Reapertale Sansgoriel, where Toriel returns and Asgore apologizes for what he did in the past and says that he's happy for both Toriel and Sans. Sans and Toriel looks at each other and then at Asgore and kiss him! 💖✨🌟
Perhaps the walk was a little overkill, after all, when one lives on a mountain you would think they’d find a faster way up. But no, Asgore enjoyed the climb, and was incredibly careful with the fresh blooms he was determined to bring a bit more, life, to his mountaintop with. It’s only when he reaches the peak does he hear a voice he had waited for for what seemed, and probably was, centuries.
The flowers, roots still in a chunk of topsoil, drop to the ground with a hearty thump. Asriel, his sweet Asriel, with eyes beaming, seems to leap to him. He holds his son close, tears already beginning to stream down his face. He feels another child cling to his leg, and then he is met with the sight of Chara, adorned in robes more pure than the first snow of the year.
In front of him stand Life and Death. Along with a little one standing between them.
Toriel, another voice he hadn’t heard in far too long called out to the children.
“Asriel, I must speak with your father, will you and Chara mind Frisk for me.”
Asriel seems to drop down quickly to take Frisk’s hand and guide them around his old home, Chara trailing along, pretending not to be interested in the godly realm.
Somehow it is all too ironic, life and death seemed to work perfectly. He never would have predicted.
Toriel approaches first, posture stiff and gaze firm.
“It has been quite a long time Asgore.”
He doesn’t know when he starts the string of apologies that have been burning the tip of his tongue for so long. He’s babbling about what he should’ve done, how he could have spared his children such a bitter fate, how he should have done anything to keep them from all the pain.
Somewhere he’s swept into soft arms with a quiet hushing, and he doesn’t know if it’s tears of pent up anguish, relief, or both that start streaming down his face.
A bony hand, nearly burning cold, wipes away some of his eye-blurring teardrops.
“we’ve got you got you gorey, it’s alright now.”
Asgore frees his right hand from Toriel’s hold, pulling Death into the embrace. Soon one could no longer tell how long they remained like that, weeping in the solace of each other’s arms.
“You know,” it’s Toriel’s voice that breaks through the trance, “We should probably tend to those flowers.”
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ellievsbear
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