#practically no one complains about asgore's rule

[stainedglassthreads]

I really dislike Chara as a scheming mastermind who MEANT to poison Asgore and ALWAYS intended to get a boss monster soul and have their revenge for a number of reasons that I’ve seen discussed by other people, and have occasionally discussed myself, but there’s one reason that I haven’t seen talked about as often that I’ve been thinking about lately. 

That being, in order for Chara to have had these kinds of intentions all along, Toriel and Asgore would have to be... less than fully competent leaders, shall we say. And I hate how this interpretation of Chara makes these nuanced and interesting characters into flat and naive fools in order to prop up a this kid as a competent evil mastermind. 

Elaborations below cut. 

It’s widely known and accepted that Chara was the first fallen child. THE first human to fall. Meaning that before Chara, the last interaction monsters would have had with humanity is... that’s right. The war between humans and monsters. The one where, according to monsters’ own recollection, humans slaughtered them in a short timeframe without taking any casualties at all, and then sealed them Underground to rot indefinitely. 

Toriel and Asgore are the king and queen of monsterkind. They have a duty not only to cheer up their people, but also to lead and guide them, to safeguard and defend them. They are not just glorified mascots, we see a number of Asgore’s past efforts towards breaking the barrier-- not just in collecting human souls personally, but also forming the Royal Guard and training Undyne, and in commanding Alphys to research souls. We also see him more involved with his people on a smaller-scale level, giving speeches in Monster Kid’s school. Monsters have schools at all, something Toriel personally may have been invested and involved in, as she says she has always wanted to be a teacher. 

So we know that Asgore is a fairly active and beloved leader, and we know Toriel was renowned for being ‘the brains behind the throne’, meaning she was perhaps an even more competent leader than Asgore, if not quite as beloved. We know that Asgore also cares deeply for the happiness and safety of his people, with how much he sacrifices and torments himself in pursuing the war with humanity. But perhaps they just had no fucking idea that humans are so dangerous until now! After all, it’s only wildly popular fanon that Asgore and Toriel lived through the war, some Winter Alarm Clock Dialogue implies Asgore may have not been old enough to fight in the war at all! A good guess... if not for how the Waterfall Plaques are RIGHT FUCKING THERE IN THE UNDERGROUND WITH THE MONSTERS, DETAILING THE HISTORY OF THE HUMAN-MONSTER WAR IN ALL ITS BLOODY GLORY.

Not to mention, these plaques also speculate the reason WHY the war could have begun-- the power of soul absorption. These plaques are hung on the wall of Waterfall, where any passerby could easily see them. So it’s not like what happens when you absorb a human soul was Secret Knowledge only Chara could have known-- all of monsterkind is at least generally aware soul absorption Exists, and a smart monster could probably extrapolate if Human Souls give monsters a boost, a human absorbing Monster Souls and gaining some power isn’t IMpossible. 

So, Asgore is deeply concerned with the happiness and safety of his people. Toriel is a competent and intelligent leader. The records of their history exist in the Underground with them. The most recent memory monsters have of humans is a one-sided slaughter followed by indefinite imprisonment. All of this points to monsters being extremely wary and fearful of humans. Especially since, we see from Frisk’s fall monsters are absolutely CAPABLE of emotions like fear, anger, outrage, and attacking innocents. I imagine there must have been a period of time, however short, where Chara was under intense scrutiny from the monsters. And even if Asgore and Toriel were dangerously neglectful and uncaring of their subjects, they have even more personal stakes in the whole affair by personally caring for Chara. 

They have a son who isn’t as strong as them, and is just as softhearted as his father without having seen the human-monster war. 

A son who they express excitement for the birth of, to the point Toriel wakes Asgore up in the middle of the night to tell him motherhood puns. They don’t just see him as an heir, they’re boss monsters who, without kids, do not age. They have no need for an heir to succeed them in the same way humans do. They had this child because they wanted a kid, they wanted one bad enough they were okay with aging and dying and leaving the throne in someone else’s hands. To be so neglectful and uncaring of this precious child that they’d accept a human into their hope and not notice changes in Asriel’s behavior... immensely bothers me and seems kind of out of character, between how much their care for their subjects, how competent Toriel was supposed to be, and how much they must have cared for ASRIEL. Considering how fragile monsters are, they must have at least been concerned Chara might roughhouse a little too hard with Asriel, who has never had a sibling before. 

Even when Chara poisons Asgore, and they KNOW it was the kids who did it because Asriel says ‘Mom got mad’-- why the hell would she be mad over some random illness??-- they still assume the best from Chara. (And this is using personal experience a little-- but I personally had no idea buttercups were poisonous until I was about seventeen. Asriel also had no idea, and even if you disbelieve NarraChara, Chara lives with Toriel, who LOVES wordplay. Even if it’s ambiguous, I still think it extremely plausible they also had no idea.) 

So, they still have all the reason in the world to assume the world of humanity, and this child HAS, intentionally or not, managed to harm a major political figure beloved by all his subjects. The monsters still don’t turn on Chara. Quite the opposite-- Chara brings them HOPE. 

I don’t think Chara was a saint, Asriel said they weren’t the best person for a reason. But I genuinely don’t think they meant to hurt the monsters or Dreemurrs. They had a way to hurt Asgore, they had Asriel idolizing them-- if they only came to the Underground seeking power and power alone, and if Toriel and Asgore truly were so ignorant of their faults, wouldn’t it be ridiculously easy to kill Asriel and take him soul? Hell, wouldn’t it be easy to stab Asgore in the heart while he’s weak from poison, take his soul, and then kill everyone who tries to kill or imprison them? 

But they don’t. 

They choose a slow and painful method of killing themself. And even afterwards... 

Asgore talks about the Hope in Chara’s eyes, on a run where Frisk doesn’t kill anyone, and compares them to Frisk. Toriel keeps adopting and trying to protect fallen humans. 

Even after Chara poisoned their father, even after humans killed their son... The words and actions of the Dreemurrs still show they think fondly of Chara. Even the monsters who eagerly try to kill Frisk and talk about how hyped they are for the imminent destruction of humanity seem to fondly remember Chara. Even Alphys, who has the tapes about Chara’s plan in the True Lab, doesn’t go ‘wow, Chara was a gross human being, maybe humanity’s kinda shitty actually, maybe everyone should know what a gross person their beloved former royal was’ 

She says Asgore maybe shouldn’t see those tapes, probably because he’s a grieving father who she doesn’t want to hurt more, but is still a massive fan of humans, and wants to set herself up as Frisk’s helpful friend and ally. 

Monsters had every reason to hate, fear, and shun Chara. And we know from the No Mercy run it’s very easy to accumulate LV and decimate the monster population, even going so far as to oneshot both Toriel and Asgore. Monsters who survived the war, like Gerson, must have been fully aware of things like this, and as Chara was the FIRST fallen human, perhaps more monsters who survived the war were alive back them. But for all their faults, Chara is only remembered fondly, by everyone who knew them. Or at the very least, those who personally remember them remember them not as a saint or a demon, or even as a ‘human’, but as a kid who shouldn’t have died. I still think that speaks volumes, and does a disservice to Asgore and Toriel’s characters to have them duped so thoroughly by, well... a kid. 

[argentdandelion]

Memories of the Surface Chapter 1: One Punch Between Friends

Gerson looks back on his long life, his memories of the Surface, and all the friendships and trauma made under a world lit by the sun.

It was a lovely late summer day: warm, sunny, and cloudless. A quiet, peaceful day...were it not for the laughter and bustling and scuffling of the children playing in the little garden of the town.

Within the town, between the homes of humans and monsters, lay a small woodland. Children gathered to talk and eat at its long, wooden benches. They also played games together: hopscotch, jump rope, catch, and marbles, and things they had simply made up.

“Lettuce and radish sandwich again?” Gerson muttered. He shook his head. I’m going to tell her to stop packing those.

Suddenly, the background of jump rope rhymes stopped. “Hey! No cheating!” Gerson glanced at the shout: a Whimsun hovered in place between the oscillating ropes. “You gotta jump! You can’t just fly!”

Gerson laughed.  Poor little Whimsun, already looking at the verge of tears from something so small.

A fresh memory came unbidden...

“Be kind. Never give them a reason to hate you, and you'll be safe.”

"What if they hit me, but don't hate me? Wouldn't that hurt too?"

"We are the safest of all monsters. Always remember that, dear."

“Hey, Gerson! Watch this!”

The bunny monster prepared a spiky bubble of magic, aimed at a carefully-placed chunk of moldering firewood...and blasted it to smithereens.

"Wow! That's such cool magic!" Abelai gushed.  Cool, yes. But not very practical to use so much magic... Gerson thought.

"I think, when you’re a grown-up, you could blast the enemies to smithereens!" the human girl said, leaning in with her enthusiasm.

“I...uh...enemies are just friends you haven't made yet!" the bunny monster said sheepishly. Abelai’s donkey-like wheeze drowned out Gerson’s own chuckle.

“You're so friendly. I guess you wouldn't be fit for the army, even if you are strong.”

"Really? You've never seen a nice solider before?” the bunny asked.

Abelai’s mouth rumpled. “It's not a matter of 'niceness'. It's a matter of bravery and duty.”

“And having enemies to fight! Haha!” Gerson said, butting in.

“Y-yeah. Not r-really a point, ‘cause everything’s peaceful.” the bunny replied, nervously tapping his hands together.

Abelai paused, a hand to her chin in a comical imitation of an old scholar. In that break in the conversation, Gerson could faintly hear the discussion at the other table. It sounded like two boys muttering, with one exclaiming “beat all the bad guys!”

"Are...monsters even allowed in the army?” Abelai asked. “I've never seen monsters in the parades or around the barracks."

Gerson and the bunny were quiet. After the pause, Abelai continued. "It doesn't make any sense. I mean, they let mages in, so why not monsters?"

She doesn't know...she really doesn't know why monsters aren't in the army.

The two boys at the other table were talking louder. Gerson couldn’t make it out, but it was something about “dad” and “bad guys”. Ugh, I’m trying to have a conversation .

“Do you know, Gerson?”

Gerson turned suddenly to Abelai, as if nothing was wrong. Some boy had just said “Watch this!”.

"It's probably 'cause monsters would put the mages out of a job! Hahaha!” Gerson said, laughing.

He heard a hiss by his side. A boy, a human boy, was standing beside him. In an instant, Gerson scanned him over: he had messy black hair, a stern frown and wide eyes that crinkled around the edges. His hands hung limply by his sides, clenched into fists. He’s just...pretending to be angry?

The boy’s mouth opened and closed, fish-like. Gerson tilted his head. "What are you doing? Looking for someone to punch?"

Thwack.

In an instant, half his vision went dark as he was knocked back onto his shell. Suddenly, he heard scuffling footsteps. Someone was running away.

Gerson dug his claws into the table and straightened up. He put a hand to his right eye, an eye that felt hot and swollen. Blinking away tears, he looked back at his assailant through his untouched eye.

The black-haired boy...he was still there, his uncoiling hand frozen in the air. His face sported a wide-eyed look, his slightly open mouth showing fang-like teeth. The boy’s brow twitched as Gerson stared him down.

He looked...startled?

Surprised I didn't run away? Or are you surprised I didn't die in one hit?

The boy frowned again, harder, and once more clenched his fist.

Gerson’s hands slid slowly down, as he casually laid them on the bench seating. His tears streamed down his face...and he laughed.

"Wa ha ha! What's one punch between friends?"

The pain radiated through his face again, pulsing, thudding.

The pain radiated through his chest, and the boy hissed as his fist hit the hard plastron.

A hit. A hit. Another hit...

"We are the safest of all monsters...never give them a reason to hate you."

His mother had looked all strange then, with big eyes and a crooked smile.

Why? Why?

Gerson heard a yelp. The seconds passed, and no punches landed again.

Gerson covered his right eye with a hand and wiped away his tears. There were two human women in front of him, one gripping his attacker’s shoulders with a look of disdain. One of them looks familiar...is it Abelai’s mother?

His attacker looked at his fists to find them covered in a red crust. The park was silent, the children still stunned.

"Why did you do this?" One of the women said in a voice both soft and sharp. The boy still stared at his fists. A faint smoke drifted away from them in the summer breeze, as they rapidly turned purple from bruises. Suddenly his eyes went watery...and he laughed.

Gerson stood aback – the laughter was mirthless. Empty.  But it’s not funny.

Gerson watched one of the women briskly take the fang-toothed boy away. They passed by another table, where a brown-haired human boy looked at the goaded attacker with a flattened, unreadable expression.

"Will you be alright?" The other woman was bending over to investigate his injuries. Gerson’s face felt wet and hot...he touched his cheek, and his hand came back bloody.

But he could only chuckle. Why? Why didn’t I die from all those hits? Why did he laugh? Why...why does it feel like a joke?

The woman looked startled for a second. She chewed over her lip, still looking at him in concern. Wrong answer. She stroked Gerson’s hair, hesitating, uncertain even after her touch, and checked over the blood smeared over the turtle monster’s shirt.

“If it wasn’t for your shell...” the woman started. Then she smiled. It was fake and didn’t reach her eyes. “Well, it's a good thing you're a turtle! Now, I'm not sure how to deal with this kind of injury, so just show me where your mother is and I'll..."

She’s not panicking...it’s like it’s just a scraped knee...Gerson thought as the woman carefully moved towards the monster district.

She doesn't know. She really doesn't know...how easy it is to kill monsters.

-----

Today was...interesting. Some kid had shown up in his shop, and had asked him obvious questions anyone would know while using a silly voice and wearing a funny hat. What was it? Some disguise? Wa ha ha. Can’t fool me, kid.

There were a lot of cloudy-looking glasses in the dump: seemingly endless piles in wet, moldering cardboard. Was it a fad these days? Gerson wondered.

With his resupply trip done early, he decided to go back home. I’ll take the scenic route. Why not? He travelled through a dark path lit with blue crystals. It was less well-trod, but one he knew well nonetheless. It was hard not to memorize it, darkness notwithstanding, with a life so long as his. His bones complained from the journey...but quietly. So quietly, after more than a thousand years...

"There is another way..." Asgore’s deep, soothing voice emanated from a side passage.

Gerson startled. In a moment, he reoriented towards the sound.

"You will not have to..."

Asgore’s voice echoed strangely within the cave walls, repeated by scraggly clusters of echo flowers. Gerson sped up. Someone was talking back...a quieter voice, one he couldn’t identify, much less make out.

“Do not be afraid, human.” Human.

Closer...

Gerson skidded to a stop and looked to his left. Two figures. Asgore, hunched over someone. That someone...a human, their back to the entrance. They held their notebook like a weapon as their SOUL glowed purple.

Suddenly, Asgore’s trident flailed out, glowing red. He twisted it in his hands, pointing at...

Thunk.

A body fell to the soft mud.

In the threshold of the room, Gerson stared back at a face full of shock. Asgore’s trident faded away.

"Gerson!"

Glowing water and a crack in the ceiling gently illuminated them all in the marshy alcove. The stream behind them quietly burbled. Masses of Echo Flowers surrounded the two, their whispers a faint buzz. The kid’s voice still carried on those flowers....

Guilt dragged the old monster’s face down. The pause stretched on too long.

"This won't work, Fluffybuns." Gerson said sternly. The king’s face fell even more. "You ain't in a good state to think it over, what with your...tendencies." Asgore turned his face away. Never had the crown seemed heavier.

Gerson moved closer to his old friend. "If you can't do it for yourself, do it for your kingdom...” Asgore’s mouth moved, preparing for an answer. “...And you know that kid sure can't rule in your place. The kingdom needs you."

The small body had stopped twitching, and the breathing was going unsteady.

"You better bring out the container."

"I...it is not in my inventory."

Gerson rolled his eyes. "I got one at my house, for emergencies. I'll watch over..." Another pause, another absence both refused to acknowledge. "And don't dilly-dally, Fluffybuns."

Gerson picked up his old war hammer from its place in the target’s head. It had left quite the dent: the hit site was oozing. He couldn’t help but inspect what was left behind from his deeds , lit so conspicuously by that long-awaited fourth SOUL.

Stripes . Stripes, he knew...but didn’t want to know. And in the right light, he couldn't. In the right light, he could imagine all those purple bands were just black, black to blend in with the rest of the outfit. He could imagine that liquid dripping from the...from the kid’s head was purple. Just something strange he had never seen before, something gently beyond his comprehension. He couldn’t see, didn’t need to see the true extent of the injuries.

But the kid...the kid was still breathing. Faintly, ever faintly, but even after that...even after that strike...

“So. What were you doing here?” Gerson muttered. Why did I even ask? Does it matter?

The notebook, clutched so desperately in the kid’s arms, slid down to the mud. Gerson picked it up, almost by reflex. He squinted at it in the SOUL’s purple glow. He considered bringing out a glowing attack, to boost the light, but...

Can’t risk it. An attack straight to the SOUL like this would waste decades of waiting. Yes. Yes, that was his logic.

He squinted over the notebook. Its pages were filled with childish drawings of monsters, crude but recognizable. An Aaron. A Temmie.

And him.

Something ran through his mind...a faint sound, a whisper, an echo. He tried to focus. If he made room for anything else, he’d...

In the neat little script, he saw facts: “Temmie: What are Tem Flakes? Is Human Allergy Useful?” “Aaron: Loves to flex...Must learn how to flex better.” That echo came back...

“Are you sure?” “I don’t want to kill anyone.”

"Gerson: Turtle?". "Didn't try to attack. Doesn't hate humans. Useful ally? Backup plan? Looks like Spike. Good omen?"

A child’s voice seeped into his thoughts. Gerson stroked his chin thoughtfully, and turned the kid around. He could see his frown in the reflection of the kid’s huge glasses, superimposed onto the kid’s own eyes. The kid had short, messy black hair, pale skin...they looked like someone he knew, once upon a time, when even he, ol' Gerson, was young.

"Wa ha ha..." He couldn't stop it. The body had stopped moving.

Gerson stared at the page, that crisp handwriting of the human they’d never bothered, never never wanted, to know.  If I had just fought back that day...would things have gone differently? Would the war have started even sooner? Would I have met ol’ Fluffybuns and Harrold?

Would I...have lived?

Doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

But for the colors, the kid looked nothing like that angry boy from long ago.  Why did I even think to compare them?

He looked in the notebook again.

Spike...sounds like a pet’s name...

The kid had a pet turtle.

“Wa ha ha...” The laugh escaped from his lips before he could stop himself. And with the dam breached...it flooded.

“Wa ha ha! Wa ha ha !” His head lifted, his jaws dropped. And as he knelt on the mud, his thin, bitter laugh overflowed throughout the alcove. It rose and rose, drowning out the babbling stream, drowning out anything else. The Echo Flowers discarded that nameless voice to multiply his own, and the endlessly-copied laughter surrounded him... them, the corpse and the old turtle.

In the end....it was two objects. Among many other objects. Nothing meaningful. And this object...this object...

Gerson. That’s my name. ‘The Hammer of Justice’. He felt like the laughter had carved out his throat like a river through soft mud, leaving it clogged and sore. A sense of shame dripped over the emptiness of his psyche like rain...but no tears fell.

Asgore ducked under the threshold, a soul container in hand.

“Ah, Asgore,” Gerson spoke. “You can handle this. I need to get myself a nice cup of Sea Tea."

Then he strode past the king, past the room, past the burden, without a second glance.

[stripestheboar]

Why Him?

@bublp0pr, my boy. My beautiful bouncing baby boy. You are an absolute saint for being as patient as you are. Thank you for sticking around through all my shit. Hopefully you enjoy this. 

It took a bit of planning, but it’s finally finished. The ultimate crackship. My boy..... enjoy. 

Word Count: 4,257

Summary: Flowey finally discovers someone who can make him feel something for the first time since his creation. However, it may not be all that he was hoping for.

Flowey considered himself a being higher than all others. With his gift to turn back the clock, he didn’t see a reason why he wasn’t. After all, he was practically immortal, wasn’t he? Why should he be considered as low as them if there was no way to truly be defeated.

Okay, well, there was Sans, but we’re just going to pretend he doesn’t exist at the moment.

Undyne, is another, but for now, she’s non-existent as well.

Oh yeah, and Frisk, but we can just throw them into the non-existent pile, too.

Also Asgore, but that’s only because- okay, we’re getting off track here. All that you need to know is that Flowey is a hard ass.

Anyways, Flowey was the self-declared most powerful monster in the Underground, and all due to his lack of an actual soul, thus leading to a lack of compassion for most of the monsters in the Underground. Even when Frisk brought him up aboveground, he still found himself lacking any real joy or excitement for the time. His pessimism had him convinced that any minute Frisk would decide to go back on their word and screw the entire world over with another reset. Any semblance of joy that he felt was short, shallow, and almost artificial, just like every other “emotion” that happened to slip past. Even when it was becoming increasingly apparent that he wasn’t going to change his ways anytime soon, everyone was still so adamant over sticking by his side no matter what. It was frustrating, really, just to see all these monsters with better lives and more potential waste their time on him. It almost made him physically ill just to experience it. Even Sans refused to give up on him, and he had practically given up on himself already. But just because Flowey was annoyed with it didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it. He had promised to stop his torment of others, after all, and when Frisk was involved, he just didn’t seem to have the will to break it. He just wanted to see how everything would play out. Yeah, that’s why. The only one he knew would truly understand what should be done in these types of hopeless situations was Chara, but she couldn’t exactly speak as of now.

However, like with most rules or laws of the universe, there is somehow an exception to everything. It took nearly a year after the Pacifist End to get to that exception, but it eventually came. No resets had come, and now he was faced with a factor he hadn’t expected to see ever in his lifetime.

When Flowey had first seen him in the Underground all that time ago, there had only been a passing glance. No torture had really been involved, as usual, as this monster in particular was a naturally passive, but had the negative trait of being rather… unbearable. Despite that, after each and every time he loaded a save file, he could feel something begin to bloom inside him. He couldn’t describe it, as he just didn’t know what it was. But, with time, he soon discovered that this feeling was much unlike the spite and malice he held towards most, but instead like the feeling he had whenever he had been around Chara, the only person he had really felt a connection to. And yet, there he was, unable to help the sense of a true bond forming between himself and this… thing. He hated him with every fiber of his small being, and yet this monster was somehow able to make his soulless being melt at a simple glance and smile in everything he did. It infuriated him to no end to not know why he held such an attraction to this monster. He hated everything about him, but at the same time wanted everything to do with him. This monster was like no other. He made Flowey feel a happiness or joy he hadn’t fathomed in years. He made him feel a sort of compassion; it was love, even. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt love for this crude monster. He was the one that could bring Flowey into happiness, and yet they didn’t even know each other. He was short, a bit on the wider side, and did nothing but laze around and complain. He was perfect. He was amazing. He was everything Flowey needed to feel complete. He was his soulmate.

He was Jerry.

Now, Flowey knew just how repulsive this urchin was; almost no one could bear to stand him. However, he found himself unable to bear his attraction as time went on, the feeling of spiritual need for this monster in order to make him feel something was undeniable. And so, it was decided: one simple meet up couldn’t hurt, right? After all, Jerry must’ve been a lonely monster. He should be bowing and kissing his roots for even allowing him to spend time with him.

Guilt struck Flowey at that moment, one of the biggest downsides to this whole ordeal. Even thinking bad of this monster made him regret ever thinking of it in the first place. It was torturous, really, but he was convinced that a simple date with Jerry would cause those wretched emotions to subside some.

And who knew? Maybe it would all be worth it in the end.

Fourteen months to the day of their ascent up to the surface, Flowey finally decided that it was either do it or live a life craving love and affection he could never get. He had found Jerry at an internet café, idly clicking things on the computer while occasionally glancing down at his phone with a bored look. He didn’t even seem to notice when a small flower broke through the floorboards next to him and cleared his voice.  

“Howdy, Jerry,” Flowey began, catching the monster’s attention. The slightly bigger monster turned in his chair, breathing heavily as he looked down at the flower. “You may not know me… you may not even bother to care who I am. But, I know you.” He looked down at the ground, taking in a large breath. “I’ve been watching you, as creepy as that may sound. And I, well…. I have this strange feeling for you. A feeling that I can’t tell just really what it is or what it means, but it makes me feel… complete, you know? It may be hard for you to understand, but I just chance, you know? So… I can’t believe I’m saying this but, will you go on a date with me?”  

He closed his eyes, the fear of rejection rising up within him. Actual, genuine fear rushed through his stem and his roots, not wanting to be denied the chance to be happy again. The feeling was almost euphoric, really, but he didn’t know what he would do if he was turned down.

He sat there, the silence only staged off by the various humans and monsters typing up on their computers. Jerry said nothing, and Flowey feared that this would be his end. He didn’t want his chances to end here, mere days after he had gotten his first taste of love and joy in years. The fear continued to well up as Jerry said nothing, but he couldn’t bear to look up at the small monster. All these years of being alone with only himself to relate to had left him hungering for any type of emotion, but for the first time, heartbreak was what terrified him the most. He was scared.

The seconds ticked by. Jerry continued to keep silent, only increasing the tenseness within Flowey’s roots. He didn’t know what the monster was thinking, but at this point, he was dying for any small bit of closure. So, with an inhale, he forced himself to look up.

Jerry wasn’t even looking at him. He was on his phone, typing away at something while Flowey sat there dumbfounded. ‘What the hell?’ he thought to himself. ‘Had this buffoon even heard a word of what I said?’

“Hey!”  

Jerry blinked and looked down in confusion. “Huh?” he mumbled, his voice annoyingly nasally as he took his eyes off his phone for those few rare moments. “You. Me. Date!” Flowey demanded, making it as simple as possible. Jerry merely wiped his nose. “Does your house have Wi-Fi?” he asked, glancing at his computer. “Yes! Yes my house has more Wi-Fi than you can shove up your fat litt- ahem.” Flowey closed his eyes and cleared his voice. “Yes, my house has Wi-Fi. I’ll even give you the password. Just one date is all I ask. How’s that?”  

“Sure. Whatever,” Jerry shrugged, logging off of his computer and getting off his chair. “Where are we going? Hopefully not somewhere lame.” Flowey felt something die inside of him as he realized this may have been the biggest mistake of his life.

“Well, yes, I had an idea,” the flower offered. “How about to my house? We can get to know each other more before we go on our first date.” Jerry just shook his head. “Nah, I have a better idea. Let’s go out to Mettaton’s Burger Emporium. I’m pretty hungry right now.” Flowey’s smile faded some at the thought of going to such a costly fast food place right now, but he just sucked it up, replaced the dull expression with a fresh smile, and gestured to the door. “This way, then. It’s just a few blocks away, so we can talk while we-“

“Wait. You want me to walk all the way there?” Jerry interrupted, his already fat lips sticking out some like a duck’s bill. Flowey blinked in confusion, not exactly expecting that response. “Well… yeah. That’s okay, right? I mean, it’s just a short walk. It’s not like you’ll-“

“You didn’t even bring a car?” Jerry scoffed.

“I… I can’t drive. I’m a flower,” Flowey said slowly. However, he knew he had to fix this. If not, Jerry would surely reject him here and now. “Well, I can get us a ride! In fact, I know someone who knows a shortcut there!” He quickly pulled out the phone Toriel had gotten him for his birthday, quickly finding Sans’ number. As much as he hated that trash bag, he needed to salvage this already disastrous meet up. Jerry just sighed and got back onto the computer. “Make it quick, dude.”

Once the skeleton’s number was found, Flowey was quick to call him. After a few rings, Sans answered, which was a surprise. He usually just ignored the phone calls altogether.  

“Hey,” Sans greeted in his usual slow drawl. “Watchya need, weed?” It took every ounce of strength not to berate Sans right there in the middle of the café. “Tra- Sans, I need a lift to Mettaton’s burger place.” He heard the other’s signature stunted chuckle of the other on. “Heh. Alright then. But it’s gonna cost ya.” Flowey grimaced, his inventory already empty of any G that he didn’t want to spend on their food. Glamburgers were expensive, after all. “I don’t have any money,” he growled, making sure his voice was low so he didn’t discourage Jerry fully. “It doesn’t cost much. Just a simple ‘please’ is all I need. Oh, and add a ‘Sans is the ultimate punmaster’ at the end there for good measure” The plant’s reaction was immediate. “What?” he hissed. “C’mon, Sans. Cut me a break!” “Oh it’s just a few words,” Sans mocked. “Flower you going to survive?” Flowey felt his patience thinning. “Sans, just pick me up now!” he spat, only to be met with the sound of crinkling tin foil on the other side. “Oh no, I think our phone connection is dying,” Sans said in mock anguish, squeezing the crumpled up tin more on his side of the call.

“God damn it, fine! Please pick me up and you’re the ultimate punmaster!” Flowey exploded, seething in anger due to his already short temper.  

“Heh, alright. I’m convinced.”

The call was soon dropped, and within seconds, Sans entered the café, his grin cockier than usual. “Alright, weed, let’s get a move on. Tori’s making pie. I wanna be at her place before it gets cold.” He looked around, his vision skirting around Jerry. “So, who’s your ‘friend’? It’s not the Ice Cap, is it? Those things really need to learn to chill. Heh.” Flowey gave an annoyed sigh and gestured to his date. “It’s Jerry.” Jerry just gave a wave from his computer, still focused on Undernet. The tops of the skeleton’s sockets raised some, but he gave a slow nod. “Him? Alright then. C’mon Jerry.”

Jerry merely grunted as he continued to search on his computer. Flowey sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Jerry! Now!” he demanded, making the monster sigh and get down from his chair, waddling over to Sans and wrapping a small, thin hand around Sans’ thickly-boned one. It was clear from the skeleton’s expression that he had only now realized just how greasy Jerry’s hands were. He seemed to grimace, his actual permanent grin not fading as he quickly bent down to pick up Flowey. The flower dislodged his roots from the cracked surface of the wooden floor and latched around Sans’ arm. And with that, they walked out.

They soon found themselves in front of the fast food place. The moment Sans was able to shake Jerry off of his hand, he wiped his carpals all over his jacket to get the grease off. He set Flowey down, who quickly planted himself down in a nearby potted plant. “I should need you in about an hour or so. Stand by your phone, okay?” Flowey told him, only to get a chuckle in response. “Heh, sure thing. A ‘thank you’ would be nice, y’know. Well, enjoy your… whatever.” Sans spun on his heel and promptly walked off.

The two walked inside the cooled restaurant, the smell of greasy Glamburgers and fruity Starfait hitting them instantly. Flowey didn’t need to eat magical foods, but he definitely could, so he thought that just downing one small meal wouldn’t be so bad. They got into line, Flowey latching into Jerry’s arm so he didn’t have to keep breaking the floorboards and having to make Toriel pay for damages. Jerry didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he didn’t even seem to notice, just texting on his phone. Flowey was the more disturbed one, really, as he could feel his roots beginning to soak up the oily substances and sweat that just seemed to coat Jerry’s entire body. If he had a gag reflex, it would definitely have been triggered by now.

The line shortened fairly quickly, and by the time it was their turn, Jerry was still on his phone, texting away. A quick nudge from Flowey caught his attention, and he looked up at Burgerpants, who watched him with a twitching, forced grin. “Welcome to MTT’s Burger Emporium!” he forced out in phony enthusiasm and excitement. “What can I get for you two?” Flowey looked over at Jerry, giving him a polite smile. “How about you order first, huh?” Jerry just nodded and looked up at the menu. “I would like uhhhhhhh……” He gazed dumbly up at the words displayed on the screen, a small hand placed under his fat chin as he thought of what to order. “Give me… hmm… well…….. can you give me uhhhh….. no…. well, I want a….”

This went on for a good minute before Burgerpants forcefully turned his attention to the flower. “I’ll give him a minute. And what would you like little buddy?”

“I wanna fucking die,” Flowey sighed. The cat monster just sighed and nodded in agreement. “Same.” He pulled out a flask, unscrewing it and takin a quick swig of its contents. “Same.”

So, Flowey ordered a Starfait, deciding to just have something to keep the poor man busy as Jerry continued to stare like a buffoon up at screen. Finally, his date ordered three Glamburgers, and two orders of Fab Fries, telling Burgerpants to leave off he salt because he was watching his weight. He was somehow oblivious to the truck loads of irony. Once their order was served, Jerry got pissy when he realized that his Glamburger had cheese on it, something he had allegedly ordered to leave off because he was lactose intolerant. Burgerpant disputed the fact that he had said this, only making it worse for him. When he tried to tell Jerry that it was all magic food anyways and the cheese wouldn’t even have any affect off his body, he was ordered to make it again. Flowey, all the while, was just sulking by himself.

“That’ll be five-hundred G,” Burgerpants sighed, his expression twisted into one of anguished impatience as he eyed the angry mob of hungry customers behind Jerry. However, he wasn’t getting out that easy.

Flowey took out the needed G and handed it over, watching the cashier subtract the money from the total. He glanced at his date, who blinked and glanced back, not paying for his food. Flowey furrowed the little brow he had. “Well? Aren’t you going to pay?” Jerry gave him an annoyed look. “Pay? I don’t have any money.”

Flowey wilted over and sighed in defeat.

A bit of digging around for G and a bit of convincing Burgerpants was what it took for their tab to be paid off. Flowey was drained of money as they took their food and walked away, ignoring the mob that soon overwhelmed the poor cashier.

That entire transaction had taken thirty minutes.

Ha, just kidding.

It was an hour.

Finally, they were sat down at a table, and Flowey was ready to drink a gallon of weed killer to end it all. Still, all he needed to do was look up at Jerry to find hope rising back up inside him, urging him to not give up and continue forth. Still, he couldn’t help but stare as Jerry was gobbling down his meal, picking up each individual fry and stuffing his mouth with it. And then, after each fry, he would stick out his tongue to slowly lick up each of his stubby fingers to lick off the grease and crumbs, his surprisingly long tongue working between each and every crack and crevice, before he would eat another fry and start the cycle over again. It was so disgusting, and yet so… beautiful.

God, kill him now.

This must be some prank. It had to be. It was a prank from Chara. This was some giant middle finger to him from the grave, as one last “fuck you” just to mess with him.

And it was almost like a blessing.

He mentally slapped himself. No, no it wasn’t.

So just watched Jerry, absolutely disgusted, and yet unable to tear his gaze away in fear it would be disgracing his love.

“You gonna eat that?” Jerry grunted, gesturing to the Starfait. Flowey blinked and looked at it, only having remembered it just now. Well, it did sound pretty tasty…

“You can have it,” he sighed, pushing it over. Damn it, Flowey. Jerry didn’t say anything more as he took the cup and downed it without a second thought, making weird slurping noises and he poured it all down his gullet. After he was done, he smacked his lips noisily and ate the rest of his food. This was what love looks like. This was the perfect monster.

“Alright, so to your place?” Jerry asked, pulling out his phone to type something with his wet, still greasy fingers. “Yeah! Sure thing!” Flowey said, uncharacteristically  enthusiastic, pulling out his phone and calling Sans again. It didn’t take as much prodding as it did last time to get him to come. Once again, Sans sauntered through the doorway and forced himself to grab Jerry’s hand, wincing at how wet his palms felt. Flowey grabbed onto him as well, almost wanting to apologize to him.

In no time, they were at Toriel’s home, where the boss monster lived with Flowey and Frisk. Upon entering, Sans was quick to shake Jerry off and wipe his hand off on his jacket. “Sans? Is that you?” they heard from the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked pie hitting their senses. This seemed to attract Jerry the most, because to Flowey’s horror, the small monster immediately waddled over to the kitchen to grab a slice. Needless to say, Toriel wasn’t expecting to see him come over with a hand out expectantly.  

“Oh, you must be Jerry,” Toriel hummed. “I’ve… heard about you. What are you doing here, dear? Did Flowey bring you here?”  

“What’s that?” Jerry instead asked, pointing to the pie he could just barely see over the high counter. “Oh, er, that’s pie, dear,” she told him politely, folding her hands at her front. “It’s already cooled down and ready to eat. My child, Frisk, and I already had a piece, and I was just about to cut Sans one. Would you like a slice?” She reached for the pie cutter, but she wouldn’t need it. Jerry was way ahead of her.

Sans and Flowey walked in just in time to see Jerry stick his hand into the part of the pie tin that had a slice already removed, sliding his fingers under the crust and removing a large chunk of the dessert. He immediately began gobbling it down bear-handed, once again licking his fingers once he was done. He waddled back over to Sans, who just stared at him with that grin frozen over his face. Toriel didn’t even look like she believed what she had just witnessed.

“Okay… not gonna lie. That was probably the most disgusting think I’ve ever seen,” Sans stated bluntly, watching Jerry skitter over to the pantry to raid it for chips and snack, before going over to the TV with his chips to watch something entertaining with his wet hands all over the remote. Flowey slowly looked up at Sans. “I’ll give you five G to pour a bucket of weed killer onto me,” he offered. “Make it fifty G and you’ve got a deal,” Sans sighed, walking in the other direction. Toriel looked as though she was about to offer him some pie, but stopped when Jerry came back over and carved out another piece with his greasy hands. Flowey really hand no choice but to detach himself from Sans and latch onto Jerry again, forced to hear the monster’s heaving breathing as he shoved potato chips into his mouth and licked his lips of any salt and crumbs. Oh god, how he wanted that tongue to lather against his petals and-

Okay, okay, hold on just a minute.  

Flowey stared wide-eyed straight ahead, bewildered at his own thought. This had to be the work of Chara. No god was evil enough to bestow this curse upon him. It just wasn’t right, even for him. He looked up at the ceiling, wanting to cry and scream at the same time. “Of all people, Chara,” he hissed to himself, feeling tears enter his eyes. “Finally. Finally someone makes me feel something again. And it has to be Jerry?” He closed his eyes, bowing his head. “This is your fault, isn’t it? Even in death you can’t stop playing jokes on me and making life hell. What? Is this payback for back then? Ha. Ha. Very funny. Bet you feel real proud of yourself right now.”

“Yo, can you shut up?” Jerry commented to him. “You’re talking over the show.”

God, why did someone so repulsive have to be so beautiful?

Toriel didn’t bother them again. Flowey sat there in a sort of limbo state, listening to Jerry noisily smack on his chips. Eventually, it grew dark, and Jerry got bored of their channels. He got up, a mess of crumbs and crumpled up chip packages spilling onto the floor. “So, like, this whole date was pretty lame,” Jerry shrugged, yanking Flowey off. “But, you guys got good Wi-Fi and lots of snacks. So, like, how about a second date? Tomorrow?”

No. No. No no no no no, for the love of all things sacred, no. He couldn’t bear another day. He just couldn’t.

“Sure!” he said cheerily. “I’ll pick you up at two?” Mother. Fucker.

Jerry gave a nod. “Sure, whatever. I might be asleep, though, so just wait outside for me until I wake up, okay?” He looked out the window. “Ugh, I don’t wanna take the bus home. Can I sleep over?”

“Yeah, of course you-“ Flowey’s acceptance was cut short as Toriel soon walked up to the two, grabbed  Jerry by the giant lump protruding from his head, and promptly went to the door, throwing him out without hesitation and slamming the door, locking it. Ignoring the pawing she heard at her door, she walked over to her son, gingerly picking him up in her arms. Flowey wasted no time in leaning against her bosom, his eyes wide as he realized what he had just done. He had a second date tomorrow.

He had a second date tomorrow with Jerry.

“Shh… there there,” Toriel whispered to him, listening to her son burst into tears. He knew now there was no hell, as nothing could ever be more wretched than this.

God, why did he have to end up with someone so lovable and amazing?