, I also think any conflict between them in future would be more interesting in the context that they care for each other. Kris’s feelings for Ralsei being more nuanced than plain dislike or indifference is just an idea I like better.

[songfell-ut]

Merry Xmas toooo

Hey @venelona remember when I was talking about that Beauty & the Beast thing in your server

Well, I copied myself, ‘cause Sans is still not good at following through on getting a human soul, and a stray bit of paper drives the plot once more.

This is nowhere near finished because it’s me. I’ll polish it up and put it on AO3 once my other gift is done for tomorrow (she said famous-last-words-ly). 

Prepare yourself for a shock: I wrote something long. Indents, meh. Warning, Sans is stupid.

Today was not a good day: it was cold, he had to get married, and now there was a human in his garden.

           This was problematic for many reasons. For one thing, as the literal lord of all he surveyed, Sans always found it hard to get any alone time, much less a chance to nap. He’d started coming outside each night after dinner to doze off for a few precious minutes, at least until the wind whistled through his sockets one time too many or his brother started yelling at him over the wall. On this particular evening, though, after his chat with Toriel, his sole aim was to avoid seeing anyone; luckily, he’d already forbidden the others from coming into the garden, and he was prepared to stay out here forever if he had to, weather and Papyrus be damned.

Sans was not prepared to take a shortcut to his favorite bench by the nightshades and sit down, only to catch sight of someone hunched behind a bush at the end of the row. The skeleton scrambled to his feet in sudden panic, readying his magic to defend himself. Who or what the hell was that? No one should be here—this was his place! Had Toriel told him all that crap to trick him into going out alone, then sent someone after him? But how?

His instinct was to attack first, but for all Sans knew, this was some kind of trap; instead, he watched and listened, waiting for the thing to make its move. His soul thrummed like a harpstring, ready to summon bones to skewer the intruder, or teleport away—

But nothing happened. As the seconds ticked by, Sans gradually realized that the small, dark-clothed figure wasn’t crouched to spring at him or lying in wait, just bending down to examine the flowers. He couldn’t sense any malicious intent whatsoever; in fact, it didn’t seem to know he was there, or that he was coming closer for a better look.

Well, no wonder: it was wearing a cloak with a deep hood that blocked its peripheral vision, and it was facing into the wind, where it couldn’t hear or smell anyone sneaking up from behind. That meant the intruder was either very confident or really fucking stupid.

Maybe it was just Monster Kid or one of the others screwing with him? After all, no matter how often Sans told them to stay the hell out of his garden, and no matter how strongly his subjects were compelled to obey him, he kept finding rocks, bits of bone, and other junk the little bastards had tossed over the wall. Things had gotten better since Papyrus started patrolling the outer courtyard, happy to combine his favorite pastimes of keeping things tidy and beating the shit out of people, but…

           But no, this wasn’t a kid who’d found a loophole in his orders, or an adult monster strong enough to defy him. Sans took a couple of quick shortcuts at different angles to appraise the intruder, confirming that it wasn’t sized or shaped like anyone he knew; it also failed to react when he stepped through an arch of greenery just a few feet away. No shift of attention, no magic gathering to attack or defend itself—who could possibly be that dumb? None of the surviving monsters would ever dream of dropping their guard like this, not even the kids!

The wind shifted, and Sans’ nasal ridge twitched as an unfamiliar stench hit him. He recognized the scent of leather from its clothes, but there were strong hints of…some kind of hair, and…bodily fluids? There was something missing, too, so basic that it took Sans a minute to pinpoint it: the trespasser had no magic whatsoever.

That was the most confusing thing of all. No matter how fishy or perfumed or otherwise gross they might be, everyone had that dry, slightly spicy smell. Had someone dressed up an animal and released it into the garden as a prank? A thrill of fear raced through him again—did Toriel’s curse include female animals? It’d be just like her to dump that on him and then make sure he ran into a bear or a deer or something!

           Suddenly, the intruder sighed heavily, straightened up, and shook its hood off. To Sans’ shock, it wasn’t an animal or a monster: the thing standing in his garden was a human. It turned its back to the wind, squinting down at the white-stoned path and up at the surrounding wall, the smooth black marble shining rose-gold in the twilight.

           What the hell was a human doing here? At least it was a male; Sans relaxed a little, then shook himself and edged forward.

Humans were legendary for their cruelty and cunning, but this particular specimen didn’t seem very dangerous. Beneath its dusty travel clothes and heavy cloak, it was almost as short at Sans, with a wrinkly face and gray streaks in its hair. Did all humans get like that after only…what, fifty years? Granted, Sans was just twenty-five, a baby by monster standards, but he wouldn’t be this twitchy or feeble when he reached the human’s age. And he wouldn’t be dumb enough to wander into someone else’s territory after sundown!

           The man had started walking again, still oblivious to Sans’ presence, and paused at a fork in the path. Sans silently willed him to turn right, and he’d been obeyed by everyone he knew for so long that it was a surprise to see the human go left instead. The skeleton watched in irritation, then disbelief, as his uninvited guest sat down on a low wall and pulled a map out of his pocket.

           That had to be the stupidest thing Sans had ever seen. Did human maps of the area include HAUNTED CASTLE ON FORBIDDEN MOUNTAIN? He doubted it. Besides, there was a village at the foot of the mountain, straight down through the forest; even if he couldn’t find the main path, all this moron had to do was walk downhill, back the…way he’d…

Wait. How had he even gotten in here?

           Quick as thought, Sans zipped over to the massive iron gates that stood between the castle and the outside world. Sure enough, the ivy growing between the bars had been disturbed at one end where the man had squeezed through. Sans extended one bony finger very, very slowly toward the gate, and as his phalange approached the nearest bar, the air filled with a warning hum, his bones prickling with alarm till he stepped away.

The barrier was still working, then. What had the King said before they dusted him? Anything could get in, but nothing could get out…except a monster in possession of a human soul. But there were no—

           The skeleton monster’s sockets widened again, this time in excitement. He grinned hugely, then took a shortcut back to the human, who was trying to fold up the map. Just in case, Sans peered at the human’s chest, gauging how much effort this would take.

           His elation immediately vanished, disgust welling up in its place. Of all the humans who could’ve wandered up here, it had to be one with a pathetically weak, almost sickly little soul—and why did it have to be green? Fucking Kindness! Talk about shitty luck!

           Not that he was going to pass up the opportunity, of course. Absorbing any human soul, no matter how crappy, would give him power greater than every other monster who’d ever lived, combined. He could finally pass through the gates, descend on the human village like a force of nature, grab as many souls as he wanted, and come back here to destroy the ga—no, he’d wreck the whole fucking castle! The others would finally be free, too, though he wouldn’t be stupid enough to share any souls with them. Maybe Pap could have a few, just enough to fulfill his dream of tearing Undyne to pieces, and to help eliminate Toriel; then they’d be untouchable in a world where “kill or be killed” was the only rule!

Sans was jerked back to the present by the human making a horribly wet noise and pulling a square of cloth from his pocket. Why was this disgusting sack of flesh even here, anyway? As far as Sans knew, no one had come near the castle for decades; even the local wildlife stayed far away. Yet here he was, an ordinary-looking human who had come all the way up the mountain in the approaching dark.

The man had finally sensed something wrong and was looking around uneasily. “Hello?” he called. Sans stayed where he was, silent and contemptuous; sure enough, the human’s gaze swept right past him. “Odd,” he murmured, lowering the map and folding it in half.

           Sans knew he should go ahead and kill the guy now, but the wind chose that moment to pick back up, rustling through the flowers and nearly yanking the map out of the human’s hands; the man swore and fumbled at the stiff parchment, fighting to keep hold of it.

The skeleton chuckled, almost pityingly. As lord of the castle, he decided he could be magnanimous and let this moron finish putting the map away. Besides, it was funny as hell to watch him lose to a piece of paper.

           Eventually, the man gave up and tried instead to stuff the half-folded map into his pocket, pulling a few things out to make room. Enough of this, thought Sans, his amusement fading. The skeleton took a few steps forward, letting his magic swell to a darkly feverish pitch and drift off him like red smoke. He was probably scary enough as it was, but anything worth doing was worth overdoing, especially when it’d make the human’s reaction that much funnier.

           Besides, this idiot had trespassed on Sans’ land and his solitude at exactly the wrong time. A quick, clean death was too good for him, but it couldn’t be helped: Sans had to get his soul out in one piece and reach the village before daybreak. Ha, maybe he’d put his hood up and pretend to be the Reaper the humans feared so much—wasn’t that why they had exterminated every single skeleton monster but him and Pap? He’d give the fuckers something to be afraid of!

It was time, all right. The human had finally sensed someone at his back, and began to turn around. “Excuse me, I—”

           Another gust of wind suddenly came howling through the garden and tore the map out of the human’s grip. It landed with a thk and skidded along the white-stoned path; with it went a couple of envelopes he’d set on his lap, and another, much smaller piece of paper, which blew straight into the nearest flowerbed.

           The human’s demeanor changed in an instant from annoyance to panic. “No!” He flailed at the air, then stumbled over the wall, charging through the flowers. “Come back here!” he yelled, as if the wind or the paper could understand him.

           Sans froze, feeling his magic go still as the blossoms answered—or, rather, echoed: “Come back here!” What the hell was the guy doing tromping around like that? Those were echo flowers, not daisies! One of them was worth twenty of this dumbfuck!

The wind was still blowing, but after a few clumsy grabs, the human threw himself full-length onto the ground, trapping the paper amongst the squished flowers. He sighed gustily – ha – and stood up, smiling. “There you are,” he murmured, his voice clear as the wind dropped to a light breeze.

The skeleton couldn’t see what the human was looking at so fondly. In his irate curiosity, he hesitated another moment too long: “Hm,” the man said to himself. “Yes, that’ll do.” He crouched again, grabbed a blossom at random, and plucked it clean out of the ground.

           “What the fuck?”

           Sans’ roar shattered the air like a rock through a stained-glass window. He was too angry to enjoy the human’s shriek of terror, or his attempt to turn and run; the skeleton jerked his hand up and sideways, yanking the man off his feet and hurling him onto the path. “Who the fuck d’you think you are?” snarled Sans. His magic flared up again as he advanced, staining the footpath red. “Huh?”

           The human was trembling violently, staring up at him. “Are you deaf or somethin’?” the monster demanded. He grabbed the man by the collar, hauling him to his feet. “Answer me, or I’ll rip yer fuckin’ head off!”

           The human gulped. “I…” He squeezed his eyes shut, sweat rolling off his face. “P-P-Please forgive me, my lord! I-I was being pursued by bandits, and they didn’t stop until I reached this place! I needed shelter, someone to point the way home—” He peeked up at Sans again, almost hiccuping in fear. “I-If you’ll permit me to leave, I swear I’ll never trouble you again!”

           Sans glanced up at a nearby lantern hanging on an iron post, and it obligingly lit itself. “That’s for damn sure,” said the skeleton. His wrath faded a little as his prisoner gaped at him in the clearer light. Now he understood the expression “bug-eyed,” not to mention “slack-jawed”; it was one of the funniest things he’d ever seen. Still… “You expect me to believe ya just wandered in here outta nowhere?” Sans jerked his head at the castle looming behind him, though the moon hadn’t risen to provide a properly spooky silhouette. “Didja think you could sneak in, grab somethin’, an’ get out before anybody noticed? ‘Cause I fuckin’ noticed!” He stabbed a finger at the echo flower in the human’s hand. “That shit doesn’t grow just anywhere!”

           The man blinked stupidly at the flower, as if surprised to see it. His eyes darted back and forth, his other hand sneaking toward his pocket. “I…I can explain, my l—”

           “Uh-uh.” Sans waggled his finger, and the human cried out as his hand was yanked straight over his head, the little slip of paper fluttering to the ground. Ignoring his protests, Sans made a couple more gestures to open the man’s coat and run a thread of magic through the pockets, then the lining. He frowned as he found several coins, letters, a comb, a pipe…but no weapons.

Huh. If the human hadn’t been going for a knife or something, then what the hell was he doing? Was he just trying to put the paper away? How goddamn stupid could he—

           “Please!” the man almost shrieked, and Sans was startled into releasing him. He watched the human stumble back, dropping the echo flower in his haste to run after the slip of paper again. Luckily for him, it blew against the corner of another bench, where he could easily stoop to retrieve it. The map lay nearby, but the human didn’t even look at it; he sighed in relief, and started to turn around.

           Sans was directly in front of him, grinning at his strangled squeak. “Whatcha got there?” The skeleton didn’t wait for an answer, just reached for it.

           “No!” To his astonishment, the man flailed at him, backing away till his shins hit the bench. “I-It’s nothing!” the human babbled. “Nothing at all! Just a picture that I didn’t want to lose! You can leave it!”

           Later, Sans would try to blame himself for not being more careful. But he had every right to be curious, and no reason to be thinking of Toriel right then; it was only natural for him to use his magic to grab the paper and hold it up to see what was so fucking important. So, he did.

           The human was right: it was a delicate ink drawing. Sans felt the smirk slide right off his face, and he took the picture in both hands, peering so intently that he didn’t even notice the man grabbing his sleeve. “Who’s this?” the skeleton inquired, trying to sound careless. “Yer wife?”

           “My daughter!” The guy was actually jumping to try to grab it, like a frantic kid. “As I said, it’s worth nothing to you! Please give it back!”

Sans absently pushed the human off with his elbow, raising the paper to the light. “Knock it off,” he grunted as the man came right back.

The human’s sheeplike face contorted. “Has milord never seen a woman before? Give it ba—”

Skeletal fingers shot out and locked around his throat. To Sans’ surprise, when he glared down at the human, the man glared right back, even as he clawed at Sans’ radius. “Why d’you want it so bad? Is she dead or somethin’?” the monster asked in sudden hope.

The human’s eyes bulged wider, and he struggled to speak until Sans loosened his grip. After a bit of coughing and puffing, the man rasped, “How dare you? She’s my child, you wretched beast!” He dashed Sans’ hopes with a jerky shake of the head. “I’ve been away from her for over a month, and I was only hours from home when I was attacked! That’s all I’ve had of her! If I’m going to die at your hand, the very least you can do is let me see it one more time!”

           Sans’ jaw clenched so hard that his single golden tooth creaked under the pressure. He shut his sockets, aware that he had to think very carefully before he spoke. “I got some questions for ya,” he snarled. “Tell me the truth, an’ you might leave in one piece.” He opened his sockets, his ruby eyelights pulsing across the human’s face. “Got it?”

           The wind shrieked past them again, but Sans held both the human and the slip of paper steady. The man stared at him in clear distrust; Sans wasn’t sure if he was being brave, or stupid, or what, but he wasn’t cowering anymore. As a slight token of respect, the skeleton opened his hand, letting the human jerk away. “Yes, milord,” the latter whispered, massaging his throat. “Whatever you wish.”

           Sans snorted, and snuck another glance at the portrait. “What’s your family name? What were you doin’ away from home fer so long?”

           The man’s brow wrinkled further. “My name is Proust, milord. I’m a merchant, so I travel frequently. I’ve been investigating a business opportunity in the capital.”

           A merchant? That was hard to believe. The coins in the human’s pockets consisted solely of pennies and a few silver pieces that Sans didn’t recognize; Proust was dressed fairly well, but on closer inspection, the fur trim of his cloak was patchy, while his leather coat was shiny with age. Either he was a cheapskate, or he hadn’t made any real money in a long time. “How’d it go?” Sans asked sardonically.

           “Poorly, milord,” the man snapped. “I promised Frisk I’d bring her something from the city, but then I could barely afford to pay my way home.” He looked down at the echo flower, which lay on the stones between them. “She likes gardening, so…”

           Sans knew he should make another fuss about the theft, but he had a bigger problem. “‘Frisk’?” he repeated. “Is that a nickname or somethin’?”

           “No,” Proust said stiffly. “What else would my lord care to know?”

           Sans gave him another glare, and though the man flinched, he didn’t look away. “Heh,” the skeleton murmured. “She your only kid?”

           “Yes, my lord. My wife died in childbirth. Frisk…” His voice caught. “She’s all I have left.”

The monster grimaced. He almost would’ve preferred an aggressive human to a sappy one. “How old is she?” The paper trembled. It wasn’t the wind: his hands were shaking. “Did you leave her home alone, or with ‘er husband, or…?”

           The human eyed him in rightful suspicion. “She’s twenty-two, my lord. We live with my brother’s family. She’s unwed—I’ve had several offers for her hand, but she refused them all.”

“Why?” Sans asked bluntly.

Proust blinked a few times. “She didn’t love them. She didn’t even like most of them, and the one she might have accepted left because my brother wouldn’t give her a dowry. Why do you—”

“A dowry?” Sans repeated. “The hell is that?”

This was obviously a sensitive question: the human’s face turned a weird color, and something pulsed near his eyebrow—a vein? Was that what it was called? Sans turned his head in disgust, studying the portrait again. If she had veins, he couldn’t see any.

The human cleared his throat. “It’s a gift of money or other goods that a woman brings to a marriage. Many young women in our social class have a difficult time finding a husband without one, and…”

“An’ you don’t have enough cash to sell her off?” Sans waved a hand as Proust swelled with rage again. “Never mind. Whatever stupid shit humans get up to, I don’ care.” He was quiet for a moment. “Just seems pathetic that you’ve gotta pay someone to take ‘er.”

“Was milord listening?” the human demanded. “I’ve had six other gentlemen ask to marry her, and four were willing to forego any dowry at all! She was good enough!”

It was Sans’ turn to twitch. “Why? What’s so great about ‘er?”

Proust made a noise like an angry frog. “May I humbly entreat milord to explain his gracious interest in my family?”

           Sans toyed with the idea of telling him the truth, and shrugged. “Just curious. So, I’m guessin’ you wanna see her again?”

           “Yes, milord, absolutely,” the man said in a rush. “I’d do anything—you have no idea how much she means to me!” He looked longingly at the paper in Sans’ hand, still held up to the lamplight. “She drew that herself,” he added.

           Sans started. “Really?” he asked before he could stop himself.

           “Yes, indeed,” the human said proudly.

           The skeleton scowled at the picture. It was a perfect rendition of a young woman seated at a table, wearing an old-fashioned gown; her dark hair was twisted up into a bun, showing a small earring, a pearl necklace, and a graceful curve of neck and shoulder. Now that Proust mentioned it, she did seem to be drawing herself in the mirror, one hand holding a pencil and the other steadying the paper, her head tilted to look up at Sans.

           For a moment, he was so angry that he couldn’t breathe. This was bullshit! Why should he pass up his chance at unlimited power because of a girl who probably wasn’t even that pretty in real life? He should just rip the stupid picture in half, rip the human in half, grab his shitty green soul, and get things started!

           But the longer he stared at the paper, the less he wanted to rip it in half, kill the human, become godlike, etc. etc. It just seemed…boring? Unnecessary?

Tch. This was all Toriel’s fault! She’d called him to her room that evening in an absolute fit of laughter and told him exactly what was going to happen, and the old bitch knew he’d come down here afterward and—

           And he couldn’t stay mad about it. Instead, something weird was happening behind his sternum, a sticky kind of warmth spreading like an infection through his ribcage and down his limbs. No matter how hard he tried to dwell on being jerked around, or why it had to be some squishy human with a dumb father and a weird name, Sans couldn’t look away from the portrait, caught by the girl’s clear, bright eyes. No one had ever smiled at him like that…

           He came down here every night to get away from everyone, but what if…what if he had someone he didn’t want to get away from? Unbidden, a thought crept up: what would the garden look like with this human in it, helping water the flowers or sitting with him to watch the sun set? What would it be like to always have someone to talk to about stuff bothering him, help with all the day-to-day crap of running the household…smile at him, keep him warm at night—

Shit! Had Toriel laughed at him because she knew he’d actually want this to happen?

           “Hello?” Proust was asking. “Milord? Is something wrong?”

           Sans shook himself. “Fine, she can draw. Does she know how ta do anything?” That’d be a perfect excuse to forget about her. If he wanted to keep something cute and useless around, he could just put a collar on one of the kids and make it do tricks!

           The human actually laughed at him. “We went to stay with my brother, milord, when Frisk was fourteen years old. He was a widower, so she took it upon herself to be the lady of the house. Within a few months, she was managing his servants, balancing his accounts, organizing his social affairs—clear up till he remarried last year.” His narrow chest puffed out. “It’s a large part of the reason she’s been sought after. Any man would be lucky to have her.”

           The monster’s hands were trembling again, a strange sensation burning him from the inside out. “Is—” It was a childish question, but he couldn’t help it: “Is she nice?”

           Proust looked at him strangely. “Yes, milord. She is.” He flinched as Sans’ grip on the drawing tightened. “Forgive me,” the man quavered, “but why do you—”

“Gimme your hand,” growled the skeleton. He gestured, keeping the paper suspended in midair as he lowered his own hands. “Take the glove off.”

           Proust swallowed once or twice, then obeyed. Sans didn’t hide his distaste as he took hold of Proust’s wrist, the human’s pulse twitching against his thumb. For a second, he didn’t know if he could go through with it; then he glanced at the portrait, and said, “Don’t move.” Before he could lose his nerve, the monster lifted a skull-shaped pendant from beneath his shirt, positioned the human’s finger between its tiny jaws, and willed them to snap shut.

           Proust yelped as the pendant latched onto his finger. “What in God’s name is that thing?” he cried, trying to shake it off.

“Magic,” Sans said pleasantly. The poor skull didn’t seem to like it any more than the human did: its jaws sprang right back open, and he could’ve sworn he saw it make a face at him.

Proust was staring at his hand in disbelief, searching for signs of any blood or puncture wounds—nothing. “What…?”

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” Sans tucked the pendant back under his shirt. “There’s a spot over by the gates where you can sleep. No one’s allowed in here, so you oughta be safe till morning. When you leave, jus’ head straight down the mountain. Pretty much any of the paths will take you to Ebott. I’d send ya there now, but my magic can’t get through the barrier on the gate.” He sighed. “Need ta pull some strings to get you back out at all.”

           The human was torn between intense relief and distrust. “Thank you, my lord. May I—”

           “Nope. Just be happy that’s all I did.” Sans indicated the man’s finger as Proust pulled his glove back on. “I’ll even let ya bring ‘er the flower. Nice, eh?”

           The man swallowed hard. “Yes, milord. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But…may I please ask why?”

The shadows seemed to creep in, darkening the lamplight. The human shrank back as the skeleton’s grin broadened. “Wanna hear somethin’ funny?” Sans reached up to run a finger along the portrait’s bottom edge. “I’m the boss around here, but there’s a lady hangin’ around I can’t get rid of, and she knows stuff. Guess what she told me ‘fore I came out here. Go on, guess!”

Proust looked nearly sick. “I…I don’t know, my lord. What did she—”

“She said, ‘Congratulations!’ An’ I said, ‘On what?’ And she said, ‘On your upcoming marriage!’ So a’course, I said, ‘The fuck are you talkin’ about?’ An’ she said I was gonna meet my wife real soon.”

It was subtle, but Proust’s eyes flicked to Sans’ pelvis. The skeleton’s amusement vanished. Just like a human—didn’t he know how magic worked? “Yeah, my wife,” he growled. “Funny part is, she was right.” The monster took Frisk’s drawing in one hand and tapped the side of his skull with it. “Wanna know who Toriel said it’d be?”

The man didn’t move, except to make a noise vaguely resembling “Who?”

Sans chuckled. “The first woman I saw once I left the room.”

A beat of silence. Sans was wondering if he’d have to spell it out when Proust howled, “No!” and made a credible attempt to tackle Sans and grab his daughter’s picture. “You can’t—”

The skeleton sent him sprawling with one push. “Sorry, Dad,” he drawled. “I left the room, an’ I saw ‘er. That’s that.” He laughed harshly at the man’s expression. “What? She’s gonna get her own damn castle, lotsa nice stuff—I won’t even make you pay for ‘er!”

“You—” Sans watched, bemused, as the human sprang to his feet, fists clenched. “Tear me limb from limb if you want, but I am not giving my daughter to a thing like you!”

“Yeah, about that.” The skeleton raised a finger. “Y’know that little nibble ya got just now? ’s a great trick. Lemme show you how it works.” Hmm…what to do? Better not get carried away, or the guy would have a nervous breakdown before he could get his daughter up here. “Grab the echo flower and say, ‘I’m a stupid doo-doo butt.’”

Before Proust could protest, his body turned, stooped, and picked up the blue flower. He brought it to his lips, and said, very solemnly, “I’m a stupid doo-doo butt.” Then his head jerked up. “What in the—”

Sans hooted with laughter, fighting the urge to slap his future father-in-law on the back and accidentally break his spine. “See? When I say you’re gonna do somethin’, you don’t have a choice, do ya?” He sobered in an instant. “So, yer gonna go home an’ fetch ‘er for me. Got it?”

“It doesn’t matter what you’ve done to me,” Proust said defiantly. “You said it yourself. Once I pass your gates, your magic won’t have any effect.”

“Good thing it ain’t my magic, then. It’s yours.” He got a blank stare, and sighed in exasperation. This was getting old: it was chilly out here, and he had a lot of planning to do. “I don’ have time fer a whole magic lesson. What it boils down to is, yer a part’a this place now. The magic’s with you wherever you go. Even when ya get back home—”

Proust chose that moment to make a break for it. Sans watched him race toward the gates, then reappeared directly in front of the bars, forcing the human to stop short. “Listen,” he said coldly, forestalling Proust’s attempt to cover his ears. “Three days from now, you’re gonna bring Frisk here. Yer gonna tell ‘er whatever you need to make ‘er stay. Then you’re gonna shut up and leave, and you won’t come back.”

The human’s face was crumpling in a way that suggested something wet was about to happen. “You can’t be serious, milord! Please spare her! Kill me instead!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, quit bein’ dramatic!” Sans jerked his thumb at the castle. “Like I said, she’s gonna have everythin’ a lady could ever want. Almost everyone’s dead now, so there’s a bunch of neat stuff left. Hell, we got a whole room with nothin’ but jewelry in it.”

For some reason, this didn’t seem to reassure the human. “Frisk does not want things, and even if she could be bought off like that, a wonderful young woman like her has no business being entrapped by a loathsome abomination like y—”

“Shut your fucking mouth. Right. Fucking. Now.”

Proust’s teeth clicked shut as the air around Sans roiled with crimson magic. “Just for that,” the skeleton hissed. He stepped forward, jabbing the human’s shoulder with one pointed phalange, almost a claw. “Just for that, you’re not allowed ta make stuff up about her goin’ to school or marryin’ a human or somethin’. You’re gonna tell the truth: you fucked up an’ trespassed on my property, and you only get to live ‘cause you had somethin’ worth tradin’.” Another poke. “Let ‘er know that you’ve got three days from now—” Sans glanced at the rising moon. “—an’ if you’re not here by then, she gets ta watch her dad rot from the inside out.”

Another long moment of silence passed as the human stared up at Sans, hopelessness dawning as he searched in vain for any sign of mercy. There was no telling what he would have said if another sound hadn’t made them both jump: “SANS!” It came from over the marble wall, advancing rapidly. “YOU HAVE HAD EXACTLY AS MUCH LEISURE AS YOU DESERVE, LORD BROTHER! I HOPE YOUR TIME HAS BEEN RESTFUL, BECAUSE YOU HAVE FIFTEEN MISCREANTS TO DISCIPLINE AND A JAM SHORTAGE TO ADDRESS BEFORE YOU CAN RETIRE FOR THE NIGHT.” A stiff click-click of heeled boots. “I WILL BE WAITING IN YOUR SITTING ROOM. YOU ARE HUMBLY REQUESTED TO BE THERE WITHIN TEN MINUTES OR ELSE FACE SEVERE CONSEQUENCES!”

Sans mumbled a long stream of curse words as Papyrus’ footsteps strutted away. That reminded him of something. “Don’t even think about killin’ yerself or breakin’ a leg or somethin’ ta get out of this,” the skeleton said, still facing the garden wall. “I’ll say it one more time: go home, get ‘er packed up, an’ bring her back here on time. No tricks, no cute little loopholes, nothin’. Don’t bring anybody else with you, or I’ll kill ‘em. Got it?”

The human shuddered. “How—” His voice cracked. “How can you do this? You don’t have to do this! This is your castle, your land—surely there are enough women of your own kind to choose from? You don’t have to steal my daughter!”

The skeleton shifted to look at him. “Nope,” he said, and made to step around the human.

“Wait!” Proust fell to his knees, fists clasped in supplication. “One thing, my lord, I beg of you! Please don’t harm her!”

Sans could’ve cheerfully punted the man across the garden. “The fuck?” the monster snarled down at him. “Why the hell would I hurt my own wife? What am I, a goddamn human?”

There was no answer, only a ragged sob. “Good night,” the skeleton muttered. Proust tried to say something else, but Sans paid him no mind: he had things to do, and to look forward to.

~

           Her father was hiding something.

           That seemed impossible, and not just because he was a terrible liar: almost the moment he stumbled over the threshold of her uncle’s house in a filthy, sobbing heap, he had started babbling about a monster stealing his Frisk. Once he’d been cleaned up, fed, and tucked into bed, he’d stayed awake long enough to relate a horrible, fantastical tale of stumbling across the castle from local legend and running afoul of its hideous master. And they’d believed it, because…well, she loved her father, but he had the most wretched luck imaginable.

           At least her aunt had been asleep when all the commotion started, so there was nothing to stop Uncle Raph from assuring his brother that they would look into the matter as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Servants were dispatched to fetch books from the library and summon the nearest mage from his cottage outside the village; by the time Aunt Kay woke up, her maid could report to her that her brother-in-law had come home bearing a “geas,” a type of curse far too powerful for humans to break, and would lose his daughter in less than three days.

           Frisk had to give her aunt credit: she said all the correct things about being so very sorry and hoping that there was a way to save her poor niece from having to live with literal monsters, possibly for the rest of her life! And when it became apparent that there was nothing anyone could do, she was the first to embrace Frisk – as much as she could around her enormous belly, of course – and assure her that if any young woman could handle such a bizarre fate, it was her. She’d packed a bag of sentimental items for Frisk to take with her in case she got homesick, with only the slightest hint of glee at having sole dominion over the house now.

           Her father had come home with a cold brewing, because of course he had; knowing she was going to leave and having so little warning had caused chaos among the servants, and Frisk was too busy making arrangements to do more than check in on her father every few hours. He spent most of his time either asleep or staring at the beautiful blue flower he’d brought her.

           That was the last bit of proof anyone needed to believe his story. Echo flowers only grew in intensely magical surroundings, and there was so little magic left nowadays that they were thought to be extinct. But here it was, a thick-stemmed, six-petaled blossom that repeated anything spoken nearby. Frisk would’ve been more excited about it under different circumstances, but…well, maybe her new employer would let her have a few of her own.

           The whole thing was strange, all the more so because of the way her father had told that part when they were gathered to listen to his story. He’d said he was bound to do what the creature commanded him, which was to bring his daughter up to the castle within three days’ time. The most logical supposition was that Frisk was going to get eaten, but her father had hastened to assure them that the beast seemed angry at the very idea of hurting Frisk. He just wanted…

           There was that little hitch in his voice when he said the beast wanted Frisk to perform all the functions of a housekeeper, and that she would be well rewarded—why hadn’t he just said “The monster needs a housekeeper”? And why had he clutched his chest like that afterward? Was the geas hurting him for saying the wrong thing?

           Frisk had kept herself too busy to think about it very hard, to believe that she was really going to be thrown out of another home and into the clutches of monsters from myth and legend; on some level, she could convince herself that her father had exaggerated or made some kind of mistake, and it wasn’t going to be so bad. But now, nearing sunset on the third day after her father’s misadventure, they were most of the way up the mountain, and fear was starting to creep through her veins like frost. Her father could be naïve, even simple-minded, but he wasn’t crazy. She really was going to be left alone in a strange place full of strange creatures, expected to take care of them, answering to a walking, talking skeleton—this couldn’t be happening!

A couple of the younger manservants had insisted on accompanying them part of the way. The mage had warned them that they could only get so close to the castle before the horses refused to go any further; sure enough, about a mile from the castle gates, the men had to help them dismount before the animals grew frightened enough to turn and bolt. Frisk gave each man a quick hug – at least her aunt wasn’t there to scold her – and they reluctantly headed back down the mountain to wait with the terrified horses, ready to escort her father home.

           The latter was growing more and more agitated as they approached the castle on foot. He could barely speak with his throat raw from coughing, but the way he kept glancing at her, clearing his throat and sighing heavily— “What is it, Father?” Frisk finally asked.

           “I…” He swallowed. “I haven’t been entirely truthful, dear.” She stiffened, shifting her bundle to her other shoulder as he coughed into his handkerchief. “The creature didn’t order me to say the exact words in just the right order, and I didn’t want to humiliate you in front of everyone by telling the full story—”

           “What story?” The lump in her throat grew heavier as the trees started thinning out, the ground sloping sharply upward. “Is it really true that I have to stay with the monsters and keep house for them?”

           “It’s true, love, but…” Another maddening pause. “Er. He is a skeleton, so I believe you’ll be spared…some things, but running the household is included in your role as—”

           The wind rose from nothing to a scream of frigid air, nearly throwing them to the ground. Frisk lowered her arm, and to her dismay… “We’re here,” her father croaked.

           In the dying light, a huge wall loomed over them, black marble framing a set of gates over thirty feet tall. The bars were nearly obscured by climbing ivy; despite her fear, Frisk found herself drifting closer in sheer curiosity, reaching to pull the ivy aside.

           “Frisk!” her father croaked. He was almost unrecognizable, pulling her back and giving her a little shake. “I…” She watched him struggle with himself, and lose. “Stay here, and be good,” he said jerkily. His lips formed a few frantic words, but she couldn’t catch them before he crushed her to him in a sudden, fierce embrace. “Be careful,” he whispered. “I love y—”

           The sun had disappeared over the horizen. Before she could hug him back, Frisk felt something coursing through her father’s body, forcing his arms to drop and his legs to carry him back a step. He struggled to get more words out, but it was too late—what had his last orders been? “Shut up and leave”? Charming, and succinct…and effective.

This was it. Frisk had had plenty of practice at smiling, and did her best. “Goodbye, Father,” she said helplessly. “I love you, too.” Then she turned and plunged through the ivy before he could hurt himself resisting any further.

           When she stepped free of the bars and brushed the leaves from her face, Frisk almost forgot her sorrow and despair in sheer wonder. Lamps on iron posts lit up a garden arranged in long, orderly, but breathtakingly lovely rows of bushes, flowerbeds, statuary—she’d never seen anything like it. Letting her bundle hang from one wrist, Frisk turned to look at the gates and the massive walls, wondering how big the grounds must be if this was just a private garden. Granted, it belonged to the lord of the castle, and he obviously cared enough to keep it in good order…

           And had terrorized her father into forcing her out of her home to come play housekeeper amongst total strangers for…how long? If the problem was just that monsters couldn’t cook or clean up after themselves, maybe she could stay long enough to teach them and then go back. Surely they didn’t expect her to do it all on her own forever, not when they had magic to help them do everything? But if they could do it with magic, then why bring her here at all?

           Frisk shook her head, scanning the garden for signs of life. She could hear a fountain burbling in the near distance, just out of sight; the wind was freezing, but carried the smell of flowers, helping calm the human down a little. It was enough to let her take a step forward, then a few more, wandering into the first stand of rosebushes and a patch of black irises. Their petals didn’t reflect light, but shone like velvet, tempting her to reach out—no, she thought hastily, snatching her hand away. Touching flowers without permission was what got her poor, well-meaning, hapless father into this mess!

           No one seemed to be coming to meet her, but then, it wasn’t completely dark yet. If she had a few minutes to herself, then Frisk figured she could spend it in peace and calm before she met her fate, whatever that might be, whatever her father had been trying to tell her… So the young woman stood up and set off down the path, taking her time examining the rows of irises, snapdragons, and several flowers that had no business blooming at this time of year.

She didn’t see a shadow step out from behind a lamppost. Nor did she notice when it hesitated, then vanished, reappearing behind another lamppost, and another, and another, till it was just a few steps away.

Frisk thought she felt someone watching her, but when she turned around, there was nothing there. Shivering, she drew her cloak tighter around her shoulders, squinting up at a faint outline against the darkening sky. The castle wasn’t exactly hard to find, but that didn’t mean she knew how to get there; the garden was so huge that she couldn’t tell which path led out of it. Maybe she should—

“h u m a n~”

Raw terror flooded her senses, and her brain screamed so many conflicting orders that nothing got through; Frisk could only stand stock-still, clutching her bundle till she summoned the courage to whirl around.

Nothing was there. Was her mind playing tricks on her? No, she couldn’t have imagined such an awful voice, deep and rough as—

A delicate tap, tap on her shoulder.

Frisk shrieked and twisted around, landing on her rear with an ungentle thmp. “What are you doing?” she yelled. “Who’s—”

The air went still, her lungs shriveling and her heart stopping at the sight of a skeleton – this must be the skeleton – looming over her. The smooth bone of its skull had a dull, velvety sheen like the iris’ petals, and dots of red hellfire glinted in its empty sockets. Its teeth – no, fangs – were bared in a cruel grin, hands buried in the pockets of its black coat; beneath it, the creature’s shirt was a surprisingly bright red—satin? The tidy, domestic corner of her mind wondered how expensive that had been, and how difficult it was to keep clean; as a matter of fact, the skeleton was more richly dressed than her father had been at the peak of his wealth, right down to a frankly garish gold tooth. This had to be the lord of the castle, beyond a doubt.

But his wealth was less important than the fact that a skeleton was staring down at her. It didn’t speak, or grab her, or do anything but stand there, its face unreadable. Surely it could talk, after the way it had cursed her father?

Anger surged through her, propelling her to her feet. “Greetings, my lord,” Frisk said coolly, stepping back to discreetly brush herself off and drop into a deep curtsey. One of them had to be civilized about this! “My name is Frisk. I am here by your command.”

The skeleton blinked, the bone of its sockets somehow closing just like a human’s eyelids. Frisk was almost too fascinated to be angry—almost. It silently shifted its weight. Was it a “he”? The monster was dressed like a male, and had sounded like it. Why wasn’t he saying anything else?

A light gust of wind flapped her hood against her neck. Shivering, she broke eye contact to hitch her bundle back over her shoulder and reach to pull the hood up. “I hope I’m not too late to—”

Quicker than she could blink, the creature was right in front of her, inches away. Frisk tried not to cringe as his bony fingers plucked the hood from her grasp, letting it drop against her back. “What…?” Stupidly, she reached up again, and the skeleton’s brows drew together. His fingers pushed her hand away and, to her shock, rose to brush her hair off her cheek.

That did it: she was willing to come here to save her father’s life, not to be scared out of her mind, stared down, kept freezing, and all but propositioned by the thing that had done this to them! Who did he think he was?! “I beg your pardon!” she snarled, and the skeleton’s sockets widened as she smacked his hand away. “You will not touch me without my permission, milord! And if I am not allowed to wear this—” Frisk waggled her hood. “—then you will please take me somewhere out of the wind!” She tried not to sniffle, and hoped he’d attribute it to the cold. Without thinking, she scratched her cheek, trying to erase the unwanted feeling of those smooth, warmish fingers on her skin. “Lead the way!”

To her alarm, the red light in his sockets vanished, as if she’d blown out a candle. “Yes, m’lady,” growled a voice from somewhere deep in its chest. Frisk gripped her bundle as the skeleton turned on its heel. “Come along.”

Frisk tried not to gulp too loud, and hoped it – he – couldn’t hear her heart pounding as she followed him across the garden. With the anger ebbing away, fear was reclaiming her, dulling the wind’s bite and the ache building in her feet from the walk here; her aunt had insisted she wear a respectable dress and heeled slippers to meet her new master, never mind how impractical they were for traveling, and Frisk could feel a blister forming.

The skeleton’s shoulders were hunched, his hands in his pockets as his boots scuffed the white stones. It was a distinctly un-noble posture, almost sullen. Was he really the lord of the castle? He wasn’t carrying himself with much confidence, and though she’d obviously irritated him, he hadn’t bothered to correct her. Maybe monsters were nicer than humans overall, no matter what the stories said; maybe, she thought as they exited the garden through a wicker gate and started across a courtyard, humans were entirely wrong about them. She might just be a—

“Dumbass!”

The skeleton stopped so fast that she nearly walked into him. A moment later, something flew across their path, followed closely by a small yellow body. “The ball’s a dumbass,” it said helpfully in passing, with the snide, high-pitched tone of a child almost breaking the rules.

Frisk’s escort made a low noise and suddenly whipped his hand up and around. She barely had time to process what was happening before the little monster was jerked into the air, flipping upside down and hanging in a scarlet cloud. “Ya think you’re smart?” the lord demanded, gesturing to silence the…child, she supposed. “Don’t answer that!”

The lizard-like monster didn’t have arms to gesture with, but kicked his feet and snapped his teeth more than expressively enough. “Knock it off,” the skeleton warned him.

The child obediently stopped kicking, and started mouthing obscenities instead. To Frisk’s dismay, the cloud of magic dropped him onto the ground head-first and, before he could recover, picked him back up; the lizard stuck his tongue out in defiance, at which the red cloud rose several feet higher before dropping him again. This time, when it picked him up—

“Stop it!” Frisk protested. They both glared at her, and she shook her head. “He’s just being a child! He’s not hurting anyone!”

The skeleton snorted. Frisk felt her face flushing again as the magic dropped the young monster once more; the child gave her one sneering glance before scuttling off. Then the lord turned to glare at Frisk, who was trembling with fear and rage. “I could say a lot of stuff right now, but you just got here,” he said with dangerous patience, “so I’m gonna cut you some slack.” He started walking again. “C’mon. Everyone should be in the Great Hall by now, ‘cept that little fucker, but that’s fine. He’ll hear it, too.”

Frisk wanted to ask what he meant, and object to his language, but she was tired, and cold, and sore, and hungry, and now keenly aware of what the monster could do to her if he chose. She followed him meekly across the courtyard and through several more winding paths, most too dimly lit to see more than the skeleton’s broad back; he wasn’t much taller than her, but he was powerfully built, even without his hellish magic. He didn’t look sullen anymore, just angry. Frisk wasn’t one for self-pity, but…what had she done to deserve this?

He eventually stopped in front of a door so small and unassuming that she went right in after him, blinking in the sudden light, expecting to see a kitchen or servants’ entrance; instead, when her vision cleared, it revealed a dazzling array of…red carpets, stairs, dozens of voices, thousands of candles—her senses were too overloaded to take it all in. This must be the Great Hall, she thought muzzily, barely aware that the skeleton had turned to watch her.

She did notice when he took her hand, fingers tightening as she reflexively pulled away. “This way,” he muttered.

Frisk couldn’t help scowling. For someone who had spent so much time and cruel effort getting her here, he didn’t seem at all happy to have her. At least his hand gave her something to focus on as he led her through the columns at the back of the room and into the center of the red carpet. As she’d thought when he touched her face in the garden – which she still resented – his bones were as warm as human fingers, with a strange consistency, smooth and slightly pliant. He was probably strong enough to crush her fingers like brittle leaves, but he held them just firmly enough that she couldn’t get away. How nice of him, she thought irritably.

Suddenly, the skeleton paused and turned to face the room. “Hey,” he said, almost conversationally. “Shut up.”

The human thought he was talking to her until the hall grew very quiet, making her ears itch. A tug on her hand turned her to face the same way he was, and her eyes widened.

The room was full of monsters—the ones she’d heard about as a child, and with whom she’d be living and working now. There were creatures made of ice, one built almost entirely out of razor-sharp teeth, several fire spirits, some with fur or scales, or both…there was another, much taller skeleton, and…

Hm. She was good at making quick estimates, and there were barely a hundred monsters in the hall. Surely this couldn’t be all of them?

“So,” said the lord. With his free hand, he dug beneath his shirt and pulled out a pendant shaped like a miniature skull, elongated like a deerhound and sporting far too many fangs for Frisk’s taste. The skeleton raised the pendant to eye level: in an instant, Frisk sensed a shift in the atmosphere from mild disdain to wary, almost fearful anticipation. “Here she is,” proclaimed the lord of the castle. “Meet…Frisk.”

No one reacted, except for a few scoffs and an extremely half-hearted “Hurrah” from the back of the hall, more insulting than no response at all. Frisk hoped she wasn’t expected to introduce herself, or say literally anything else.

Luckily, the skeleton was already speaking again. “So,” he intoned, and as one, the monsters flinched. “First off, no one’s allowed to hurt her—directly, indirectly, on purpose, sort of on purpose, tricking her into it, trickin’ someone else into it, I don’t fucking care. Humans are weaklings, remember? If any of you assholes so much as breathes on ‘er too hard, I’m gonna take you apart mote by mote and burn yer dust in front’a everyone.”

Judging by the monsters’ shocked faces and low murmurs, this was quite the threat. The skeleton lord’s hand was holding hers a little more tightly—was he shaking? At the front of the crowd, the other skeleton had uncrossed his arms and seemed ready to—

“Second!” Everyone twitched. “You do what she says, when she says, unless I tell you different.” He paused, as if weighing his options. “No lyin’ to her. If she wants ta know somethin’, you gotta give ‘er a good answer.”

More murmurs of surprise and resentment. Frisk could feel little pulses through her contact with the skeleton—his pendant was doing something magic-related as he spoke. With a start, she remembered her father’s description of the skull that bit him and inflicted the curse of obedience; this must be the same thing, in a way that let him use it on every monster at once.

Regardless of how he was doing it, Frisk wished she understood why. He clearly did want her here, but how terrible could things be for him to go to these lengths for her? The first tiny prickling of unease began skittering around the back of her mind. What had her father been trying to tell her? Something he’d been hiding that would have destroyed her reputation among her family and friends, with worse duties than arranging parties and checking whether the maids were stealing anything …and the monster being a skeleton was relevant. What could possibly—

Someone had asked a question. “No, not yet,” the skeleton said, to groans of disappointment. “Party’s tomorrow. We’ll hold off for tonight and let her get settled.”

A loud, rude snort made everyone turn to the back of the crowd. “Well, ain’t that sweet?” It was a tall, armor-clad figure holding a faintly glowing spear. The voice was female, but almost as rough as the skeleton’s. “I know if I was her, I’d want you to hold off for tonight!”

The monsters erupted into jeering laughter. Frisk’s face burned as the implication sank in, and she gave the skeleton a disbelieving glance as that sense of disquiet prodded her again. What kind of party was he talking about? Would he really go to this much trouble to procure a normal housekeeper, much less protect her like this and celebrate her coming?

To her bemusement, the skeleton seemed as embarrassed as she was, and several times angrier. “Fuck off, Undyne!” His magic pulsed again so strongly that Frisk’s palm tingled. The woman in armor made a faint sound and staggered back against the wall. “If you’ve got time to say stupid shit, maybe it’s time you—”

“That’s enough,” said someone above them.

Frisk felt the air in the room shift again; this time, it felt like a classroom where the teacher had walked in and just looked at everyone. Every monster in the Great Hall – even Undyne – sank to one knee; the skeleton’s hands dropped to his sides as Frisk turned to watch another monster descend the staircase. “Tori,” he mumbled.

The white-furred monster glared at him. She resembled a giant goat, but seemed far more predatory, perhaps because of her golden eyes; they reminded Frisk too much of her uncle’s captive hawks, which always looked ready to eat someone. “How strange,” the goat-woman murmured. “I could have sworn that we’ve met before and you know how to properly address me.” Like magic, she was now smiling brilliantly at Frisk. “Welcome to our humble abode, my dearest girl. May I be the first to congratulate you on your conquest of Sans’ affections?”

The human’s polite smile was fixed in place, the one she used at parties when trapped in conversation with people she wasn’t allowed to run away from. “You certainly may, Lady…?”

“Toriel, my child. I am the former Queen of this place, now a silly old lady enjoying my twilight years in retirement.” The goat monster inclined her head, and suddenly raised her voice. “Thank you all for coming. I believe dinner should be ready soon?”

That was the monsters’ cue to scatter, no compulsion necessary. “Well,” said Toriel as the room emptied. Her smile twisted in utter contempt. “You seem surprised, my dear. Was Sans incompetent enough to allow your father to lie about your purpose here?”

The skeleton – Sans – gritted his teeth. Frisk would’ve felt sorry for him if…no, wait, she wouldn’t, ever. “Well,” she said, echoing Toriel, “when my father told everyone at my uncle’s house what happened, he said the monsters wanted someone to ‘perform the functions of a housekeeper.’ He never came out and said I’d be marrying anyone.” Frisk gave Sans as poisonous a look as she could, and his sockets went blank. It was unnerving, but she was too angry to care. “On the way up here, he tried to talk more about it, but then he had to leave.”

Toriel cackled, raising the hairs on the back of Frisk’s neck. “Of course he didn’t tell the rest of your family you’d be sharing your bed with a skeleton! You’d be the laughingstock of the village—no, the whole country!”

“Tori,” muttered Sans. Somehow, his entire skull was turning a dull crimson; he’d shrunk in on himself, looking much smaller and curiously vulnerable. Good.

The goat monster must have agreed; she smirked, and fully turned her back on him. “I hope you can understand your father’s intentions, my dear child,” Toriel said. Frisk would have given anything to make her stop smiling. “Parents tell these little fibs every so often to protect their children’s feelings.” She patted Frisk’s shoulder with a soft, heavy white paw. “I’m sure you’ll understand once you start having them.”

Frisk’s skin crawled—whether it was Toriel’s touch or the thought of that with Sans, she couldn’t say. Probably both. “I wish he had given me some forewarning, Lady Toriel, but I understand his reasons. He was also very sick when he reached the village, and likely still is, so we didn’t have many chances to talk privately.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” Toriel murmured. “But it was to be expected after a night outside without food or drink, and then a walk down the mountain without provisions.”

“A what?” Frisk rounded on her would-be husband, who was sweating profusely. How the hell did—no, never mind. “You didn’t give him anything at all? And you made him sleep outside?” she demanded.

Sans’ eyes sparked red again. “He trespassed on my land and fucked up my garden! What was I s’posed ta do? Give ‘im a cookie and his own private room?”

“Anything but keep him outside like a dog!” Frisk was so angry that her eyes were filling with tears. She swiped them as discreetly as she could. “I am overtired, Lord Sans! May I be shown my room for the night? Or would you prefer I sleep in the garden?!”

“Fine!” he bellowed. For a horrible moment, Frisk thought he was really going to lock her outside—no, he was grabbing the pendant: “Panne! Lapis! Get your asses down here, now!”

“I’m afraid you have your work cut out for you, my child,” Toriel said kindly to Frisk, who was seething so hard that it took a moment to realize someone was speaking. “If you want any help, dear, you need only ask.”

“Thank you, Lady Toriel,” the human replied. “I’ve dealt with bullies before, but they usually don’t have magic on their side.”

Toriel cackled again as Sans’ eyes went blank. “Well said, my dearest Frisk! Very well said. Our lord is accustomed to getting what he wants, but a bit of reality may be what he needs.”

“Y’know what?” The skeleton’s voice was high and loud with indignation. “You’re right. Forget it. Fuckin’ forget about this whole thing! We’ll do the ceremony, make it so yer creepy-ass curse worked, an’ then she can go back to her dumbass family. How’s that sound?”

Frisk’s heart leapt…until Toriel gave a gentle sigh. “Yes, Lady Toriel?” the human asked warily.

“Yeah, what?” Sans snapped.

“Several things, children. For one, Sans, you already came crawling to me for help in getting Frisk’s father through the barrier—to be honest, I’m surprised we were able to do it at all. I absolutely do not have the resources left to move another human through the gates safely.”

Frisk could have cried, but as it turned out, that was the least of her problems: “And if you think you’ll be man and wife after a few words and a slice of cake, you’re sorely mistaken. A true marriage is built on time, trust, and communication.” Toriel nodded benignly. “And sex.”

“What?!” It came out in perfect tandem between the skeleton and human.

The goat monster didn’t bother to hide her glee. “I never said you’d find a wife in name only, you pathetic sack of bones! What are you thinking, trying to get rid of her? Why go to all the trouble of snaring such a lovely thing if you were just going to shoo her off? I’ve never seen you so excited, having your room prepared and planning what to eat for—”

“There they are,” Sans said sharply, looking and sounding ready for death as two rabbit monsters approached. “You! Get her fed, bath, sleep, whatever! I’m goin’ to bed, good night!”

Toriel’s grin was the most evil thing Frisk had ever seen. “Good night, my lord? It’s only—oh, dear. There he goes.” She examined the tips of her claws, and gave Frisk a look that made the human shudder. “Was it something I said?”

 ~

             “REALLY, BROTHER, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU EXPECTED.”

           Sans tried to think of something witty, but it was easier to bash his head against the wall some more. So—

           “WILL YOU KINDLY STOP THAT FOOLISH NOISE! IF IDIOCY COULD BE REMOVED THAT WAY, I WOULD GLADLY CRACK YOUR EXALTED SKULL OPEN. BUT NO, YOUR LORDSHIP’S STUPIDITY WOULD REMAIN INTACT NO MATTER WHAT MEASURES WERE TAKEN.”

           For the millionth time, Sans found himself reaching for his pendant, the key to the spell encompassing the castle and its grounds. All he had to do was concentrate on Papyrus and command him to shut up for ten goddamn minutes. His life would be easier, and quieter—

           —and complete shit, because Pap wouldn’t be his brother anymore. Sans rolled his skull sideways along his bedroom wall, glaring at the taller skeleton. “Get yer ass off my bed.”

           Papyrus snorted. “WHY? IT IS APPARENT THAT YOU WILL BE THE ONLY ONE USING IT FOR THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE.”

           “Oh, not you, too!” Sans grabbed a book at random from the shelf and chunked it at his brother, who easily caught it and tossed it to the floor. “What, you wanna be more like Undyne?”

           “PATHETIC AS SHE IS, IT WOULD STILL BE PREFERABLE TO OTHER PERSONS OF MY ACQUAINTANCE, BY WHICH I OF COURSE MEAN YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE TERRIBLE.” Papyrus did get up, though, and Sans tensed as his brother approached the mirror. “WHY DO YOU STILL KEEP THIS?” To Sans’ indignation, Pap took the ink drawing from where Sans had stuck it in the mirror’s frame, holding it up for a closer inspection. “SURELY, NOW THAT YOU HAVE CAPTURED THE HUMAN IT DEPICTS—”

           “Put it back,” Sans snapped.

           Papyrus tutted under his breath. “AS MY IDIOTIC LORD WISHES.” Unwilling to make a mess of any kind, the younger skeleton tucked the picture very gently back into the frame, smoothing down the creased edges. “IT WILL BE RUINED IF YOU DON’T STOP CARRYING IT EVERYWHERE.”

           “Yeah, I know,” the elder skeleton grumbled. He let the back of his skull thump into the wall again, earning another sharp look. “You can leave now.”

           Pap’s boots tapped impatiently on the stone floor. Several rolled-up rugs were stacked at the other end of the room, but Sans had made several excuses to leave them there, unable to admit his fear of picking something she didn’t like. Of course, now he would kill for that to be his biggest problem. “WILL YOU BE ALL RIGHT, BROTHER? SHALL I BRING THE MANUAL? THE SECTION ON WOOING A KIDNAPPED BRIDE IS PITIFULLY SHORT, BUT—”

           “I’m good, bro,” lied Sans. “Go to bed.”

           It wasn’t a command, and they both knew it. “I DIDN’T GET A CLOSE LOOK AT MY NEW SISTER,” Papyrus remarked. His gloved finger tapped the edge of the portrait. “IS THIS ACCURATE?”

           “No,” Sans said sharply. “Don’t touch it.”

           “HMPH!” Only Pap could make that a complete sentence. “I SEE. THE ARTIST SEEMS SKILLED ENOUGH, BUT IT MUST BE ANOTHER HUMAN LIE. IT IS A SHAME, BECAUSE THE FEMALE IN THIS PICTURE IS NOT NEARLY AS HIDEOUS AS MOST OF HER—”

           “Get the fuck outta my room!”

           Eventually, Papyrus complied, leaving Sans with only his stupid, stupid thoughts for company. There weren’t enough permutations of “fuuuuck” to express what he was feeling, so he settled on staring at the windows and letting his head hit the wall some more.

           He hadn’t lied to Papyrus. The picture wasn’t accurate: it didn’t show that her eyes were gray, or the way her nose scrunched when she was mad, or how her cheeks turned pink when he touched them. Looking at it always made him want to hold her, but it didn’t have her light, sweet scent or feel so damn soft that he forgot he wasn’t supposed to touch—

           Fuuuuuck. She was here, but this was still bullshit! He’d felt a twinge in the spell framework and realized that someone was trying to get around one of his orders – probably by a lie through omission – but how was he supposed to know it was Proust? He never expected that whinging, craven little shit would avoid telling Frisk she was going to be married. She hadn’t had time to get used to the idea, weigh the pros and cons, maybe move past him threatening to kill her daddy as leverage…

           Oh, who the hell was he kidding? Even if Sans had gone about this as honorably as he could, and even if she’d had a year to think it over, she never would have accepted him on her own. No matter what anyone said, he was still a monster, and she was still…

           His mind veered off yet again to when he’d followed her through the garden. He’d been so thrilled that she was really here, but so terrified that the ideal he’d built up from one picture would fall short of reality; maybe he’d made an ass of himself, getting everyone to clean stuff up and get things out and plan it all down to the second for someone who’d drawn herself to look better than she really was. Maybe her dad was just being a dad and he’d actually spoiled her rotten, letting her take the credit for some actual housekeeper’s work. Maybe she wasn’t really that nice. Maybe this was a mistake.

           So, faced with possible perfection, what did he do? He snuck up close enough to smell her, weirded her out, and then tried to play it off as a joke, which scared her even worse. And…

           No, the picture wasn’t accurate. He’d been so stunned that he just stood there like a complete moron, not apologizing or helping her up or introducing himself, because she was so beautiful that he forgot to breathe. Of course she got scared and mad at him, and he didn’t know how to handle it because he didn’t know how to handle anything, so he just acted like himself, and—

           He was going to kill Toriel if it was the last goddamn thing he did!

           The wind was howling again. Sans wondered if it was keeping Frisk awake, assuming she could sleep at all after discovering she was going to marry him.

He looked at his bed, which had never had anyone but him in it, thank you, Papyrus—he’d enjoyed modest success in his sex life before that stupid fucking day with Asgore, but ever since, he found that being able to make people do anything he wanted was a massive turnoff. It felt creepy and pathetic and, well, wrong, even if he didn’t actually order anyone into the sack, or to do anything in it.

           Now that he was going to have an actual wife – who thought he was a bully, hated and feared him – would that be any better? Maybe if he courted her well enough, let her see that he’d loved her before they ever even met, refrained from using magic to change her mind…

           If that was the best he could do, then no, it wouldn’t be any better. Sans gave himself one last bang on the wall, kicked his boots off, and climbed onto the bed. “G’night,” he said out loud, and closed his sockets to wait for morning.

[the-river-person]

Miscalculation: Quality of Time

“Among other things, I miscalculated.” Asgore, Sans, Toriel, Papyrus, Flowey, Alphys, DT, Monster Kid  and even Doctor Whimsol were all gathered in Gaster’s lab, which was somehow even bigger than it was before, possibly due to the machine that seemed to be slowly digging out sections of the wall and storing the material in the very back of the cave. Gaster himself was looking disgruntled. “For some time now I have been attempting to calculate how long I have been trapped here after my... accident. I have a device that has accurately gauged the length of time that has passed both within the barrier and without, and it records time without regard to resetting as its mechanism is powered with small amounts of Determination. This device is and has been accurate in its readings, however it was I who made a mistake in the process of interpreting the data.“ He paused to adjust his sleeves, and his expression was sour, like he couldn’t stand the idea that he’d made a mistake. “You see, I had been under the impression that at least a hundred years had passed from the perception of Monsters from when my accident occurred and the fall of the final human into the Underground. I was correct, of course. There was another who held control of the power to Reset before the Human came, Flowey.” The flower in question gulped and shrank a little bit as everyone’s eyes flicked to him and then back to Gaster. “While Flowey did indeed Reset a large number of times, my mistake was not realizing how much time was actually involved in those Resets. Perhaps I can be forgiven for this, as my condition had me sleeping for long periods with brief wakings in between. But it seems that more of that time involved repetitions of segments of time than it involved moving forward at a normal pace. Instead of at least a hundred years of ordinary time going by and hundreds of years worth of repeating the same weeks, only a few years went by for the rest of you. I ought to have realized this when Asgore apologized for having forgotten to come check on me due to everything happening so suddenly. But I was arrogant enough to believe that I knew better and had the correct answer.” It took a moment for everyone to digest this. Alphys was scribbling some notes about the device Gaster had mentioned and the possibility of Determination as an alternate power source. Sans was reading the notes over her shoulder. But it was Papyrus who finally spoke up. “THAT’S VERY INTERESTING, UNCLE. BUT WHAT DOES IT HAVE TO DO WITH HOW PEOPLE ARE STARTING TO FORGET SANS IF THEY AREN’T LOOKING AT HIM?” The scientist smiled at Papyrus, pleased that he’d jumped straight to the point. “I was trying to understand what was happening to your brother, and where it had begun. Already, based on his symptoms alone, I had begun to theorize what might be afflicting him. But certain things didn’t make sense, the timing didn’t line up. You see, I know of another instance where such a thing has happened to Monsters before. I believe you’ve met my assistants?” He turned and gestured at a group of people who were watching them. Sans didn’t seem surprised at all, but waved at them, while everyone else began wondering when these people had actually come into the room. None of them could remember seeing them before Gaster pointed them out. There were four of them, one a cat-like Monster, another small with wide eyes and a round head, another more like a strange bird with its head hanging down, and the last was one both Papyrus and Sans had met before, the little monster in a striped shirt who bore a distant resemblance to MK. All of them were grey and colorless, staring out at everyone with blank white eyes. “These were some of my assistants at the Labs before my accidents. Of course both Alphys and Sans worked with me as well. But for a long time I had assumed that neither of them had been present the day my experiments went wrong. When I managed to open a fissure into the Void both I and my assistants were exposed to the radiation from it. However the explosion that resulted from its abrupt close threw me into the vats of Determination heated to a plasma state that were there for my experiment instead of inside the Core where they belonged. Though i was shattered across time and space, it seems that the fading memory of me is related to more of the radiation from the Void, because my assistants were affected and forgotten as you see here, faded to this grey state where they are overlooked and easy to forget once you look away. The Determination is what kept me alive, and able to send my assistants out to collect pieces of me, for which I am grateful.” Noticing the look that some of his listeners were beginning to take on, Monster Kid and DT were starting to look bored, Gaster hurriedly moved on with his explanation. “None of this explained why Sans was displaying such symptoms. As he hadn’t been there that day. But I had forgotten his teleportation abilities. Upon hearing the explosion, which rocked the whole Underground, he teleported to the lab, unknowingly exposing himself to the radiation.” Asgore raised his hand nervously, looking for a moment as if he were a schoolboy asking a question about the homework rather than the King of Monsters. “Erm, I don’t quite think I understand but... If the radiation is what made your assistants like this, and he was exposed at the same time, how come he didn’t start to react till now?” Gaster nodded. “An excellent question, Your Majesty. I believe the answer lies in his Determination. I contacted Doctor Whimsol, who has been attempting for weeks to alert someone to San’s condition only to be thwarted by forgetting him entirely the moment he leaves her office, and gained access to his files. Sans has felt an abnormally high amount of Determination for some time. First to keep his brother safe and well after what occurred with their parents, then to make ends meet in their new home of Snowdin Town, to act according to tradition and moral standards as the Judge, and finally to keep the human from totally destroying everything and leaving everyone dead without a hope of a Reset. This Determination has kept the symptoms at bay for a very long time. But now, in this new life we’re all building, what is there to be determined about? Determination is only for great challenges and troubling times, for most this is neither. And his Determination has been decreasing as he no longer needed it, which allowed the symptoms to begin manifesting.” Even Sans looked considerably startled at this information. “DOES THAT MEAN THERE IS NO CURE?” asked Papyrus, a worried edge creeping into his tone. “THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING WE CAN DO.” “There is, no need to worry.” Gaster assured him calmly. “I have been working for some time to cure both my assistants and the Amalgamates of the lower labs. Both are connected in that their state has been brought about by Determination. With the new information I’ve gained by looking at Sans’ condition, I believe I may be able to help all three. But the means for each will be somewhat different, and there is a certain degree of risk involved.” Toriel opened her mouth, presumably to ask exactly what kind of risk Gaster was referring to, but Sans spoke first. “I’ll do it.” Everyone just looked at him, Gaster in soft amusement, DT in exasperation, and everyone else in shock. “What?” he said shrugging. “I’m finally starting to enjoy things and relax. I don’t want to give that up and get forgotten by everyone. I trust the doc. I’ll take the risks, ‘specially if it means I can have this nice thing we’ve all got going a bit longer.” “IF YOU’RE SURE BROTHER, THEN I WILL SUPPORT YOUR DECISION.” Papyrus’ tone was steady, but his sidelong glance at Sans betrayed his worry. Looking like Gyftmas had somehow come early, Gaster turned to his assistants and began directing them and giving instructions, already beginning on his plan now that he had consent from the patient. Asgore, Toriel looked uncomfortable, as if they’d really like to stop him but didn’t know if they could or should. Flowey on the other hand was deep in thought.

[undertale-in-writing]

Undertale In Writing: Page 2

You feel as though years have passed while you stood there, staring at the flowers. Though it's only been one heavy moment.

You take a deep breath and kneel down to pluck a flower from the ground. You tuck it behind your ear. You stand and turn to gaze into the darkness. Something warm fills your chest, not entirely unlike when Flowey revealed your SOUL. Just to be sure, you look down. There's no glowing, only calm... fullness. Stubbornness. DETERMINATION.

You felt something like this when you woke up before, but it was uncertain, confused. Now, it's fully taken root. You turn and begin to follow the path you took previously. Not like there was any other path.

Flowey appears again in a blink of light. You take note this time. He seems to be glowing. It's magic. All magic has a slight glow, and all monsters have magic. I can't think of any flowers down here that glow like a monster, though; echo flowers glow, but those are bioluminescent. And he doesn't smell like a normal flower.

The familiar face is still for a moment, then he breaks into a grin. “Howdy! I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower! Hee hee hee...” He tilts his head slightly, humor in his voice now. “Why'd you make me introduce myself? It's rude to act like you don't know who I am. Someone ought to teach you proper manners.”

You frown, because you're still not sure what happened. He killed you, didn't he? Was he the reason you were placed back at the start? I feel like it's more than that, but how come he remembers you?

No time to dwell on it. The golden flower begins following the same script as before. He opens the battle stage, refers to your heart. “That's your SOUL,” he says, as if you hadn't heard this before. He introduces LOVE, and he pulls out his bullets. “Down here, LOVE is shared through... little white... 'friendliness pellets.'”

You frown. Why is he telling you all this again? You know it, and he knows that you know it, and he should see from your expression that you know he knows you know it. Your lips purse. You want to say something, but you can't bring yourself to speak in this moment. The energy required is currently being used to prepare for what comes next.

“Catch as many as you can!”

You jump the side. The bullets dart by you and dissipate in the air a few feet back.

Flowey's expression changes. He holds onto the smile, but now it's challenging. Almost taunting. “Hey, buddy, you missed them. Let's try again, okay?”

You ready yourself, mind racing over how you might get out of this. Maybe you can outlast him?

The bullets shoot into you, and this time you can hardly react. They make contact. Your heart pulses, your feet slide back an inch, there are holes in your sweater and blood and bruises and it hurts.

But you're not in pieces. The wounds are shallow. You try to stand tall in defiance, but there's a pain in your shoulder that makes you wince, and you realize that you're very weak.

Flowey laughs. His face contorts into an evil smile that frankly does not belong in 3D space. “You idiot,” he cackles.

Your mouth opens in protest; a sound comes out—a soft, “I'm not—!” but you have to clamp it shut. Your face reddens.

Flowey continues. His voice is different. Somehow, he's made it sound like he's speaking through a crackly intercom. He says, “In this world, it's kill or BE killed. Why would ANYONE pass up an opportunity like this?”

A chill runs down your spine. This flower... isn't a monster. Monsters aren't like this. Monsters aren't evil.

“DIE!”

A ring of bullets form around you and come flying at your tiny torso. All you can do is yelp and curl into yourself. You're going to die again. You're going to hurt again. He's going to tear you apart.

There's a crackling sound, and a fwoosh. You glance up. A ball of white-hot fire hits the flower in the back of the head, and his roots are torn from the ground as he flies off into the darkness with a small “eep.”

Suddenly, you're alone. It's dark. You're confused. Disoriented.

Annoyance floods your brain. You'll probably be nonverbal all day now.

You push yourself to your feet, flinching when a shallow cut on your stomach pulls sideways. The battle stage is still there, but you can't feel Flowey's presence anymore. Something else looms from where the flame originated. Fiery red eyes bore into you from the darkness. A shape emerges, tall and fuzzy. A pair of small, sharp horns curl up from the top of a long-eared head. A snout exhales with annoyance.

You see the monster's dull claws at eye-height. The sleeves of a strangely familiar robe fall over one paw as it's drawn to the monster's hip.

“What a terrible creature,” she scolds, “torturing such a poor, innocent youth.”

Her voice is gentle. Familiar. Comforting. Motherly. You tilt your head again to look into her eyes, and she bends down to bring herself on your level. Now that you see her face head on, she doesn't look scary anymore. Her ears are soft and floppy, her horns small, her smile friendly, her eyes kind. She looks like a concerned goat mom, if goats were... What's the word..? Anthromorphic?

“Do not be afraid, my child,” she says softly. “I am Toriel, caretaker of The Ruins. I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down.” She pauses, and you realize that the battle stage is gone. There's color in the world again, and your heart is in your chest where it belongs.

Toriel smiles and stands suddenly. “You are the first human to come here in a long time.” Her robe flows loosely as she reaches down with one paw. “Come! I will guide you through the catacombs.”

You don't take her paw. Toriel isn't fazed by this. She turns ninety degrees and gestures into the darkness. “This way.”

Page 1 — Page 3

 [End page]

We made this blog almost two years ago and never followed up, so here’s page 2. We’ll try to continue it indefinitely, even if it takes a while. It’s still very much something we’re interested in.

Rules:

This is an interactive Undertale adaptation, not an AU. All actions taken must fit into the game. Obviously I’m taking little liberties with the reset system, but nothing is changing. If you want your response to be included, it shouldn’t change the plot. It’s about informing a player character’s decisions and, to an extent, Frisk’s personality.

You don’t need to follow some kind of format or command system. Your response can be in a comment, a reblog, a reblog of another’s reblog, a comment continuing another’s comment… It can short or long. It can be a suggestion or a narration.

The readers, together, are the player character.

Some time will pass, and we will take all responses as a vote. Common actions will become “canon,” and the story will continue. Influential commenters will be tagged, and anything we directly quote will have credit immediately after the section.

Commenters last round: @thesuperduckling24​, @finallycrawledoutfromundermyrock​, @thepotatoreader, and @arireblogthat​

If threads form of various players writing out their own alternate timeline, that’s fine too! There are no restrictions in how you respond. No need to limit yourself to what you think I’ll write down.

Headcanons that we’re using to include as much flavor from the game as possible:

We’re running with the Chara as narrator interpretation, because the tone of the narration is a major part of the experience. It may come out more in the future, but we’ll never name them. We will also adhere to the canon that their personality going forward is influenced by the player character’s decisions.

The one thing we’ve decided about Frisk up front is that they are semi-verbal autistic. Nothing extra will be inserted; it’s just a framework we’re using because it’s a consistent guide to explain some very video-gamey behavior -- like the sparse implied dialogue, the fixation on smells, and apparent disregard for low HP. (We’re autistic ourselves and will be pulling from our experiences.)

I’m adding these under each page so that you can use these narrative frames if you want. Happy writing.

[clusterfullofblueberries]

come on! scream into the void and talk about your AUs! the void might talk back

I don’t think it will… but do I have a choice now that I’m stuck here?

*deep inhale*

Okay, so, I already wrote the two AUs down on my notes.

I’ve introduced the Newfound Family AU, but will repeat it once more here. Before I do, let me present the other AU

.See No Evil.

The main story is overall the same, with Frisk venturing into the underground to find their way back home. Along with making the choice to help monsters. But after they leave the Ruins, something follows them and intends on feasting on their human flesh (and soul ofc). Sadly for Frisk, they have no time to react and get attacked by this strange ink-like creature. (I just call them ink beasts going forward since there’s more than one here)

Something that Sans made a promise to the woman beyond the wall he's already failed miserably in. Which was to protect the human child. He does blame himself for it as what harmed them was beyond his magic control. He wasn't quick enough to stop the ink beast from taking the human's sight. But he did save the human from further danger by killing it. And going forward has taken good care of Frisk. Along with his brother Papyrus, who protects the little human child with his life.

Seems like they're not the only ones doing so as a strange, but comforting spirit by the name of "Chara" follows Frisk around. Acting as their eyes and speaking with Frisk often. It's kind of like having a true friend around. One that really cares about them genuinely and refuses to leave them alone. (Note: Chara is NOT evil. Never has and never will be. They are just a child like Frisk. Spirit child now, but you get the concept)

This is the story so far. Considering that it's a slow pace, but the whole deal about this AU is that some characters appear too early like Undyne going to Snowdin to check on the people once her and Papyrus saw an ink beast in the Waterfalls that nearly killed them both. Taking notice that similar creatures are starting to appear at random in the underground everyone has to be on the lookout.

Additional info on SeeNoEvil:

Sans and Papyrus eyes have been glowing long before the human came out of the Ruins. It's something that even they don't understand nor have the ability to control. This is often why you'll see them with an eye patch in public. They can see fine, yet they have their reasons for covering them up such as their eyes being sensitive and feeling overall embarrassed. Though that last part only applies for Papyrus. On the plus side, Undyne has told him that they both do look cool with glowing eyes. Which does lift their spirits up a bit. Still they both have them on. Especially Sans who has his on 90% of the time.

Beyond this point of the AU, Frisk is blind. If they were to open up their eyes it would hurt so much that they have to cover their eyes with a band. But to the surprise of them, when Chara asks for permission to use their eyes one day, the spirit gives Frisk the ability to see once again. It's only temporary, but they do make good use of their time and mentally record what they see. Even when they lose their sight, the human has good hearing to aid them. It's an improved skill that they have on their belt and is very much grateful for the sharp hearing.

Frisk doesn't fight monsters, but they do have to stay on guard with those ink beasts slithering around. If they're coming after them, they have to figure out a way to get as far away from these creatures. Killing them is genuinely a thing Frisk/Chara should do, but refuse to go near them in fear that they might eat their body and soul.

These ink beasts are NOT from this world. Where they came from is unknown to everyone. But it would be best for monsters to kill them as quickly as possible. Fire magic would be preferable, but at a safe distance so to not get your soul taken away. There are likely more methods, however this is by far the most affective one as demonstrated by a fire monster in Snowdin.

With that now set up, let me repeat what was about the first AU I had.

.Newfound Family.

This is an Alternate universe where Frisk has both Papyrus and Sans as their big brothers. Although the two brothers were once considered beloved friends to Frisk. After being on the surface with them for some time, Frisk began to see the skeleton brothers as their own siblings. They weren’t exactly sure if they saw Frisk that way, yet to the human’s surprise they were very much thrilled about being the big brothers to Frisk once they mentioned about being a family. Especially Papyrus.

Life going forward for the three was peaceful. And despite it being painful to see their little human sibling growing up so fast, it was nice at the same time. Their heart was set in the right place and only seemed to be getting stronger with time.

Additionally, they do have Toriel around to keep Frisk company when they’re out and everything in this life is looking bright.

There is one thing wrong however. Among the three siblings, both Sans and Papyrus have been hearing strange voices in their dreams. The voice is in some kind of language they aren’t aware of, but somehow with each dream repeating themselves they’re starting to translate. How? Neither have the slightest idea. Well, maybe they did know all along and only recently had the realization. On one particular occasion Papyrus has tried to speak out to the voice but when they did everything fell silent. Dead silent. Not easing the skeleton’s already rattled soul.

On the opposite end, Sans has been seeing this odd face. They don’t know it exactly, but it does feel familiar. Almost as if they’re someone they once knew but somehow forgot. As the two skeletons have this going on much of it is the same for Frisk with the exclusion of translating. What they do have is the full picture. They see the expression of what seems like another skeleton. A very tall one that almost looks like they even tower Papyrus. Scary as it was in the beginning, as their body seemed to melt, Frisk began to take notice that the skeleton kept appearing with the look of distress on them. Mouthing the word help as they held onto themselves.

The bizarre factor that I failed to mention before is that this skeleton changes shape too frequently. In one instance for Frisk, they’ll look like Papyrus with the exception of their grin resembling Sans, but other times they’ll become this morphed version of a skeleton that can’t stop melting away. It’s disturbing and it gets too much for all three to handle that they have to have friends come over and check on them. Toriel being the main one staying at their home. Bless her heart because she’s the mother they need.

I want to explain more, but my brain is going all over the place!! 😳 I just really like these two concepts I’ve made. I haven’t drawn or talked about Undertale since I was 15. I’m 20 now and am very much invested in rambling on about any of these AUs.

[butnobodycame627]

Flowering

Prologue: A Call For Help

I've been kind of worried about posting this for a while now, but it's Undertale's anniversary, so I decided I'd just go for it. I haven't worked on this story in a long time, actually, this is not recent. But if people like it, I might keep working on it. I have the first chapter done, but I'll probably check for mistakes before I post that. But uh... yeah, I hope this isn't too bad? I know I'm not the best writer, but I had been planning this story for a long time and I really want to finally post something about it. So... here is that. It's not too long, just a prologue. I'm not sure how long the chapters will be, I have difficulty knowing when to end chapters and they often end up being too short. I guess we'll just see when I post them.

Fresh air, a gentle breeze, fully bloomed flowers... This was an incredible day. Beautiful. The kind of day anyone would take to relax and unwind. The kind of day to go for a walk outside.

And for a normal day in a normal town, you would think just about everyone would be calm and collected, taking a break.

This is why the people all around town were shocked when they saw a mysterious figure run by. He was running so quickly that no one could really tell who he was or what he was doing. He was wearing a black cloak, which was not a very common thing for people to wear around town, especially not on a summer day where black would only make you more warm.

He seemed to be holding his hood down, as if it were important to hide his facial features with the shadow it cast.

He also stumbled every now and then, implying that he was injured or had trouble walking.

He was looking at every building, as if unsure where his destination was located, but yet it seemed that he had a place in mind somehow. Something he was looking for that he just could not find.

He had finally found it. The laboratory. No one knew why he wanted to go there or who he was. He knocked on the door three times.

The door opened, and as soon as it did, he rushed inside. As he closed the door behind him, he immediately blurted out "Dr Alphys, I seriously need your help, I don't know how to explain, but-".

"Woah, woah, woah! Wh-who are you? What's g-g-going on?" Alphys asked, startled. She, just like everybody else, did not know who this was. The only person she knew of that wore a cloak like this was the River Person. But the River Person never left their boat and had not moved to the surface yet. This was someone else. She did not know who. She did not know why he had come here. She was visibly alarmed.

He took a deep breath, then seemed to think about the best way to put his thoughts into words. "You.... you remember Flowey?"

"Hard to forget. Is he causing t-trouble or s-s-something?" She tilted her head, trying to figure out what this person was getting at. "I don't know what you've h-heard, b-b-b-but I'm not the best person to help with that."

"No, I..." He shook his head. Then, with eyes closed as if acknowledging how silly it sounded, said "I am Flowey".

It was obviously difficult to believe. This figure differed in size and shape compared to a flower and had a different voice than Flowey had. Alphys could easily assume this was some sort of joke.

"If you're here to make fun of me j-j-just because you th-think I'm some loser scientist that doesn't know what I'm d-doing, you know where the exit is!" Alphys was trying to sound like Undyne, it seemed.

"I'm not here for any reason like that. I just want your help. You're the only person that I think can help."

Alphys was stuck on that last sentence. When was the last time someone had told her that?

.... The Amalgamates. When they were dying. Their families had said the same thing.

"I can't help you. Please j-just leave..."

"Dr Alphys, seriously." He took off his hood to reveal the face of a Boss Monster. His eyes were black and he had horns, shorter than Asgore's, but longer than Toriel's. Another Boss Monster. Alphys did not know that there were any others. "I don't want to be like this anymore."

She was unsure how to react. All that she managed to say was "Who are you?"

The Boss Monster rolled his eyes in response. He had already given this information. "Flowey. I'm Flowey." Noticing Alphys' dissatisfaction, he decided a full explanation would be a good place to start.

"When a monster dies, they turn to dust. At funerals, their dust is spread on their favourite object so that their essence lives on in it."

"Where are you g-going with this?" Alphys asked, although seemingly less annoyed and more curious. That gave Flowey a good boost of confidence.

"You've heard the story of Asriel, right?" He shifted uncomfortably where he stood, looking disgusted, as if there were a strand of hair in his mouth. He clearly did not like thinking of that story. "From what I can tell, just about everyone has. He was the prince. He died. Turned to dust. And that was where the flowers grew."

Alphys froze. She understood now.

"You h-have Asriel's essence, then. B-B-But... that still d-doesn't explain this!" Alphys said, gesturing to him. "You were soulless. Asriel was not. There is no way you could have suddenly changed into him unless you absorbed seven human souls!"

"That's why I need help. I want to go back to being a flower."

Alphys could not understand why. It seemed Flowey had no intention to tell her.

Flowey knew that he was not telling the full story, but she did not need to know that he absorbed seven human souls. They were gone now, that was not the issue.

So what was the issue?

[undertalethingies]

Confessions

It was a normal conversation. They’d been talking about politics or sports or some book they’d read, and before they’d known it the topic had slid to their time in the Underground. Undyne was talking about their “fight” and how annoyed she’d been, when all they’d done was run away. She didn’t seem to notice how they’d gone quiet, which they supposed made sense, since they were always quiet.

“Hey punk, speaking of fights, who was hardest? Was it Asgore?” She asked it like she already knew the answer, and no one looked at Sans. Why would they? Frisk felt like laughing, but it wasn’t funny.

“OOOH, DARLING, WAS IT ME?” Mettaton proposed, posing dramatically as always. Again, no one looked at Sans. For a moment, they considered lying, giving some easy answer that wouldn’t raise questions, but the words just wouldn’t come.

“you ok there, kiddo? you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable,” Said Sans. Hearing the genuine compassion in his voice, they broke. Frisk began to giggle, then to laugh, tears running down their face.

“uh, i know i’m a pretty funny guy, but-” “It was you” Frisk said, their hysterics replaced with a burning desire to just end this damn charade already. They heard the other monsters in the room reacting with confusion, but their voices blended together until they all just sounded like the Amalgamates. Frisk was entirely focused on Sans. For a moment he just looked befuddled, like he didn’t know what they meant, before they saw the comprehension dawn across his face.

“oh jeez, kid. did i…?” Frisk looked at the floor. Clearly, he hadn’t put it together completely yet. They weren’t sure what he was thinking, but it was probably related to what he’d said in the restaurant. They needed to make him understand. Make him stop thinking they were as good and kind as their LV 1 would imply.

“It was in the Hall,” they said haltingly (hall-tingly, perhaps? They thought briefly that Chara might have appreciated that pun, before jerking abruptly back to reality).  Looking around a bit, everyone but Sans seemed utterly baffled by the odd turn the talk had taken. It seemed prudent to explain.

“Toriel, do you remember how you knew I liked butterscotch, even before I told you? And Papyrus, do you remember how you thought we’d met before?” They saw the mentioned parties opening their mouths to answer, but they found themselves afraid that, if they stopped, they’d lose their nerve. Instead, they barreled forward with their explanation.

“Sans could probably explain the science of it better than me, but it was like… every time I felt “determined” I could create this… “SAVE point”, like in a video game” They paused, and took a breath, before continuing. “And when I died, I could go back. I didn’t use it for good,” they looked at their hands and didn’t need to wonder what they’d feel like covered in dust. “I- I didn’t mean to, the first time,”

“the first time?” asked Sans. Frisk didn’t look at him. They didn’t need to. Easy enough to tell what he was thinking about. They supposed that this was their last chance to back out. Their last chance to deflect or lie, preserve the illusion that they deserved any of this. They couldn’t RESET anymore, not without- The others deserved to know. 

“The first time I- I killed someone, I mean. The first time was an accident. The rest... weren’t,” Frisk picked at their hands, a nervous habit Toriel was always admonishing them for. She didn’t say anything about it, this time. No one said anything. The whole room was waiting on their next words, waiting for them to justify what they’d done somehow, give some logical reason for their cruelty. At that thought, Frisk laughed. They laughed for a solid 30 seconds, holding their arms tight to their sides. As they calmed, still grinning, they said;

 “I enjoyed it, you know. I was having the time of my life! How sick is that?” They giggled a bit more, “Toriel, I can’t believe you forgot it! I was so nice to you, through the whole battle, and then at the last second, right as you were about to spare me, that’s when I-!” Their grin is hurting their cheeks, but they just can’t stop! It’s just so funny! They tried to finish the sentence, but they couldn’t get it past their wide smile. It was okay, though. They could see, somewhere in her horrified face, that some part of her remembered what they’d done. They turned their gaze to Papyrus. “You tried to spare me, did you know that? You didn’t even want to fight! I just walked right up and slapped your head off! And then-” they gestured the movements violently, arms jabbing to and fro. At least one person flinched away. Good. “Then you said you still believed in me! That you thought I could do better! Like I was some sort of good person! Like I was redeemable, can you believe?” Their breath hitched, and they couldn’t figure out why. Wasn’t this right? Wasn’t this true? Wasn’t it all just so funny it made them want to choke? They didn’t get it! 

“Haha… And Undyne, right? You remember that kid who kept following me?” They knew she did. They knew she was probably thinking of all of the terrible things they could have done to the kid, but have no fear, for Frisk was here! Here to finally expose what a shit person they were, once and for all. “Yeah, so that confrontation on the bridge went a little bit differently. Instead of them running away and almost falling off of a cliff, they tried to emulate what you would do!” They would grin, but they were already grinning. Pity. “So this idiot kid decides they’re going to try- get this, they decide they’re going to try to stop me!” Frisk stopped for a moment. Their smile dropped. They… weren’t proud, of what they’d done next. “...Bet you can guess how well I responded to that,” they said quietly.

“But Undyne you- you just had to play the hero, huh? You, uh. You didn’t let me hit them, but you didn’t stop me from delivering a hit in general, either,” How do you tell someone you’ve watched them turn to dust and die? Not like this, they were pretty sure. Oh well, too late now. “You took the hit yourself, instead. You should have died, kind of, immediately?” Neither Undyne nor Alphys looked very happy with that pronouncement. Undyne, though, appeared to have noticed something in what they’d said.

“...Should have? The hell does that mean?” Frisk took a deep breath, before looking up and allowing their own confusion to show on their face.

“It was super freaking weird!” They yelled, throwing their hands up in the air. “I have no idea what happened! You started, like, shivering? Like you were about to dust except anime happened instead???” Undyne was starting to look excited.

“Anime happened?” She prompted.

“Yeah! Some fucking- ‘this isn’t even my final form’ level anime bs happened! You had 5 digit health, your eye was shooting spears, it was crazy!” Frisk was getting into the heat of the explanation, now. Which was presumably why Undyne picked that moment to interrupt them.

“Wait. You said your hardest fight was with Sans. How the actual FUCK did he upstage that?!” Frisk smiled ruefully.

“Don’t fuck with Sans,” They said feelingly. “Anyway, after a long, grueling battle with you that ate up most of my healing items,” Papyrus screeched “I was victorious. It was extremely unsatisfying. I mean, all of that, and you just kind of… melted and turned to dust. I- I was almost happy, all the times you killed me, y’know?” Frisk laughed a little, “The killing stopped feeling good after Papyrus, but it started feeling bad after you,” They took a long breath in, and let it out as a sigh. “I mean, I’m a genocidal maniac, not a sadist,” Frisk pointed at Sans. “He might be, though! Not that I can really blame him!

“He was waiting for me in the Hall. He told me that if I took another step forward, I wasn’t going to like the- the consequences. Honestly, at that point, that was kind of a motivator,” Frisk could feel the silence. The way the whole room was hanging on their next words. It was less oppressive than it felt like it should have been.

“He asked me if I wanted to have a bad time. I did. He gave me one,” They said. “Sans is… really strong. I died in the first attack,” They look at their hands, and remember dust.

“When I came back, he said “that’s the expression of someone who’s died twice in a row.” and he… He said he knew. About how, no matter how many times he killed me, I’d just come back. What kind of person do you have to be? To- to know that, and do it anyway? To pit yourself against someone who’s literally impossible to defeat?” The answer is that you have to be a lot better than them. “And he just kept killing me. It took ten tries to beat Undyne. For Sans? It took me forty seven. And even then, I only won because I cheated and attacked twice in one turn! And I don’t even know if he actually died, because he went to fucking Grillby’s!” They laughed. It sounded choked. 

“Then I went to the throne room, and Asgore died in one hit like a fucking bitch. It was so unsatisfying that I went back to fight Sans again. Eventually, I killed him again, and Asgore died like a bitch again, so I went back a third time, Sans called me out for being a sick fuck, and I decided to see what would happen If I spared him that time. Man, it was awesome. He just- fucking,” Frisk loved this memory, it was hilarious. “Murdered me? It was the funniest thing ever. Told me to ‘get dunked on’ whatever that means. Then he said, if we were really friends, I wouldn’t come back,” Frisk looked at Sans, and stood up. “Guess we weren’t, huh? Since I did come back, after that. Came back to the very beginning, right after I fell. Did it right that time,” They went to leave the room, but paused in the doorway.

“Now you know,” they said quietly, and left.

[dotchi13]

How do the bitties react/handle their owner being bullied? Or if there are very harmful rumors are being spread around and no one believing the owner when they try to defend themselves?

Oh Boy oh boy. 

Nightmare: Bullying the owner is simply not acceptable. Whether Physically or through reputation they will hunt down the bully and use their powers to make the bullies regret they ever picked a fight with the owner.

Dream: Will plead to follow the Owner as defense for them, if slander is being spread he will be one of the ones that suggests the Owner be the better person and only true friends will know that the rumors have no basis. 

If push comes to shove he will shield the Owner with his powers rather than lash out. 

Murder: Oh someone’s getting their tongue removed from their mouths so they can’t speak anymore. If they find some way to continue spreading slander, that life wasn’t worth much now was it? 

Horror: Will start stealing their lunches as a petty move at first before upgrading to more aggressive tactics, will murder wildlife and leave them as threats for the bully, eventually will never leave your sight and just bite the bully whenever they get in range. 

Teeth: He will be the Sweetest and most comforting thing for you with many hugs and comfort food at your disposal, also one of those ones to ask you to be a better person and not engage with them, to find out who your real friends are, will eventually call the situation to the attention of those who can help better than he can if it doesn’t stop.

Killer: So they have chosen Death have they? 

Toriel: Will not screw around and immediately alert those bigger than her to help her give the bully a firm talking to complete with bitten back swear words and quick wit.

Queenie: Will create a safe haven for you to escape from the bully while engaging them on your behalf, also armed with quick wit and the natural ability to sway others to her side.

Raggedy: Immediately becomes aggressive, may attack them on sight, swear words are very audible and she encourages the Owner to be just as angry.

Empress: The Idea of someone bullying the Owner of an Empress is laughable but should they dare- depending on the severity of their ‘crimes’ they will either be found in an alleyway beaten or they might never be found at all. 

Mumcher: Will immediately cut through any lie simply with her severe devotion to her Owner whom she loves deeply, if the bully comes close they’re getting burned and might lose a finger while they’re on a roll like that, at the end of the day may be more upset than the bullied party because how dare they lie about their precious Owner like that.

[kryptsune]

🌼Good morning! Happy Tuesday! I wanted to share the second part of this Fellfdritch drabble. It is kind of a side thing I have been just enjoying. I am still unsure if this is going to be exactly how this story is going to go but it’s a general idea. If it becomes a proper fic then I will elaborate more. Hope you enjoy it C: Tell me what you think and if you would like to see more.

PART 1 <-- The Madhouse

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK WITHOUT MY PERMISSION IT IS NOT FOR YOUR USE. IF YOU LIKE MY WORK PLEASE REBLOG INSTEAD! It helps me so much! It makes such a difference.💙If you want more of these just let me know! It’s the only way I can gauge interest!

FELLDRITCH DRABBLE {2/3}: OFF

Frisk’s eyes remained closed feeling that familiar bed of flowers that had caught her fall. She never questioned why her body did not lay broken amongst the flora. A little sore, but that was all. How far was the fall? That detail didn’t matter. Instead, she rose from her place, eyes fluttering open to stare at the flood of light that encased her. Nothing had changed from before. She knew, however, that she would be alone in her trek to Snowdin. 

The bruises she sustained were nothing compared to the horrors of the place of her escape. They were almost non-existent. Her feet were a little sore, but that was from running at such a fast pace to get here. A soft sigh of relief passed her lips, followed by a small smile, “Welcome home Frisk,” she replied softly as if in a dream. She was finally free. Home. Safe. 

The Ruins were just a series of black stone walls mortared with ashen grey cement. It felt cold and uninviting as various vines weaved through the walls like veins. All leading to a dying heart. They threaded through cracks and alcoves, taking over what was left of what lay before. There seemed to not be a soul among the ruins. There may have been once, but all she could see was the twisting catacombs of puzzles and traps that she remembered. 

They stretched forever, all with varying shades of obsidian. Some were easy enough to solve and others were more trial and error. It was nice to see that the spike puzzle that Toriel had kindly escorted her through was still deactivated. This place felt like darkness and ice had formed. It was not warm before, but now as she made her way through empty hallways and barren rooms,  she realized how stifling the air was. How her skin was bitten by the bitter cold. How the darkness never seemed to end, but she was almost there. 

There had to be at least one living soul around here, just one. She would settle for a Froggit or a Vegitoid. Anything to break the grave silence this place was suffocated by. Not a soul. Not a sound. It was unnerving. Even before there would have been the chatter of some of the shy monsters that lived in The Ruins. Now all she heard were her own footsteps eerily echoing through the halls one crunch at a time

… crunch ...crunch ...crunch…

Stop. The memories came flooding back, painting over the dismal landscape she was now forcing herself through. A chill unlike anything she had ever felt in her life shot up her spine, freezing over her bones and skin. Her mind must have been playing tricks on her. That creepy feeling, as though she was being watched, was settling into her soul. In her mind's eye, she almost could see the scraggly shadow limbs reaching for her. A corridor infested with pitch-black as sketchy eyes filled the darkness. 

She whirled around, expecting to see the horror of her imagination, but what lay beyond was simply the path which she had come from. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Her mind was messing with her, of course. Being in an asylum for over seven years would do that to a person. It would cause them to begin to question what was really going on around them. How does one even begin to justify all she had seen? All of it was completely outside the realm of anything normal. The very idea that monsters were real and trapped by some kind of ancient magic was difficult enough to believe. That she was their friend and part of their family even more so. 

Frisk shook her head from side to side in an effort to clear her mind as she continued forward. She was now close enough to reach the room where she first learned of monster candy and spider bake sales. Maybe she could get a donut from one of Muffet’s little stands. The spiders had been so helpful before. 

Thinking she may be able to get a spider-themed treat, she made her way toward the doorway she remembered.  It was all so clear. Dr. Ruttledge was as crazy as his patients if such vivid memories were nothing more than flights of fantasy. Her breath could be seen as she huffed in annoyance just thinking about the man. Monsters were real. She was living proof as she stood there checking her surroundings. 

She had to wonder if any of the lesser monsters would remember her. Maybe they were no longer in The Ruins after she had gone through the entire Underworld. There was no reason they had to live cowering amongst the rubble any longer. A life of fear and refuge. When she had made it to the end her foster father, King Asgore, promised her that much. 

Her eyes scanned the area only to stop before the doorway. At first she thought it was just dark, but instead, she was greeted by a blockage of rubble. It must have happened long ago as the vines continued to wrap and invade whatever places they could. The large column of some unknown puzzle lay broken in pieces at her feet. 

But why did that matter?

Dainty fingers brushed over the stone gingerly. What had happened? All she could think of was that these ruins were truly abandoned now unlike before, “I guess no spider bake sale for me…” Why was everything like this? Why did this place feel so cold and lifeless? The sooner she made it to Snowdin the better.

Just as her hand slipped from the stone a soft scraping of something caught her attention. It was growing closer, only to stop. At first, the noise just reverberated off the stone walls but then it became frantic. It grew in violent intensity before it once again fell silent. 

It was coming from one of the corners.

Her only choice of action would be to run, but what was the point? The monsters here wouldn’t hurt her. Would they? Her voice slipped from her mouth in a whisper at first. Only growing in volume so that it could be heard properly, “Hello? Who's there?” Cautiously she removed herself from the wall, slipping into the adjacent hall. In one of the corners, she could just make out a small shape as it wiggled in the darkness.

Its body was scrunched against the ebony brick as if it was trying to hide in such an open space. The dull grey sheet of a body shone within the darkness, its long black feelers twitching periodically. Its wings were tucked away, fluttering only when she moved closer. 

It was a monster she remembered quite clearly. A whimsun. They had always been timid, shy little creatures that would make soft whimpering sounds; it was as if they thought you were going to kick them. The closer she drew to the creature the more things she noticed. The lower corner of its once shimmering wings was clawed. A feeler was broken, laying limply and causing it to be 'L' shaped. Parts of its back had been clawed at and were beginning to goop over. It looked like it was melting?

 Its small body convulsed as if it were about to fall apart the moment it heard her voice.

 The poor thing...

Once again she made her presence known in the most soothing voice she could muster, “Hello there. Are you alright?” She made no action to move closer as to not frighten the petrified monster. Sure, they had been scared before, but this felt like a whole new level of dread. A feeling that was slowly beginning to seep into her soul. Something was horribly off. 

She knew them for their soft whimpering, but this one was eerily silent save for the fingers it was now desperately digging into the brick, tearing at it like a feral animal. Her voice made the reaction all the worse as it's fervor grew. 

Scrape

"I won't hurt you I promise." 

Scrape       Scrape       Scrape      Scrape

The gaunt limbs of the bug-like creature tore desperately at its corner, creating that horrible scraping sound once more. It was the kind of sound one would react to on a visceral level as it dug into your ears gnawing at your skull. The kind that caused your stomach to nearly retch and ears to bleed. One might have compared it to digging your nails into the lid of a coffin. Once again, that feeling of dread bit into her soul. It slithered around her lungs, constricting what little breath she could muster. This was more than a feeling of dread.

Scrape Scrape Scrape Scrape Scrape

She reached for it, trying to calm it’s animalistic clawing, only for it to turn and stare at her. Every bone in her body froze, causing shudders of pure horror to shake her small frame. The whimsun could no longer make those soft noises as its mouth was grotesquely stitched shut with ruby thread. She couldn’t keep her hand from shakily landing on her mouth and her blue eyes swam with trepidation. It was a monstrous sight. 

Her legs quaked as she took shaky steps back using the walls as support. Her body slumped against it, just staring aghast. She could feel the rough brick against her pale flesh and forced her eyes to close. That scraping began again, clawing at her skull like someone using a spoon against the stone. Over and over and over again. It was maddening.

Heart pounding and limbs shaking, she fled the place as quickly as she could. Toriel’s old home was not that far away from where she was. No time to think. No time to act. All she wanted to do was escape. 'She needed to get out', she thought, running down the halls stumbling amidst broken columns and dust. She didn’t bother to take in her surroundings and she ran as fast as her legs could carry her. 

When she was a fair distance away from the horrifying scene that she had been subjected to, she paused, turning to look behind her. The darkness spilled from the corners, shrouding the hallways beyond in a sinister tarry cloak. Wait. It… it was slowly devouring where she had come from. Moving. Writhing. Squirming. A tarry goop like substance and its pace was increasing. 

What in stars…?

From the ceilings it began to rain down in thick black globs, landing just in front of her. It seeped through the walls, forming clawed limbs and crimson eyes. It was everywhere. In a panic, she ran. Her chest was starting to burn with every labored breath; every passing moment her legs throbbed. All she could do was try to make it to Toriel's. It was but a feeling. She would be safe there. 

It tore through the silence like a knife. An ear-splitting, howling, squishing, hissing, thundering, crackling, rasping, guttural abomination of a shriek. She could picture a tongue lolling from a cursed mouth as it made chase. A creature, unlike anything she had ever encountered. A darkness willing to swallow her whole. It’s unholy screeches and crackled gibberish forced her legs into submission without abandon.

Everything was skewed. Even her vision was beginning to warp ruined doorways and random leaves. All she could hear was her heart thundering in her eardrums. She didn’t want it to catch her. The scenery passed by, conjuring demons from another realm. The realm of her mind. This creature chasing her made the room grow darker, forcing true monsters from their crypts. She had not been blessed with night vision. Shadowy hands tried to veil her eyes, creeping closer to blind her. Soon everything would go black.

Her tears streamed down her cheeks, flying into the air. Just before the veil of darkness fell she collapsed into the door of Toriel’s home, slamming it and hearing the wood splinter. She could barely feel her legs or her lungs. Everything was on fire as she dropped to the ground. The beast was silent until it’s mass beat against the frame screeching in ungodly rage. Her fatigued body rested against the door as her soft cries mixed with its masticated words. Surely it couldn’t speak, but she knew it was.

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It was right next to her ear, whispering its guttural broken tongue in huffing rasps and then. It was gone. Frisk couldn’t even breathe as she lay there helpless with her back pressed against the frigid wood. Was she safe? All she wanted to do was sit here to calm her shaking. Her eyes fell to her shivering hands. She was unable to hold them still. The feeling of being watched never left her. When her eyes slid closed she saw that symbol one again in the darkness appearing like a mist. It glowed a deep crimson like that of freshly spilled blood. 

A giant. All-seeing. Eye.

Soft sobs added to her hyperventilating as her red orbs flew open. The vision was gone but the symbol was not. Shakily she rose to her feet hearing her own struggles as her hand gripped the frame for support. A few moments of quiet breathing would calm her. In and out. In and out.  It was all she could do to repeat those words over and over till she was able to see, to hear, to speak clearly. She had made it to Toriel's. The first step in her journey was over. It would not be long now before she would welcome that frosted air. Those seas of deep cherry wood.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead, only adding to her disheveled look. Her hands were still shaking from the whole ordeal as she cupped them within one another to step further into the room. It was just as she remembered it. Not a single speck of dust. Not a frame or carpet out of place. She couldn’t stay, she already knew that, but maybe in her old room, she would find something more suitable to wear.

Her hand reached for the golden knob, pushing the door open with a soft creak of its hinges. She rummaged through various drawers to find something more fitting. A simple black shirt and a pair of pants. She even found a white zip-up hoodie among her old things, and she was grateful that Toriel kept them. Her promise held that much value to them. She would return to help them, terrifying goop beasts aside. Where had that thing come from anyway, and why did it want her head?

She reveled in the black hoodie fluff for a moment before heading back into the hall. It was normal. Clean. Pretty and warm. Everything she remembered was here. Safe and in its proper place, but it was time to go. Soon she would truly be with her family. She could picture the scene as she strode toward the landing. A small smile painted on her lips feeling a warm spark within her soul. Home. That’s all she wanted. She wanted to be with them. 

The lights flickered suddenly, casting sinister dancing shadows on the walls stretching upward to consume the space. No. She did not want to be left alone in the dark, and she was so fatigued from before. She just could not seem to get a break as she made her way forward. The lights went out, leaving her in stifling darkness. Her only sense was hearing and she slid her hands over the walls to keep her bearings. 

The ringing rattled her brain and an explosion of wood and glass reached her ears. Another hissing howl tore through the silence, breaking everything in its path. At first, it was in front of her, and she could hear the wooden planks groan in protest under the creature's weight. A vase shattered as if it had been thrown violently against the wall. She did not know what was causing all of this. All she could do was listen. It mangled the room, tearing into carpets with sickening rips. 

A soft warm puff of air tickled her cheek. A breath. A huff. The rumble that reverberated from its chest rose and fell. She only prayed it wouldn’t cause her to lose the one sense she still had. It's lumbering form moved past her in the dark, but she could hear that disgusting squelch and dripping of saliva right beside her. Then the lights returned. Nothing was there. 

The once pristine home was ransacked and its walls were covered in claw marks. Shelves hung precariously from a single nail. Vases were shattered and strewn about the floor. Broken glass. Dead plants. This place was not pristine. It was in shambles. All the signs of decay infected the place. The vines had started to curl around the banister to the lower floor. The same one she was now making her way toward. That is until she looked up. 

The roof had caved in, exposing the rotting bones of the structure as it spilled more debris from high above. It landed on top of her now, dust gathering in her hair, but that was not what had her attention. No. It was the horrifying image that lay painted on the wall of the main foyer. The symbol in her vision. 

It dripped down the wall freshly painted in blood red. The monsters did not bleed, so where did it come from? The image of an eye with its pupil crossed out. It was framed by a half-circle with spires jutting out along the line. Just below the symbol were words she could just understand. Very simplistic depictions of a mouth, an eye, and an ear. The way it was sketchily painted made her shiver. 

No more. She had to leave this place.

 Get out. 

Those were her thoughts but they did not come from her lips. A whispering, crackly, and breathy voice echoed it as she descended the steps. It only grew more frequent the closer she drew to the door. The door that represented her freedom now even more than before.

GET OUT

The same unnerving symbol greeted her, sloppily painted where the Delta Rune used to rest in all its metallic glory. She remembered how beautiful and intricate metalwork was as it wove in and out of itself. It had been crafted with care. Now all that was left were the two empty recesses where it once proudly lay, replaced by something she knew nothing of. Had so much changed in less than a decade? Had it really been the amount of time she was told? 

GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT.

Her hand rested on the door only to hear the voice again, but it began to pierce her ears as it rose in volume and intensity, forcing her to cover her ears. The ringing. The screaming. The distorted voices and whispers. It hurt. She felt as though her head would explode from the inside out, “No… stop… please.” A pathetic whimper followed by her cries filled the room. In a panic and frenzy, she clawed at the door forcing it open, “STOP! PLEASE STOP!”

GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT. 

She shoved her way through those deep purple double doors and just before they fell closed the screaming stopped. Only a soft whisper remained.

listen

It slammed shut behind her, sealing away what she felt the monsters had been trying to keep inside. The beast that had been stalking her. She leaned against the door panting and doubling over to regain her breath. All was silent. A palette of frosty blues, whites, and deep cherry spanned her vision. Snowdin Forest. Tired eyes fluttered closed as she panted feeling that familiar burn of ice within her lungs. She could just smell the crisp evergreens, the fresh snow, and earth.

Snowdin was her hope. She placed a hand over her chest finally ready to once again continue her journey home. The soft crunch of snow under her shoes was inviting and though she was not well dressed for the weather, it was the kind of cold to which she had once grown accustomed. She was sure Boss would warm her up with some of his cooking. A hot meal on a cold day. 

The trees felt neverending, stretching high above her. If one looked up it could have made them dizzy. She was just lost in the environment. The dark bark of the trees were such a stark contrast from the pure white of the snow that lay at their feet. Their strange carmine leaves were scattered here and there. It was truly a unique place. 

Her attention stayed on the winding path ahead. She knew Sans's sentry station would be up ahead, but There was no rest. Its crack rang into the open air. The snap of a branch. Something was watching her. She didn’t have the energy to run. Her exhaustion was too great. The combination of running and mental terror. All the things she had seen. It was all unbelievable. Grotesque. Horrifying. It was all wrong. So horribly wrong. 

It shook her soul to its core, and she ended up at a dead end. All she could do was stare up at the wooden barrier, placing her hands weakly on the wood. She could hear something scuffling toward her. Her heart once again beat harder than it should, nearly lodging in her throat. Helpless. That was how she felt as she turned to face the beast, eyes screwed shut and unable to keep the tears from her cheeks. 

Even back then she had never felt this level of fear. It had been hard, but never did she fear for her life at such an intensity. Her lips quivered as its shadow fell over her. She felt like a cornered animal. One that had no means to defend itself. An easy kill, “Please… I don’t know what happened here. Please…” A pathetic plea was choked by her soft cries. 

Its hand fell on her, pulling her from the wooden barrier she had been backed into. She could picture it tearing her throat out and ripping her to shreds. How her blood would stain the snow a deep red. What would be left of her would decorate the snow like a sick ornament. 

Her eyes reluctantly forced themselves open. The creature towered over her with a skeletal mouth gaping open showing off sets of sharp, flesh-eating teeth. Its eyes were lifeless black pits and two sets of bark-like antlers protruded from its skull. That same symbol she had seen on the door sat at the crest of its skull along with a pentagram etched into the bone. It’s long billowing robes just fluttered in the wind and its face was framed by deep charcoal fluff. A single ruby thread appeared to glow where it had been used around the jaw and antlers. 

All she could do was force her eyes closed once more as her body grew cold. Its shadow was sucking all the warmth from her body as she shook her head. She was desperate. Her desire was to return, but now she may not even see them ever again. The tears that stained her cheeks left icy trails on her porcelain skin. Please. Her lungs burned and she was unable to speak; it felt like acid had been poured down her throat to spread like poison throughout her body. 

The voice that broke the silence was not her own.

“Frisk?”    

[gasters-story]

Fallen's Chapter 1

Word Count: 1,875

Fallen was sorting his bookshelves, though only because he wanted to change his method to sorting them again. It was one of his nervous ticks to organize and since he never really had anything, he just found new ways for old stuff.

When Fallen was done, he looked back at Sam's. The young skeleton was intently reading a book at a nearby table, wearing a soft smile. Soon Papyrus would be born, probably in the next week, so Fallen and Sans had that to look forward to. For now they planned to relax and wait, spending time in any way they can.

Fallen was the first to look over when he heard the door open. Asgore stood in the doorway, scanning the room with his intimidating look, before heading over to Fallen. It was a nerve-wracking silence until Asgore spoke.

"Gaster, please don't tell me you used the only two souls we had." Asgore begged the scientist somewhat. Although it seemed he didn't have that much anger in his tone, to Fallen it sounded angry enough to bring up his anxiety.

"Of course to-" Fallen muttered while fidgeting with his hands but was cut off. 

"Do you realize how much later that can put us? I might not even be king by then! It's bad enough that Toriel wants us to at least wait until their deathbed to take their souls. We could have only needed five more! Hell, maybe even just four if you never rushed to bring her back." Fallen just listened to the king rant, trying not to care about not being able to explain why. Sans watched, both confused and scared, but didn't say a word. "For the next human, don't you dare bring them back. It halves the power of their soul too, making no point to recollect them." Fallen didn't want there to be a point anyways.

Once the king was out of things to rant on and on about or couldn't repeat anything with a purpose, he finally decided to leave the skeletons alone. Fallen let out a sigh and noticed Sans coming over to hug him.

"Who was that?" Sans asks. Fallen didn't know how to answer at first but knelt down to hug back. He realized Sans probably would never know about the cruel outside world. At least Fallen didn't want him to know. 

"Someone mean who has control of a lot of power." Fallen muttered. "You might have to listen to him someday." He didn't know what else to say. He just knew his bones wouldn't last forever.

Fallen felt a bit down after that event, just tapping his fingers on his desk as he waited with nothing to do. It wasn't until Sans came into the room that Fallen would have something to stop his rhythmic tapping.

"Can you read me a story before bed?" The child asks. Fallen couldn't help but smile softly. Maybe he should rest too.

"Sure." The child leads Fallen to his room so they could read a story together. The scientist tried to focus on the small things like these moments with Sans rather than what Asgore had said. They waited out the time together quicker that way, whether Sans was drawing something, playing an imaginary game, or reading a book he picked out. It also gave Fallen ideas on what he could do.

Sans was excited when Papyrus was born. He tried helping his brother walk his first steps, a struggle since Papyrus was younger. While Fallen watched the two, he also gave Sans advice about taking care of his brother. The young skeleton accepted every bit and by the end of the day he had his younger brother walking. All three were proud of the accomplishment. With Papyrus around, Fallen had to keep him nearby for his safety. He tried to work on a security system for the lab while Papyrus took his naps, mostly where Fallen's free time went. He knew it would be a tough job from the start so it at least didn't bother him that much. Sans usually helped out anyways. 

The older brother always wanted to read Papyrus a story if he could. He was eager to play with him too while also trying to teach him some things. Fallen could rely on that time to draw plans or read his own books. A time to relax and distract his mind.

Whenever Asgore came over, Fallen typically had Sans and Papyrus in another room. He didn't like them hearing Asgore complain, though he was sure they listened in anyways. That alone made Fallen anxious of Asgore's surprise visits. Papyrus might pick up something he shouldn't.

Luckily it didn't seem to happen as far as Fallen can tell.

It wouldn't be long until Asriel is born into the underground world. By the time he's around four, Asgore would drop him off for Fallen to babysit him occasionally. Fallen would try to teach Asriel some things and watch over all three kids closely when they played. He wasn't sure how Asriel was raised so he was slightly overprotective of his boys.

While he eventually relaxed on that, he still taught just as much. Asriel came out a bit nicer than he would've if not and he tended to like that so he came over often. Fallen took a bit of pride in that.

Still it had it's cons with Asgore coming over more often. Fallen tried not to think about that too much. Too much for him mentally. 

Fallen almost thought one night Asriel had snuck out to visit by the loud crash of something falling to hit the ground. While he found the source of the crash, he didn't find out who or what caused it. He went to check on Sans and Papyrus, expecting to see one of them retreating back to bed but instead found them just waking up. Fallen told them to stay there as he went to go out and look. Maybe Asriel retreated somewhere, if it was him at all. It was a slightly stretched guess.

Fallen didn't expect to see a startled human child as the culprit. They were trying to hide behind Fallen's scientific equipment stored in one of the rooms, probably waiting for him to go back to bed. The scientist decided to approach cautiously, guessing they were scared from the other monsters they saw previously.

Fallen went around the counter they hid behind. They stared at him with terrified eyes before suddenly running past him to get away. Fallen reacted quick and used his magic to pick them up by the soul. They still struggled to try to keep running anyways.

"Please calm down." Fallen wasn't sure how exactly to get on their good side after all the terrorizing clearly done with their poorly wrapped bandages around some of their wounds.

The child began to watch Fallen carefully until Papyrus and Sans shuffled into the room suddenly. Papyrus whined a bit loud as he went to hug the scientist. The human seemed to relax at seeing the family. "Who's that?" Papyrus points at them.

"A visitor." Fallen explained. "A human." Papyrus blinked a few times to register the words.

"So… a friend?" He beamed a smile. Fallen let out a soft chuckle as he slowly and gently put the human down. They didn't run, having an advantage already by being at the door, but they watched Fallen advise and lead his kids back to bed. When they asked if they could hang out with the human tomorrow, Fallen gave them a maybe.

Fallen turned to the human and gave a kind smile. "I apologize for what you must have gone through. This is a place where I try to keep the outside out for my kids. You can rest here if you'd like, though.

Clearly, they were skeptical at first. The human watched Fallen for a moment before looking around the room. The scientist decided to leave them be as they left the room but locked the door from the inside as he followed after. Just insurance.

While Fallen couldn't sleep like the other two young skeletons, he decided to work at his desk and write down whatever comes to mind. Sometimes he would him a tune out loud, typically when he had nothing else in mind, but otherwise it was quiet for a few hours.

Fallen decided at one point to check if the human left the labs, only to find them still wandering restlessly. He decided to wave when they looked over. They shrank away a bit yet waved back just slightly.

"Would you like some first aid for your wounds?" Fallen asks with a slight gesture at the other. They clearly had to think about it but eventually gave a slow nod. Fallen smiled and shuffled off for his medical kit. It took a bit but soon he was back to replace old bandages and add new ones to still uncovered wounds. He did his best without hurting them, though slightly unavoidable, to try to not upset them. He wanted a good impression after what everyone else had left on them instead.

"Th-thanks." The human muttered under their breath once he was done.

"You're welcome." Fallen responded. "May I get your name?" He asks as he puts the kit to side.

The child hesitated again. "Chara. That's my name." They bowed their head as if slightly ashamed. Fallen smiled once again.

"It's nice to meet you." He says. "What do you plan to do now? You've gotten pretty far, but I'm not sure if there is a way out." He let out a small sigh. "Even for a human." 

"There isn't…?" They muttered in disappointment. "Really?" Fallen shook his head.

"After testing a lot of different things, it seems so. I know where you can try, if you really want to. You won't have to leave the labs." Fallen says and gets up from the cahri he was in to treat Chara's wounds.

"There's a way out of here?" Chara asks. Fallen gives them a nod. "Where?"

"Follow me if you want to test the option." The scientist says and begins to lead them. He puts up the kit first before leading them down into the lowest part of the lab. Chara followed him even if anxious about doing so.

They headed out into a cave area and came across a piece of the barrier. "This is it." Fallen steps and turns to Chara. "I've known these labs most of my second life. If you can leave out here, you can get to the outside world. If not, you'll be stuck here until the chance arises." 

Chara cringed slightly at that idea. "Okay." They stepped forward and reached out to touch the barrier. Sadly, they were able to flatten their palm against it. "I guess it's the latter."

"Unfortunately so." Fallen comments. "So what will you do now?" He asks.

Chara took a moment to think about it. "I… I think I'll stay here, if it's the safest option, and wait for my chance to leave if that's okay." They gently bit their lip as they waited for a response.

"That's fine by me." Fallen said with a soft smile.

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[Index]

[ihasafandom]

argentdandelion          How to Add Angst to the Pacifist Route

Oh, wow, that's a good point. Frisk's age is estimated as 8-12, but Frisk is likely to approach all the angst differently depending on age. (I seriously doubt Frisk is 3, though.) 

It really depends on how they fell. A three year old is really unlikely to be up on a mountain falling into holes. 

But as long as they DID fall, they only really need to be able to walk. Toriel guides them through the first part of the ruins, and if they die they come back the same physical age. It might take them a LONG time to get through the ruins. But the only limit, if we extrapolate to the horrific, is how long Toriel is willing to wait for. So long as the longest length of time accumulated between save points is less than the amount of time that Toriel takes to shop and bake a pie, then Frisk can take as long as they need to happen upon the correct route to her.  Even if they spend an hour or two here and there chatting with Froggits or having a nap, so long as they have to load again after it doesn’t count towards the time Toriel assumes they have had to wait.   

And if Frisk is too young to automatically save at every save point they might get to know each part of the route well enough that the final result doesn't look like very long at all.

The other main limiter on Frisk's age is how old they would have to be before Toriel will risk leaving them alone at all. And that depends on how much she knows about the human development cycle and how very young children behave. She may have even expected those froggits at the start to keep watch, who knows.

When it comes right down to it, the Frisk that walks out of the ruins and back into Toriel’s age might act a lot older than they did when they first met her.

argentdandelion          How to Add Angst to the Pacifist Route

I didn’t really consider the whole “Controlled by The Player and/or Chara” angle for the Pacifist Route, and, boy, that was an omission. To be controlled from afar by some unseen, unknowable entity or filled with constant compulsions, even when it’s all for friendly things, must be terrifying. Sometimes, I consider an interpretation where Frisk thinks the Player is a god and Chara an angel, which could just add to the fear and helplessness.

Or, something more horrific: Frisk is controlled by The Player in the most angsty-possible interpretation so long that, when they’re finally in control of their actions again, they don’t even remember how to act on their own desires. Or, if barely aware of the fact their compulsions are such, suddenly being unable to maintain the new personality or facade or role to the monsters once The Player is gone.

P.S. I love the creative and thorough approach to making even the harmless and friendly Pacifist Route horrific. I believe you post about Animorphs; I wonder if being controlled by The Player could be a similar horror to being controlled by a Yeerk?

Thanks! Undertale’s so open-ended in what information you get, so there’s a lot of things you can do with it. Thanks for leaving this particular interpretation open for me to explore here.

Frisk being controlled so long that they forget how to do things of their own volition is VERY Animorphs. A lot of fans have speculated that ex-controllers no longer show unconscious tics like facial expressions, or have difficulty moving, or are passive and opinionless. With the ones taken as children being the worst off because they didn't get to experience the childhood bits where your brain is growing the most. I think the biggest difference would be that in animorphs the yeerk can still hear and react to your thoughts, read all your memories and emotions, and is trying to pretend to BE you while also advancing the alien invasion cause. So you would still have someone who could hear you, even if it was your captor. Meanwhile, the player isn't listening to Frisk. We don't know Frisk's past, and they could be anyone. They are anonymous until the very end, and the loss of that anonymity something that I used for horror in that ficlet.  I am unsure which is worse.