Frisk hoped that tonight’s dream would be happier than last night’s. After all, how could it possibly get any worse from that?
Afterward, they couldn’t recall much of the dream.
The host was lounging on the couch in the most comfortable way possible (which also happened to be the worst possible posture), watching some terrible cartoon, when his brother opened the door, this time somewhat cheerfully and not as though he was mad at his brother like before.
“Hey, S̫̘̣͆ͣͨa͈̣̹̿͘n̨̲̍̿̾͜͝s̶̘̩͉͓̩ͪ̀̑̐̍, we got a letter from Asgore about this fancy party he’s hosting,” the taller brother announced, and Frisk felt a little thrill at having heard a name they recognized.
“Okay, good for you, but what’s this gotta do with me?” the host interjected, eyes still glued to the TV.
The other sighed. “It says I can bring you along too, and that even though he’s never gotten to meet you, you must be a good person if you’re my brother.”
The host looked up at that, glancing at his brother. “Ah, well, I guess with a warm welcome like that, I can’t possibly refuse.” The taller skeleton’s face visibly brightened.
Without any warning, a door slammed open somewhere else in the house, and a thundering of feet announced the arrival of fish lady, who practically bowled over the taller skeleton in her mad rush. Her Cheshire-wide smile displayed her yellow, jagged teeth, and her eyebrows were at a sharp point downwards.
“Hey, dorks!” she yelled at the top of her lungs. The host raised a bonebrow at her volume and enthusiasm, but her smile only grew wider, if that were even possible. “Didja get an invite to that party Asgore’s hosting?” Again, there was Frisk’s father’s name.
“Yes, we did, Ų͈̲̘͒ͩ̄ͮ͝n̝͈͓̱̗͔̑͗̈́͡d̸̹͉̝͎̳̍͊y͇ͣ͑ͬͥͭ̽͋̃͟͝ṅ̼̙̔̀͗ͬ͢͢ȩ̝͛͒͋͜,” said the skeleton she was currently standing on top of, and she looked down at the sound of his voice.
“Oh, damn, sorry!” she apologized, lending him a hand to help him up, which he took with one of his red-gloved hands. “I didn’t break anything, did I?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he replied, possibly a little haughty as he dusted off his clothing and smoothed out the letter he still held, which had become considerably crumpled underneath him due to the fish lady’s unintentional assault.
“Anyway, the letter?” she pried.
“Yes, I’m invited, and so is S̫̘̣͆ͣͨa͈̣̹̿͘n̨̲̍̿̾͜͝s̶̘̩͉͓̩ͪ̀̑̐̍.” His expression was unreadable, but looked a little cold, probably due to her having trampled him.
“And since it was such a nice invitation, I guess I gotta go now,” the host added with a shrug of his shoulders.
The fish lady stared at him. “You? A fancy party?” After a second, she added, “No offense.”
“None taken,” he replied, tone still as joking as always. “But you? A fancy party?” He stared at her, willing her to break.
After a moment, she did break, bursting out into loud, raucous laughter. “You got me there, S̫̘̣͆ͣͨa͈̣̹̿͘n̨̲̍̿̾͜͝s̶̘̩͉͓̩ͪ̀̑̐̍! I probably wouldn’t be going either if Asgore hadn’t specifically asked for me to be there.”
Sure, it may have been cacophonous, but her laughter was infectious, and it didn’t take long for the two skeletons to start chuckling too.
Frisk smiled at the ceiling. What a pleasant memory… then they recalled the look on the fish lady’s face when she’d been called out, and they started laughing too. They just couldn’t help it. Now Frisk really wanted to meet these guys, as soon as possible, and they knew that they would be attending the party too. (Although, to be honest, Frisk was a little scared of what the fish lady might end up doing to them.)
Sans stared at the ceiling in the dark, willing himself to fall asleep, and it didn’t take very long.
The host looked down at a golden dress they were holding out in front of them.
“I have to wear this?” they asked, clearly aghast, if their tone was anything to go off of.
The other human snickered. “You did agree that you’d let Mom choose what you’d wear to Dad’s party.”
“I did, but… She seemed so excited, and… I couldn’t say no…” Their voice carried a hint of resignation to their fate.
“That’s why I’m so glad she didn’t ask me, I’ve already gotten a tux.” Xyr red eyes glimmered, amused by the host’s discomfort.
“I guess I’ll just have to hope that my dysphoria won’t be too bad.” Hearing this, the other’s malicious glee disappeared from xyr face and xe looked sympathetic and a touch concerned.
“Hadn’t thought about that, I hope so too.”
Dysphoria? What was… oh, his soulmate must be that human thing called “nonbinary.” Sans had heard a bit about it, spending as much time surfing the web for memes as he had, but he decided then that he’d better read up and make himself more familiar with the term.
“Oh well. No use worrying now,” his host concluded, the tone of cheerfulness in their voice false. Sans knew that fake happiness, he’d used it plenty of times on Papyrus, and it seemed to work at least partially on the red-eyed human too, because xe smiled again.
Sans lay awake thinking for a while. Was the party the humans had talked about the same one he and his brother had been invited to? Come to think of it, hadn’t they said that their father was hosting the party…? Wasn’t Asgore that blonde-bearded goat he’d seen in their memories? He'd only met the guy a few times, when Asgore had come to visit Alphys at her lab, but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure of it.
And now that Sans knew what his soulmate would be wearing at the party the next day–which happened to be quite lucky, considering he could’ve been shown any of their memories at random–it would be easier to find the person he’d be with for the rest of his life.