An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
A hand was on his throat... Two more pinned him to his office wall in a way that caused his spine to hurt. Pairs of disembodied magic that felt like this monsters way of humoring themself whilst mimicking his own magic.
At least... That was the rational thought...
“Doctor… Doctor Gaster… you don’t w... write like an Aster…” They went on… She went on. Not that their knowledge of his name (though that latter bit did surge a whole other string of concerns) was surprising. They had broken into the lab , and it wasn’t like his name wasn’t completely unknown. A hard task to accomplish when you earn the title of royal scientist.
“That…is my name… Though… I presumed you knew that before you broke into my office” The way those dark eyes bared onto him, his nonexistent throat clinched to brace for a less than pleased rebuttal from her but… That smile just turned crooked as she shook her head and let out an amused breath.
“B…broke in… now that’s f…funny… I thought it was a running theme for gasters to be too smart f…for their own g…good” That smile spread a little wider, taking away any rationality left as gleams of metal shined in that poor lamplight.
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Short snippet of a series in work
