the first hug i ever received. he was shorter than me? we were kneeling-sitting
put his head on my chest, ear on my collarbone. i joked "yes you can definitely hear my heart through my clavicle" and he got mad and headbutted me in the chin and his baby horns left a bruise
dream-knowledge that i had to explain that away to the king and queen and asriel kept looking so guilty i could't help but laugh to myself
pulling down a tapestry? curtain? something off the walls and whirling it around my shoulders. like a cloak. a cape. something
asriel said i looked "suitably dramatic"
the monsters who were. not quite right? developmentally delayed. mentally damaged. asriel and i weren't allowed to play with them because we were royalty
always always books. reading as much as i could. read everything
in turns frustrated and laughing because monsters didn't write serious books like i had stolen on the surface but wwere silly and playful all the time and i didin't understand how people could always feel so good
a box on the table. full of sand. dust? monster dust?
"this is where he should go. please send him there."
in hindsight non-dream-vision was definitely monster dust and the familly of the deceased was asking the royal family for help
but i played in his corpse
i scattered dust over my hands and arms and belly and face, fascinated by the texture and how it clings
saw the look in toriel's eyes
"maybe humans and monsters cant truly live together if a human child does something as horrible as this
there is something wrong with them"
and i saw the chance to get back at everyone who ever hurt me
asriel and i were so strong together
but he said no and i couldn't move and i couldn't breathe and i was dying again except this time it was for no reason and i could feel blood in my fur (not my fur) but my claws were spotless (not my claws)
then i was dead and he was dead and i was so angry
"kill them. it's better that way."
"kill them. it's faster."
"kill them. they deserve it."
"kill them. it makes you feel good."
"kill them. kill them kill them kill them."
until it was me holding the weapon
the glove? remember punching and clawing and tearing
there was some place that was built like. childishly
like those wooden model train tracks
we tore down the support pillars and trapped everyone trying to escape from snowdin to new home
i punched her until she passed out and then stood on her throat until she collapsed into dust
flowey was always following. no more than two steps behind, out of respect
we talked, dust on my face and hands and shoes, dust in his petals
"that one always runs. good job catching him so quick!"
"fun fact? the fish in the bar will stay there until you kill chilldrake. they're friends, you see"
"her little brother? actually older than you and me. or, at least, older than we were when we died. i'm not sure it counts, now!"
i don't remember the dogs
maybe that was frisk more than me
it was so early after all
or maybe just not part of this dream
the sound of water trickling along. to the right of me
maybe i always had the hearing thing even in that life, where my right ear is stronger
the petal bridges weren't "solved" when we came through
i just went through the water
i distinctly remember the texture of blood and dust on the water's surfaace as it was washed away a little
i think i'll always remember it
she was so angry i could feel it from her
and i was going to kick her to death
i spend so much time justifying it to myself and to you that it was all because "i wanted to help them that's why i killed them" but no. that wasn't it, or that wasn't all of it
i killed them because i wanted to
we died and reset and died ad reset and died and reset
"you're pretty bad at this, aren'tcha? ;P"
the taste of cinnamon bunnies
pulling the snowman to bits
never bothered with sea tea or the glasses or the notebook
we didn't have I-frames, after all
and there was nothing stopping me from standing outside gerson's shop and waiting until he left the counter
maybe he was patient and old and slow but
i was determined after all
that split second of "real world" gore before a monster dies
cracking gerson's shell open, seeing his ribs and heart and lungs and then poof! all dust
didn't even kill him for his inventory
i killed him just because i could
asriel's face on flowey's body, at the end
the heft of a metal knife in my hand
frisk is gone, less than a whisper
sans is dead. i'm dead a thousand times over.
it's only fitting that asriel dies here too, for good this time
but flowey wasn't a monster, not truly
he didn't turn to dust on a "mortal" wound
so i had to keep cutting and keep cutting and keep cutting and he was screaming and it was getting all distorted and horrible and i just had to keep cutting
and then it was quiet everywhere
and i turned around and went back the way i came, flicking xylem off my knife because there were still monsters to be killed out there
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