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dragonasheswrites-blog · 6 years

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The Heaven We Didn’t Choose, Chapter 8: In Which The Internet is Invoked

...And Sans nearly loses his edgelord club membership card.

First: Chapter 1: In Which a Child Makes a Friend

Previous: Chapter 7: In Which Skeletons are Explained

Next: Chapter 9: In Which Dog Marriage Saves the Day

Click here for the story overview.

The next day went about as well as Sans expected. He was once again woken up by the flurry of alarms reminding him of Undyne’s impending invasion of the apartment, but he made sure to have Attie up and dressed in ’training clothes’ before she arrived.

It was worth the extra effort. Undyne had calmed considerably, having apparently slept at some point, but she kept eyeing him with a very...intense expression. Attie demanded enough of her attention that she didn’t say anything, but he felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding.

Either Frisk had made good on her threat to talk to Undyne about Boss or Sans had messed up on his paperwork again. Possibly both. He was betting on the former, though, especially since Boss hadn’t come back to the apartment the previous evening.

This meant that Undyne wound up giving them a crash course in breakfast...literally. The kitchen looked like a war zone by the time they were finished, with globs of oatmeal across the ceiling, floor, and stove top. The oatmeal itself was full of dark brown flakes that made Attie wince every time she took a bite. He made a mental note to look up an oatmeal-making tutorial on Youtube; there had to be a more efficient way to do this.

“No paperwork today,” Undyne said once she’d scarfed down her own portion of oatmeal. “The queen’s doing the morning visit before she meets with the...well, with...important people. We’re also moving her room and posting a guard outside.”

Sans blinked at her, slowly. “...What are you talking about?”

She growled. “Frisk. The ambassador. Queen Toriel is going to see her this morning to assess her status. You,” she gestured to both of them with a strange figure eight motion, “stay here. You can see her this afternoon if you get the all-clear, but text me first. We’re relocating her to a more defensible room and posting a guard. Make sure you bring your ID, ass-clown, or you’ll be locked out.”

“Don’t lock me out!” Attie said, grabbing Undyne’s arm. “I wanna see my mommy!”

“Oh, you can go on in just fine, punk; the guards won’t bother you. They’re just gonna make sure no one gets to see your mommy without permission. If a bad guy tries something funny they’ll beat ‘im up! It’s for security, right?”

“Cool!” The girl bounced in her seat. “Can I be security for Mommy too? I wanna beat up bad guys!”

“Haha! You’ve gotta train a little harder than THAT if you wanna be in the Guard! Ready?”

“Ready!”

“I’ll be here,” Sans said, staring intently at the last globs of oatmeal in his bowl. “You guys have fun.”

Being lifted by his skull was a new and special kind of painful, he discovered. Also, Undyne’s grin was even more terrifying close up.

“You’re not getting out of training THAT easy, nerd! A little exercise never hurt anyone!”

Attie made a mad dash for the living room, screaming about training and friendship and how wonderful everything in her little life was.

The next hour and a half could only be described as torture. Sans didn’t know a whole lot about humans and fish-monsters (or whatever Undyne was), but he was very certain that skeletons were not designed to bend in some of the ways she was trying to make him bend. He could feel the strain on his joints; he was sure he was going to dislocate something. It didn’t help that the stretches were interspersed with periods of intense movement, pushing his still-sore bones well past their limit. He hoped Boss never found out about this; the big guy had enough punishment ideas to last him a lifetime.

He collapsed onto the couch when Undyne finally stopped.

“That was a GREAT warm-up,” she said. “Now for the REAL training!”

Sans debated crawling under the couch. There wasn’t a lot of space under there; his skull and ribcage would be a problem...

She laughed at him. “I’m just kidding, NERD! Don’t you know how to take a joke? Hey, hey Attie, look at this loser! He can’t even do a little exercise!”

“Mr. Sans isn’t a loser,” Attie solemnly reminded her. “He’s a asshole.”

“You BET he is! Anyways, make sure he doesn’t fall asleep, huh?”

“Okay!”

His phone went off. Oh, right; he hadn’t texted Frisk all morning. He’d get on that. Just as soon as he could feel his arms again.

“Mr. Sans?”

His vision started going...a little fuzzy…

“-ey? Hey? Can you hear me?”

Sans looked up at Undyne. She was looking a little worried or angry, one of the two. He wasn’t sure why; he hadn’t actually passed out, had he? “‘Mfine,” he mumbled into the couch cushion.

“Yeah, no, punk. Attie, go grab me the bottle of green juice in your fridge and a cup. Sans, talk to me.”

“‘M fine."

She huffed. “You’re an idiot. No, listen to me: you’re an idiot. Anyone knows to speak up when they’re being pushed too far. Except you, I guess. Do you know what’s happening? Your magic levels are so low you’re losing HP. Slowly, but still. You’re literally killing yourself.”

“Thought a little exercise never hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, a little exercise. We didn’t even do much, really. Heck, Attie’s had more exercise over the past few days than we normally do in a week, and she’s just fine. You? You collapsed under your own lack of magic. We’re not even practicing magic, beyond whatever’s holding you together and making you move! You’d have to do...well, pretty much no exercise at all on a regular basis AND be super low on magic to get to this point.”

“Sounds ‘bout right.”

“And that’s why you’re an idiot. Oh - thanks, Attie.” She took the bottle of juice, poured some into the cup, and pushed it towards Sans.

He managed to get himself upright and tipped... most of the juice into his mouth. It tasted like something that was brewed in a froggit’s armpit, but he did feel better after. “...What is that stuff?”

“Magic-infused sports drink. Good for the body AND the SOUL! The Royal Scientist came out with it a few years back. You never heard of it?”

“It’s disgusting.”

“I’ve seen what you leave behind at your sentry post; you have no right to criticize anyone else’s eating or drinking habits.”

Fair enough.

“Also, next time we do this, frickin’ tell me when you’re about to collapse, would ya?”

“Gee, didn’t know you cared.” Also: next time??

“Oh, I don’t. Someone needs to watch this little punk, though, and she seems kinda fond of you. Stars know why.” She ruffled Attie’s hair.

The kid grinned widely. “It’s ‘cause he feeds me hot dogs and lets me do fun science and lets me color and takes me to see my mommy. And he didn’t let Mommy die and he helped me beat Mr. Papyrus and stuff.”

Sans eyed her. “...Right.”

“I told Undie all about the fight with Mr. Papyrus! I have her phone number in my phone and I was texting her last night when I was supposed to be sleeping.”

“‘M I gonna have to take your phone away at bedtime?”

“Noooo!” She flopped over onto the couch next to him dramatically.

Undyne laughed. “Well, since you’re not about to dust, I’ll be off. Drink another glass of that stuff, asshole. Attie, make sure he does.”

“Okay!”

“And Vice Captain Papyrus will be back sometime this evening. If he scares you at all, even just a little bit, you tell this worthless lump here to get you out and you text me. Okay?”

“Okay!”

“Oh, and a word of advice, Sans?”

He raised his head a fraction.

“Walk around a little. You’ll be even worse off if you don’t.”

The very atmosphere seemed to deflate when Undyne left. Sans felt like melting into the couch cushions and just...not moving until Boss came back and kicked his lazy butt into gear.

“Come ooooon!” Attie whined, grabbing the back of his jacket and trying to drag him off the couch. She was succeeding. “Undie said you have to keep moving! If she says so then we have to do it!”

“Noooo.” Sans dug his claws into the couch, trying to anchor himself without leaving obvious rips that Boss would scream at him for.

His phone went off again.

He reluctantly disentangled himself from the kid enough to sit up (though she wound up clinging to his back) and pulled it out.

Frisky Dreamer 9:22 AM Sans, I’m waiting for a check-in.

Frisky Dreamer 9:42 AM I’m calling Undyne if I don’t hear from you in five minutes.

You 9:44 AM Undie just left We were doing morning torture

Frisky Dreamer 9:44 AM Explain. Now.

You 9:46 AM U know the stretching and the posing and the running in place that kindve thing The usual stuff undie likes

Frisky Dreamer 9:46 AM Training?

You 9:47 AM Yeah that

Frisky Dreamer 9:47 AM Don’t call Captain Undyne’s training ‘torture,’ or I’ll tell her you called her “Undie.”

You 9:48 AM U got it

“Oooh, ask her if we can come see her this afternoon!” Attie said, leaning over his shoulder.

You 9:49 AM Kid wants to know when we can come see you this afternoon If ur up for it

Attie dragged him off the couch when no answer came immediately. He reluctantly shuffled his tired bones around the living room a few times, but gave up when his phone remained silent. “Uh, you’d better change your clothes, kid. Maybe your mom’ll text us back later. She’s probably busy, remember?”

“Oh, yeah! Granny Ree’s visiting her this morning, right?”

“Right. So let’s see if we can find something your mom’ll approve of, okay?”

“Okay!”

Attie wound up in a yellow and white striped shirt and jeans. He mentally reviewed the fashion lessons from the morning before. It looked...pretty good? Jeans went with everything, right? He couldn’t tell if the yellow was supposed to be ‘good’ or ‘bad’ for Attie’s skin color (all of that had gone clear over his skull) but Frisk wouldn’t have bought her kid a shirt that looked bad on her, right?

...Hopefully?

He snapped a picture and sent it to the overbearing mother, hoping for the best.

Schoolwork went better than the day before. Sans was still mostly lost, but a few subjects (mostly Math and Science) weren’t too different from what he’d been taught in the Underground. At seven years old, Attie wasn’t doing anything too complicated; he was able to follow along and help out fairly well.

It reminded him of teaching Boss, really. The sad structure that passed for a school in Snowdin had burned to the ground around the time Sans graduated (in a completely unrelated incident, not that he hadn’t been tempted), so Boss had been deprived of a few years’ formal education. It had been challenging to get an excitable babybones to sit still long enough to do a page of multiplication, but he’d done his best.

His best, he knew, wasn’t great. It was probably the reason Boss turned out the way he had.

Attie, at least, was used to the routine. She knew to check her list of schoolwork (Undyne had left it on the counter this time, and had removed the one she’d pinned up with the knife) and found her assignments based on the numbers associated with each subject. It boggled Sans’s mind. Teaching kids at home was, apparently, something humans had simplified greatly. There was a whole system of what to do each day and everything. It made remembering to text Frisk a little easier, too; he just shot off a text as they finished each subject. Attie did the same, happy for an excuse to use her new phone.

Lunch was hot dogs, again. Attie, predictably, demanded that Sans eat his all in one bite. He initially refused, but...well, the thing she did with her eyes was growing on him. He caved and swallowed his hot dog whole.

He didn’t sit still long enough for Attie to take a picture of him doing it. She did her best, but it wasn’t quite enough.

Ding!

Frisky Dreamer 12:58 PM Sans, what exactly are you teaching my daughter?

You 12:59 PM Nothing were just having lunch

Frisky Dreamer 12:59 PM So bragging to a young girl about how you can swallow weiners is normal for you?

Sans squinted at his phone, trying to make sense of the message. He knew ‘weiner’ was another word for ‘hot dog,’ but...he felt there was something he was missing.

You 1:00 PM Kinda i mean i run a ‘dog stand Dont really talk to the customers but sometimes onell wonder y a skeleton needs food Where r u going with this?

Frisky Dreamer 1:02 PM I can’t decide if you’re naive, stupid, or far more creepy than I ever gave you credit for. Where is Attie now?

He looked around. The kid was at the table doing more Grammar. He snapped a picture.

You 1:04 PM *1 picture message sent

Frisky Dreamer 1:05 PM Okay.

You 1:06 PM Kiddo what the hell is going on

Frisky Dreamer 1:07 PM You can’t do that anymore. And stars, keep Attie from talking about your ‘hot dog trick.’

You 1:08 PM Uh y

Frisky Dreamer 1:09 PM BECAUSE I WON’T HAVE YOU INVOLVING MY DAUGHTER IN YOUR DIRTY PRANKS!!

Yep, he was definitely missing something.

You 1:10 PM U high again? I have no idea what ur talking about

Frisky Dreamer 1:10 PM Stupid it is, then. Look it up. NOT around Attie.

Sans double-checked that Attie was studying and not peeking over his shoulder, then opened the web browser on his phone. He typed in ‘eat a weiner.’

Oh. OH.

...Humans were disgusting.

You 1:12 PM So uh what the hell U humans r crazy Like what even Y would u do that with ur mouths With all ur gross fluids Thats unsanitary Like wow

Frisky Dreamer 1:15 PM That’s about the reaction I was expecting. So NO MORE, OKAY?

You 1:15 PM I may never eat a hot dog again What the hell Y didnt anyone say anything Like do people think im some kind of weirdo for working at a dog stand Like theyre just in the store with other food Is that normall Is tht what huans do

Frisky Dreamer 1:17 PM Oh, you sweet, innocent child. You have no idea.

You 1:17 PM Y do humans destroy everything good This is a travesty against Science Like y

Frisky Dreamer 1:19 PM Sans, calm down.

You 1:19 PM O ok Uh So No more dogs for the kid

Frisky Dreamer 1:20 PM They are just normal food. Deal with it however you want. It’s just that said food happens to vaguely resemble part of the human anatomy that a little girl DOES NOT need to know or think about. Just watch your words, okay?

You 1:23 PM O so im off the hook

Frisky Dreamer 1:23 PM Not hardly.

“Mr. Sans?”

Sans quickly pocketed his phone and looked over at Attie, holding her Grammar workbook to her chest. “What’s up, kid?”

“Are you okay?”

“Uh...fine? Why do you ask?”

“You’ve been texting for a long time now. And you look kinda sick.”

“Heh, yeah?” He gripped his phone, wishing he had some of that...what did humans call it? The stuff that makes you forget stuff? Brain bleach? “Your mom was just telling me that ‘dogs aren’t good for ya. So I guess that’s out. For now, at least.”

“Awwwww.”

“Yeah, me too, kid.” He was never going to live this down, he realized.

“Say, uh, you done with your school?”

“I’m done with Grammar. It was easy today.”

“Yeah, uh, great. What’s next?”

Sans fought for focus the rest of the afternoon. It wasn’t so much that humans apparently had some weird kinky ideas about what to do with their gross squishy body parts and fluids (though that was part of it); it was the fact that he’d lived on the surface for seven years and had never come across such an idea. Did humans think it was weird that a monster had a hot dog stand? Why had no one said anything to him?

Oh, right. He was a rude, violent asshole who hated people.

That...probably explained a lot.

Still.

“Can you help me with art today?” Attie asked.

“Uh, I’m not really an artsy guy, kid.”

“It’s okay. Everyone can do art. Making art is a way of showing other people how you see the world; that’s what Mommy says.”

“That sounds…” kinda whimpy, actually, “...cool?”

“Yep! And today I’m feeling spikey!”

“Wait, what?”

“Do you have toothpicks and glue, Mr. Sans?”

As it happened, Sans found an unopened jumbo box of toothpicks in the back of a drawer. Attie found glue...somewhere. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know where. “What now?”

“Now, we build stuff! Here, can you hold this?”

Over the next hour or so, Attie glued toothpicks (and half of Sans’s fingers) into a spiked wooden death trap. It was actually a little impressive. The design was basic - a pit trap with spikes in the bottom - but the pit cover had working hinges that allowed it to drop open in the middle...once he disentangled himself from it. They’d found a pair of old bottle caps, and gluing one on each side of the pit cover gave the two halves enough of a counter-weight to reset themselves each time. She found a bag of grapes in the fridge and amused herself with rolling them over the top of the pit and watching them fall to their squishy deaths on the toothpicks below.

There wasn’t enough force to actually impale the grapes properly, but it was the thought that counted. For a seven-year-old, she was well on her way towards carrying on the proud monster tradition of death traps. Not for the first time, Sans wondered if he should be worried.

Then the kiddo surprised him. She’d been rolling grapes onto the death trap, watching the cover open and close, and out of the blue she asked why it worked the way it did. Sans hadn’t expected that, not from a kid her age, but gave her an overview of the physics. She was trying to understand, he knew, but her eyes glazed over halfway through his explanation.

“...Well, that’s enough for today. We’d better head out if you wanna go see your mom.”

“Okay! Can I bring my deadly death trap of grape death?”

“I...think that’d be a bad idea. You don’t wanna scare the humans, do ya?”

“Yep! I wanna scare ALL the humans! Well, except for the people at the Embassy. They’re nice.”

“Oookay. You don’t think the doctors are nice?”

“Nnnope! They give you shots and take your temper’ture and do things that make your soul feel funny. They try to bribe you with stickers but Mommy said that she got candy as a kid and that’s way better than stickers.”

“Eh, fair enough. Put your shoes and jacket on and we’ll go terrorize some doctors. Uh...without your death trap.”

“Aawww! Why?”

“Think of it as...a challenge?”

Attie whooped a wild war cry and charged off to find her outerwear. She really was like a little Boss in some ways.

He was sure he was forgetting something. What had Undyne said?

Oh. Right.

You 4:42 PM Hey undyne im gonna take the kid to see her mom

Capn Undie 4:44 PM HANG ON ASSHOLE

There was a long pause, and Sans took the time to retrieve his ID from where he’d left it in the pocket of his other pants. He hated disturbing the sanctity of his laundry pile but showing up without identification to one of Undyne’s checkpoints was always unpleasant.

His phone gave a loud ping.

Capn Undie 4:53 PM You’re cleared with security. Room 249, down the hall and around the corner from the old room. BRING YOUR ID and we’ll have no problems, got it??

You 4:56 PM Got it

Capn Undie 4:59 PM And don’t even THINK about causing trouble or I’ll have you KICKED OUT. You can sit outside while Attie does whatever she does visiting her mom. I’m sure there’s a kiddie chair we can grab for you.

Sans narrowed his eye sockets. “Hey, Attie? You ready to go yet?”

“Not yet!” Attie appeared with her shoes on, holding her jacket. “My laces were being doo-doo-butts,” she said conversationally.

“...Right. Okay. Hey, why don’t you grab that death trap after all? And some grapes; we can show yer mom how it works.”

“Physics!” Attie screamed as she stumbled off to find her creation.

Sans grinned.

#Dragonashes writes #Undertale #Underfell #The Heaven We Didn't Choose #Sans #Attie #Undyne #Vague references to adult themes #Sans does not understand humans #He also thinks humans are gross #Deadly death trap of grape death

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dev-hub4fixfict-ut · 7 years

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Know & Determinate: II- the surface and a lame witch; chap 1

/racism, /hate crime, /physical assault, /alcohol, /c slur, /unsanitary, /witchcraft, /panic attack, bad writing. like, really bad. i wrote this when i was in a bs brainspace in highschool to cope.

a self-insert fanfiction where i write what happens after my runs of undertale. written in google docs and idk what im doing. Frisk is 12, use they/them, has a bullshit life, Chara also uses they/them, and is still here, and never meant for all this to happen, they hate each other, and Sans is still, and forever will be, a mess.

_________

here we go with that stuff !! im pumped enough to not collapse of stage anxiety ah ah.

please do not confuse my complicated style for pretentiousness. im but a wordy insecure fool. with a super touchy soft spot for a small fat skeleton. and lots of imagination.

this isn’t something for fontcest and frans shippers and gross ppl who villainize and misgender kids and call gay couples “hawt sin” tho. u guys are uglies and i hate you, go away. ;U

_________

“Sans” i deadpanned.

He perked up a little, his forever-fucking-smiling expression mirroring my tone -with his eyes. Eyes’ sockets. Those were the only hints of what he was actually thinking. Because his fake smile -fake, i’m so sure of it, so fake smile, it only ever dropped when Frisk’s puppeted body struck him down, the very only moment he stopped- wow getting sidetracked. Anyway.

“Sans.” i repeated. i need to repeat myself a lot. Verbal dyspraxia i think. He didn’t seem to know that and squinted a bit more, indication of his annoyance/suspicion/mistrust/wariness. ‘s what his squinting usually means, directed at me. Can’t blame him. “i…” Truth is, i don’t actually know what to tell him. ‘s just. i love him, and i know it sounds crass and misplaced blurted out like this, but as a consequence, i’m worried about him. A lot. Constantly. i hope bpd isn’t blurring my judgement too much. ‘m not sure he does take care of himself as well as he deserve. And look who’s talking, right ? But he is surrounded by loving friends and family. And has his brother. He could get help. Good help.

Damn my hesitance was making him unnerved. I could see it in how he turned to me, bone hands switching in and out of his pockets. I only hugged myself tighter, hands vaguely gesturing.

“i… Could i offer you to crash on my couch sometimes ? Or bed even, i don’t use mine a lot, actually. Since it’s, y’know, closer to a good part of your odd jobs than your house and Papyrus isn’t home then ?” Dang that was weirder out loud. i kept a blank face to show i was serious. i was- the guy looked even more tired than me. Tells something.

“uh. kid, you got something going in the back of your mind ?” Damn he took me too seriously. Squinting hard at me now, he was the perfect studied statue of calm judgement. Damn he was good at those.

“Well, safe from letting you get a good deserved rest more easily, not much !!” i made sure to answer jovially, doing the whole ‘punching the air round and low in excitement’ thing. We could be two playing the happy clown game.

i had found him at Grillby’s, like usual. his food was getting cold. like usual too. what was less usual was the tense manner he held himself when i came in, and how he “straightened” up, like he had forgotten himself, when i greeted him, pat on the shoulder. he would have flinched but he wouldn’t have wanted me onto him about it. so his eye socket had violently twitched -violently as in, noticeably, by his standards, and...uh lost myself again, fuck.

What i mean is that he was having a harsh day, probably after a harsher even night, his ptsd acting up (‘m not supposed to know ‘bout that. He himself doesn’t even know it. i just read. and relate), and i wanted to help him. now, maybe i had been presumptuous thinking i could…

So that’s why i insisted, vigorously,

“And uh-we can watch some trash movies and stuff, anytime, and like you can just stop by during your in-between shifts, even if i’m not home, i’ll give you a spare key and-” sudden stop. oh no. He gave me The Hand.

He indeed did, holding it up, like he wanted me to slow down. i did, obviously, but uh. did that mean i was overwhelming him, or annoying ? Was there a difference ?? Did it matter ???

Not now, because he was talking, and internal anxiety mini attack made me split focus, and i wanted full focus on what he said, on him.

“look kid,” i hate he calls me that “i appreciate whatchu tryin to do here” meh.liar. spill it. “but i can’t accept. paps would be upset if he knew i was squatting-”

“No he wouldn’t !! He would call it ‘GREAT FRIENDLY HANGOUTS OF REST’ and be very happy we uuh spend time together and stuff-”

“ok” glaring at me now, probably pissed i used his bro’s good nature to shot down his excuse. Heh. Two play at that game. “but here’s the thing.” he advanced himself up to me, nearly out of his seat. i held my ground. uh oh. “we a r e n’t f r i e n d s.”

Ouch. i mean i knew this but. Ouch. His eyes hadn’t blacked out on that last part, but nearly, too. Could be that his already hazy eyelights had just dimmed in exasperation but um. That didn’t feel any better. i gulped. Just a little. Just to keep down the new forming clog in my throat. Just a little one. i knew this.

“i know this !! but look, we could be, if we hanged out !” i didn’t dare say more. My eyes stung a lil bit too much for my liking and while never embarrassed by my tears, didn’t want to embarrass him.

‘s not like i was seriously hurt. i knew where we stood, and that my crush was going to stay that, a crush. what really stung was the utter lack of trust and the hatred-like suspicion he had of me. that and also feeling like i’m watching someone drown, but can’t help, because when i reach out they swat me away in fear i would be the one pushing them further. That’s probably more of my saviour complex dramatizing everything, but it’s bad to be helpless when you know someone, and you’re the only one to notice where they’re headed, because they’re great at pretending, but it’s like looking at yourself in a mirror for you. Get me ?

But. That’s fair. We hadn’t started well off. At all. Oh boy we hadn’t…

___

Seems like now would be a good time to make a small recap, uh ? ‘bout how i ended up knowing that dude, falling in love, analysing his mental shit and all that jazz. Yeah.

me, some lame girl who won’t eat for days and forgo sleep just because, who doesn’t shave but my actual hair, doesn’t do makeup, who doesn’t smile when I’m told to and who grins for no apparent reason whenever a new daydream pops up, because i’m kind of stuck in my own head because it’s better in here. because of… trauma crap. i get by by drawing and playing games where i can just save everyone.

i don’t know if you get what i mean. i sorta hope you don’t. Because it hurts. But at the same time it’d be awesome if you did, because y a y let’s relate about crap !

Don’t know if it matters, too.

Could help to get a few friends. But being an asocial, asexual, kinda aromantic mess kinda throws that out of the window. You’d think so many A would get me higher in life eh heh heh heh heeeeeh… not funny. i’m not funny. My life is not funny. The way i react to it can be, though.

Like, that one time i was hanging out on my own, outside the bar i had first entered with classmates, as i tried to be less of a hermit, in a bar street and fled because i can't stand alcoholic jerks, and then saw this crowd of tough guys ejecting a small and stout person in a blue hoodie from said bar by fucking throwing a chair at them through the fucking window, and seeing that this little dude is a monster, and knowing they’re gonna get busted down to a puddle of dust by the mastodont looming over them if nobody intervenes ?

i reacted funny.

---

“Yoo-ou ffffffuking cunt, I-I’m gon’ mash you to the dirt yo motha shitted after getting fucked by yooour d-d-dog of a oold man-”

As he spits the words, an obviously very drunk dude stumbles closer and closer to the monster, his hands shaking like he wants to grip their head and smash it.

Freak it. This son of a bitch may be slurring like he drank the whole city, but he’s for sure all out to kill him ! Get up and run, little dude !

“c’mon man, “fucking cunt” , fun king or earl, it’s still a bit early to speak ‘bout mothers isn’t it?”

[i recognize him]

Pfft- what ? i snort loudly from my spot.

Okay, this is a gloriously bad, stretched pun -but now is not the time for goodness’ sake ! Run, dude, run -wait, is that a skeleton ?!

[i recognize him]

Oh my fuck, how dumb is that dude, going out in a popular bar at what-the-heck-hours in this stupid city ! There were shootings and assassination attempts on the monster gym leader not even two blocks away yesterday ! And you just go in there with a face that screams “LOOK AT ME” ?! Are you stupid or do you just lack of basic preservation instincts ?!

The brute keeps advancing, spouting shit, a sort of gang backing him up, toward mc comicbonedude, a guy i assume, given the voice, but with monsters you never know, gender’s a myth but not them- who’s still on the ground, backtracking, crawling with a grin it didn’t drop the whole time, is it stuck or something and doesn’t look like getting up holy crap he can’t get up, the more hatred a monster is confronted with the hardest it hits he must be low on hp or something he’s gonna get killed

[i recognize him]

mc comicbonedude cracks another joke or is it his ribs cracking under the viscious kick he just got he’s thrown nearer the spot i’m chilling in. Another kick. Nearer. They can't see me, i’m well hidden in the shadows. Another kick.

This time, mc comicbonedude gags out a pun about sole-ution to the problem being-

FUCK OFF!! a gun is being drawn out.

Screw this i’m not witnessing a murder, fucking racists fucking xenophobics fucking city full of fucking shitheads there are other people around here why isn’t anyone but i don’t want to die either that's how it is, eli, always strive for yourself.

i get up fast and sprint to the monster, screaming about cops and a monster attack and insults, anything to spark a bit of panic, deck a scrawny fucker the one who.was.going.to.shoot.him. and aim for the skeleton, who yells.

[i recognize him]

i grab him by the hood and run in some narrower streets, hearing yells after me, and the anxiety is building up a little too much for my usual adrenaline numbing spell to work-

i trip on some trash and my own feet -same difference, fall over, roll, get up that’s how you do it eli, hit and roll, but back on your feet. And keep running, holding the monster close to my chest he’s warm that means he’s still alive and ok, right, left, dodge the you whore you bitch get back here you bitch and the bullets yup i’m good at thiiiiiiis- a bullet still grazes my ankle, I stumble, nearly faceplant, and it hurts but like a sting and I’m still alive. The adrenaline keeps pumping and i feel so light, i sprint into a shabby alley, panting like a dog, i think i’m crying, and drool is mixing with it. i can feel the headache coming, and mc comicbonedude is heavy enough to slip in my arms why won’t he move ? Is he dead ? Is he in shock ?

[i recognize him]

i run to a staircase, you know, the rusty and slippery metal kind outside buildings for fire escape ? Exactly what i need, as the assholes keep firing at me, huh. I climb, to the top, jump to the next building am i really doing this as me for real and run. i don’t know if they’re still after us, my ears won’t stop ringing, and i can’t tell it apart from sirens. I’m on a four stories building running to save a skeleton who

who starts emitting blue and yellow light and what the hell is happening why am i floating holy fuck i’m two inches away to be totally out of not-looking-near-enough-at-all- concrete to fall on.

[i recognize him]

[*focus insufficient]

[*procedure fails]

He’s silent. Sprawled two meters away from where I’m hanging

h-how did i

Looking exhausted and furious, like a cornered dog who has already taken on a tiger in the past, and from his left pupil there’s a cyan blue and yellow flame ? crackling, or bubbling ? or is it just flashing. can’t tell eyes too blurry. and dark blue is surrounding me at my sternum is that monster magic it’s beautiful, did i get headshot i can’t thing straight no. i can’t breath. It’s holding me in place. i can’t breath properly. i try to call out for him, he’s just overreacting in an understandable alarm but

please don’t crunchy crush the goofy girl on the cracking hard ground but when I try, I look at his eyes. One is glowing a fiery but disturbed cyan and yellow, with shards of red here and there, and the other is blank dead. Black. i’m terrified. He pants and that’s the only sound for a while. He’s alive. Good. Am i going to still be alive after this ?

“DON’T DROP ME DON’T WANNA DIE DON’T KILL ME OKAY IT'S THE LAST TIME I’M HELPING OUT ANYONE I PROMISE I’M SORRY PLEASE DON’T KILL ME. DUDE PLEASE.”

“wha- ghh- !” He flinches like waking up. He lets go- lets go of meeee-

“AAAAAAAAAH NO !” He gasps and grasps again. i only slipped a meter into nothingness “Oh please please please i really don’t wanna die, and not falling, it looks like suicide i don’t do that i managed not to so don’t spoil it all ok i-”

“what- kid no stop r-”

“SO SORRY DON’T KILL ME DON’T-”

“ kiiiid please” he’s clutching at his skull now.

“PLEASE D-”

“shut. up”

Ok. Not talking.

Whimpering and sobbing a bit, but he better take this because i’m having an anxiety attack and it will escalate into a hyperventilation fit if he doesn't lower me on the ground and I can't calm down.

“Please don’t kill me.” blurts out anyway of my gritted teeth.

A white light bulb alights in his empty eyes socket, and the glow in the other dims. Could he not see me before ? Hey, is that a crack across his skull ? Augh that looks like it s t i n g s.

“ H-hey, there. You- ah, fffuck this hurts. You okay ?” i try.

Nothing. He stares at me, as if watching out for something. I can feel the power around me wavering. He needs to come to his senses before I go kiss the dirt.

“P-please don’t leave me hanging.” He snorts, but keeps scrutinizing me, shaking. ‘s like he’s half understanding the pun, half not there. Silent.

“Woah, that was bad, even for me; guess i’m just that high.” i attempt a feeble finger gun.

He holds back a laugh “pffft- what the hell, kid- oh fuck.” He starts, realizing what i’m hinting at. He drags me back to the ground. i still can't move, but breathing is easier. i whimper again -heck i’m surprised i didn't piss myself- and draw out a looong sigh.

Now we stare at each other awkwardly is not strong enough to cut it. And i observe, that i m may be sweaty, tired and teary, but he looks bad.

His skull is definitely cracked across his left eye, he won’t stop shaking, sweats profusely and seems to have troubles breathing so monsters skeletons breathe and pant. Ok. Do they cry too ? Cuz that weird red stuff oozing from his damaged eye doesn’t look like tears but that can’t be blood… right ?

He looks horrible, if only physically. But the way his eyes sway, with this grin I can’t find the reason for, it worries me more. Is he ... having an episode, or something ? i mean he could be and be totally inoffensive, but ? Was he the one attacking first back at the bar ? is he really having an episode of some sort ? i’m not too nice when i’m having an episode either.

Should i cry for help ? i can't budge from his grasp.

And i know i shouldn’t but i’m feeling an attack coming up- the restraint is triggering my ptsd ridden ass…..

Let me go y-you there c’mon i can’t take this not my shit nuh uh lemme go lemme go lemme go

“ lemme go…” woah not pathetic at all. “Let me go.” no reaction, try again “LET M-” i can’t move my mouth.

The pressure fucktupled, and it’s like my lungs and my muscles are being crushed.

“ok buddy, pal, chum, whoever you are, what the fuck ?”

i can’t answer you, you dumbfuck you just muted me

“i mean, nice save and all. thanks i guess. but who the heck and what on earth are you up to ?” both of his eyes went black oh my god what did i do to your highness Hecate like seriously now how did i end in such a mess.

“H-how about we both calm down first, and talk next ?” i seem to break through the mute. ok good, deep breaths, count backward from ninety to zero, relax, we’re both freaking out, he’s as spooked as you-which is funny cuz he’s the skeleton- focus on breathing.

Still no answer. “Look, i, i get it, bad freak out, i interrupted you back there, i get you’re fucked up-” nothing but his eyes narrowing “ but i’m cool. Swear i am. i’m cold and m’name is uidelsib. you can call me sib ! Cool enough ?”

i extend my hand, ready to give him a strong good ole handshake, but he doesn’t take up on it.

Instead he stays frozen, “Not cool, dude,” hand still extended, but lowered, as if he could grab me again “ r e a l l y not cool,” i insist, and his bones are, he’s. shaking ? Yeah. Shivering violently, like he’s super cold too, which is pretty normal given he’s what. Up with me on a high building, one, two hundred meters in the sky, exposed to the icy wind ? Figures.

His bones are making this clattering clickety sound, stresses me out damn. He’s studying me. But it’s also like he can’t focus. Shivering too much. Shock, probably. His eye socket’s still oozing that red shit. Not thick enough to be blood, and too scarletish, but what do i know ‘bout monsters.

[oh, what do i don’t]

He takes a step toward me.

“ not fucking cool, not in the least-” i let out, jaw still clenched.

His bones rattles one last time, on the cement ground. His knees buckled under him the next moment he moved. His arms couldn’t support him.

i approach him, concerned. Once the pursuit’s adrenaline and the near death experience done with, my mind is settling, and i can think more clearly. He, on the other hand…

He stirs as i come closer. Tries to growl something i can’t decipher, but it comes out as a whimper, pained. My heart constricts in my ribs. Fuck, i hadn’t meant shit to go down like that. i seem to have a talent to fuck up, but i only wanted to help.

i tell him that. He grunts, doesn’t acknowledges me further, and quivers as he tries to stand up. He can’t though. I see it from where i am, he shakes enough to make a dr.pepper bursts.

i snort at the image, a skeleton shaking a bottle fixed on his spine, then flies away with the pressure- w o w i’m gone far. Need a bed. Asap. Concentrate on the situation at hand.

He, though, doesn’t react well to my laughter. He immediately stiffens, and

goes slack. Unmoving on the ground. He fainted ? i go on a hunch and inch closer, on the tip of my toes, hunched over myself, because i can’t tell if he’s dead or if i’m going to be.

[i recogni-- --- [REDACTED]]

i shake my head furiously. i can’t let those thoughts take my attention away from what’s taking place here and now.

i’m close enough now. something like a meter away, i can see him still shivering, and hear him rasp some breaths out. So he can breathe-

[i knew tha- [REDACTED]]

Not Now. i need to focus, i got a seemingly dying monster mere steps away from me.

i crouch down, slowly. My leg muscles burn enough i’m trembling too and i’m pretty sure my teeth are chattering, the noise mingling with his bones against the asphalt.

He’s still face down, arms limp on his sides, and i spy his eyelights peeking at me, way less sharp than when he had me pinned in the air just. one minute ago ?

i creep closer, he tenses, i stop.

“You’re ok.” i whisper. “We’re ok and we’re leaving.” i try to keep my voice from wavering but meh. ‘s not like there’s much face to save, for both of us.

i reach my hand toward him. He doesn’t move. i put it on his back, barely pressing, he tenses. And then disappears with a ping.

[ (*did you think i was going to stay here and t--- -- -) [REDACTED]]

NOT NOW I SAID. GE E. WHERE DID HE Go ?

He’s back right where he was. He basically just blinked in and out of existence. And he’s looking even more exhausted, if that’s possible, sweating bullets and heaving noisily, before he quiets himself. He’s also glaring at me, but meekly, and i’m not too scared anymore to be honest. He looks more frustrated than anything, although i can guess he’s actually scared to death. HAH.

“Hey you’re ok, i said, i just. Need to get us somewhere safe. Yeah. Not here.” i croak out. i’m starting to feel the freezing wind more, too. i can’t afford to stall and give him time to think. i can still hear the sirens. They’re looking for someone. And i don’t want the police on my back, even if i didn’t do anything reprehensible in the end.

So i slide my hands under him, still making sure i don’t touch any possible sensitive areas, and decide to go for the armpits, and hey i might get a tickle out of him ! ...ahah no. As i try to heave him up on his… surprisingly tiny feet ? did he lose his shoes or. Whatever. He just stays as silent as he is limp. And boy is he limp as a rock. Not quite as heavy though, good.

“You’re lighter than you look-” might as well try to make some conversation “and uh, can you walk ?” Or at least i can try to fill the heavy silence. Let’s just forget the “tried to kill you” thing. We’re both in deep crap anyway, and i can understand having baggage.

He really won’t walk though. He barely makes a sound too. If i hadn’t heard him sooner i’d think he can’t talk or something. i barely get a grunt out of him as i put him on my hip, which isn’t hard given he’s like. Half my size. Fun sized boney menace.

And i begin to trudge down the stairs- not the ones i came from, i don’t want to get caught if the cops are back there and it’s too far anyways. i want a bed. Now. A lone pillow would do.

He doesn’t seem much different, dangling on my side barely sparing me a glare as i look down at him, checking if he’s not dusting yet. He stopped “bleeding” at least. He still got that nasty huge scar.

i can feel him staring when i’m not looking. He’s still wary. Probably only lets me pull this only because he can’t not. Heh, at least he doesn’t seem to mind that i’m carrying him like you’d do a toddler. i just, need my other arm to grip and grab at the staircase bars when i slip.

Nah he looks more disgusted to be touching me than anything. Everytimes we get into more contact, because i’m bumping a wall or stumbling on my own feet again, i can distinctly feel him shudder, and try to get away. It’s just a little distracting, and unbalancing, and a lil tidbit hurtful. But i can’t blame him. i’d be throwing a fucking fuss and dishing fists if our places switched.

At least it’s relatively calm. We didn’t meet anyone, maybe a few rats rummaging garbage, and some monsters hurrying home, Whimsuns i think ? No one that paid us any mind at least.

So we’re still walking slowly when rain hits us hard, and nearly sends me on my ass. Doesn’t help the shivering, but now it’ll clean the streets out for sure. It’s something past midnight, i don’t wanna find anyone out at this hour.

But i’d kinda appreciate finding my way to somewhere because

“Aaaaaaaaaaa a h ahhh i got no idea the fuck i’m g-going…” Ah fuck. i said that out loud. And now my passenger's giving me his best ‘are u fuckin kiddin me’ stare. He’s. Very unamused.

“L-look, this isn’t, this isn’t my part of the city, okay?? i’m- i’m tryin’ to g-get us to the monster neighbourhoods, but i don’t know the fuck where it is, alright ?!” My tone escalates with my pitch, and i nearly slip again as he flinches away from me. Damn it, not helping eli, still in an episode or something. Don’t yell.

“Y-y-yeeah okay, look. ‘m sorry i cried but i’m in shock and still lost, kay? S-so maybe help or som’thin’ ?” Indications would help yeah. And now he’s listening, he’s also less shaky and putting his weight on me in a way that hinders our progression less. Good.

He nods. Good.

“Good. Gooood good good good.” i’m on autopilot now, following the skeleton’s grunted directions. i take a few wrong turns every now and then, but what can you do with nonverbal advice, and we end up in a part of the city i recognize, because i’ve seen it on tv and wanted to come look around anyway.

The gym stadium. A big building, at least big for a monster building, given the prices get surprisingly higher when they’re buying, stylized like a Japanese dojo, with anime advertisement posters (whether for the dojo or the animes i got no ideas) on the walls and- oh my gosh are those- fish, dolphin, shark and starfish stickers on the windows.

“Perfect !” i half yell, significantly lighting up. Mc comicbonedude looks at me like i’ve grown a second head, and i give him a big manic smile, obviously stressed out. My right eye might be twitching a little too. Does that when i’m under pressure. He decides to go back to slumping against me and questioning his life choices, and i take that as an ‘okay GO’ to proceed with my genius only just made up plan.

i march up quickly, -i want this DONE WITH. NEXT TIME i GO ON AN IMPROMPTU RESCUE MISSION I’M TAKING MY LEAD UMBRELLA AND A CHANGE OF CLOTHING- to the tall doors, who thanks fucking gods are under a porch, that saves us from being drenched anymore, and pound it with all i got.

“OI BLUE WATER GAL ! OPEN UP!!! I KNOW YOU’RE STILL WORKING, YOU ALWAYS BRAG ABOUT NOT SLEEPING AND PROVIDING A 19/24H SERVICE ON TV!!! OPEN UUUPP!! B I T C H! OPEN!!UP!!”

Skeleton is googly eyeing me like the second head i’ve definitely grown started reciting the ten commandments to belzebuth themselves,

[and he’s not too far off]

but i don’t care my dude i am d o n e. If i get welcomed with a fist to the face i don’t give a diggly doogly dang fuck so long i can get inside and lay down. Even on the cold ass tile floor. i’m don-

“OI PUNK, WHAT’S UP WITH THAT RUCKUS ?? YOU TRYING TO PICK A DUEL WITH ME ? CUT IT OUT UNLESS YOU WANT A POUNDING COMPETITION FUFUFUFUFUFUH~ I’M OFFERING THOUGH !”

Ah, right, i’m still hitting that door. Ouch, that’s gonna swell. Oh welp.

But the voice came from...up?

i step backward some, under the rain, ugh, and look up to see, yup, a noodly armed blue fish person with bright scarlet red hair pulled up in a bun, all sweaty, a poor guy in a chokehold, peeking out of the second floor window, taking in the pouring rain with gusto. A gigantic lightning bolt, quickly followed by loud ass thunder, comes to compliment her boisterous apparition, and she grins- smirks? wide locking her single eye on me, the lighting making her golden teeth flash.

She comes down to greet my miserable form fast, not taking the stairs, but jumping out of the window (much more graciously than mc comicbonedude previously), having let go of her victim- sparring partner previously, good gods, and lands at my feet like nobody’s business, to then bolt up, eager to see the intruder to her night sessions.

And Undyne, former Captain of the Royal Guard of Monsterkind Underground, all steel like blue scales, glinting golden slitted eye and sharp mouth, now renowned Master of Fights in her stadium, among monsters and humans even more, already black belt of more martial arts than i know of, and fresh survivor of one of the biggest terrorist hits on monsters yet, is staring me down, from her easy two meters height, like i’m her next meal.

i gulp. i’m so fucked.

i’m so fucked and not just for the fact that i am royally gay and all, but also cuz…

[i recognize her]

[she was so hard to f---- [REDACTED]]

[couldn’t figure out that all we had to do was to run and then ---- -- ------- [REDACTED]]

“Uh ?” Her gaze has finally caught on my now bundled up passenger, who’s shivering in cold rather than fear, on my hip, who only lazily grins a

“sup”

“YO SANS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THIS WIMPY HUMAN AT THIS TIME OF THE NIGHT ?? AND Y’ALL ARE SOAKED !! GET INSIDE, NERDS !!!”

[i know him]

i follow hollowly the orders and get inside, feel a weight leave my side-kinda miss that already, to then feel a big fluffy towel drape over me. Then i sit down. In the hall on the ground, probably. Wooden floor is in my direct line vision. Uh. Thing is well taken care of, all waxed and clear, who would have guessed.

[i know them both. very well actually]

[Chara would be nervously giggling if they were here]

[wonder what they’re up to]

[and Frisk too, obviously]

[what about Flowey though. no idea what the lil shit is up to in pacifist endings]

i’m so f UCK E D.

---

Aaaand that’s how i ended up rocking back and forth in Undyne’s dojo’s main hall for half of the night, muttering about video games and fucking witchcraft gone wrong again and shit fuck damnit, i guess it was denial all along those last two, six months ? And oOH WELP, guess i did cradle like a toddler my fictional crush for the last, what, half hour ? Whoopsies.

Hhhhhhhh

fuck that ink witch status, that was not planned.

___

When i finish my flashback, and it’s been something like six months again since, got to “meet” his super cool great bro, not on his account though, Undyne just had to introduce Papsy to the dweeb that “saved his big brother” and also Asgore, Toriel, for a quick ‘thanks you’, even a small interview with Mettaton, that made a hit on the Undernet, and mingled a bit with monsters- i’m friend with Chesty Brun now (Burgerpants), and Alphys, because we’re following the same mangas-

he’s already gone, burger nearly untouched, ketchup covered fries half eaten and drink finished, and i’m tempted to ask Grillby, who is hovering close behind his bar, fretting a little, in front of my frozen form, if “you’re gon throw that out ? sure i can’t finish ?” Because it’d be a real shame to let all that delicious grub go to waste. But that’d be creepy as fuck, even moreso taking my feelings for the small dude, and his against me, so i don’t, and he’ll probably feed it to his pet lava rock anyway, so i stop hugging myself and rocking back and forth and go back to my seat, waving him off with a sorry smile, and go back to sullenly sipping my vanilla milkshake.

Can’t blame Sans.

He’s cautious. Understandable.

i know what he’s had to put up with.

[and so do all of you]

[dirty brother killers ?]

[i hope not]

[i really wonder how’s Chara doing…]

AAAAAAAaaaaaaah how do i turn this shit off ?? Let me pretend i’m normal in a normal situation stupid brain thing !!

...ah. screw it. this magic milkshake is fabulous. That’s totally what i’m crying about.

“Don’t worry Grillby.”

_______________

ye don’t worry my dudes. can i call y’all that ? ‘s gender neutral. ‘m a demi girl, and you can call me “my dude”, my dudes. wow what a bull of crap i pulled here, sorry trans girls and enbies

this isn’t beta read cuz i’m on my own and english isn’t my native language, i’m french, so plz forgive mistakes.

i had some drafts lying around my google docs for a year now, mostly about bugging and kissing snas, put them together and thought i’d do an actual Thing with it all. this isn’t good, i know it.

lest to say i have no idea what i’m doing !

and don’t know when this’ll update, it it does. i had the motivation to finish this cuz there was no clients at the restaurant i worked at back in july. blah blah blebs blah.

#/witchcraft #/unsanitary #/c slur #/physical assault #/alcohol #/hate crime #/racism #/panic attack #Know & Determinate: II- the surface and a lame witch #uidelsibwrites #old art

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