Vines snaked under the bed covers and wrapped tightly around Frisk’s ankles. Careful to not wake the sleeping girl, the vines pulled her out from under her blankets, lifting her up even higher. And then released her. She landed with a thud and pained yelp. Groaning and rubbing her head, the human rolled over to shoot a glare in the direction of the fertilizer tub.
“Oh, good! You’re up!” chirped the flower, vines slinking back into the soil. “Oh golly, are you ok? That sure looked like it hurt.”
“This isn’t going to become a morning thing, Petals.” Frisk pushed herself up from the ground, and felt around for her glasses on her bedside table. She then looked at her alarm clock. “5:30 again.” Yawning, the human covered her mouth and sat down on her bed. There was a shuffling sound and soon she spotted vines climbing up the side of the bed. Reaching over the side, Frisk lifted the flower up and set him down next to her. She yawned again. “What’s up, Flowey? Why’re you such an early bird lately?”
Flowey shrugged his vines. He then climbed down onto the floor, and scuttled towards the door. “C’mon! All those annoying people won’t be up yet!”
Frisk stood up just as Flowey managed to wrench the bedroom door open and began skittering downstairs. Throwing off her night-dress and pulling on a shirt and shorts, the brunette joined the blossom downstairs. Stepping into her shoes, the human quietly tapped out the code to unlock the door. She turned down to the flower, who glared up at her impatiently. “We won’t stay out too long. Mom will freak if she wakes up and we’re gone.” She bent down to offer an arm for the plant to climb on. He refused it. As soon as the door was opened, Flowey scuttled outside. Frisk followed then turned and touched the keypad to relock the door.
It was mid-summer, but this early, there was a cool morning breeze.
Flowey actually waited for Frisk before scuttling down the sidewalk, little petaled head turning this way and that, taking in everything. Frisk was mindful to not accidentally step on the flower’s vines trailing behind him as she kept pace.
This was turning out to be the best exploration yet for the small flower: he was already beginning to feel the warm sun as it rose, he was getting to explore the surface, and there weren’t crowds of humans around. There was only one he could mildly tolerate at best.
Frisk stayed quiet, only occasionally glancing down at the curious blossom while he explored. She yawned every so often, but her tiny friend almost seemed happy as he darted about; something she’d never seen from the plant unless he was faking it to lure someone into a trap.
As their surroundings changed from a light blue to bathed in the warm yellow of morning, people left their homes to head off to work. Some eased into their autocars, and snapped opened a paper as it drove off. Others zipped silently by on e-scooters.
A certain group of people caught Frisk’s attention.
“Hey, Flowey, let’s go this way.” She gestured down a random road in town. She kept watch on the group.
Flowey followed her gaze before looking back up at her. He opened his mouth but Frisk bent down, scooping him up, and turned down the road. “What? Are you being bullied or something?”
Frisk gave a forced chuckle. “No. Uh, let’s just say some people aren’t so happy that monsters are here now. And equally not very happy with the human who brought them up. I’d just like to avoid any scenes.”
“Well what if I wanna cause a scene?” the flower challenged.
“Flowey. No. Not this time. They’ve almost killed monsters before.” Frisk’s face was stern, her mouth in an almost straight line.
Flowey raised an eyebrow, but otherwise looked unimpressed. “I’ve actually killed monsters before and you have no problems cuddling me. Just do your stupid mercy on them and make them your friends.” The flower began squirming to get out of the human’s hold. “Lemme go, and let’s go mess ’em up!”
“Flowey, I said no.” While the human talked, she’d begun walking home. She made sure to keep a firm hold on the flower. If he wiggled free, she just knew he’d burrow over to that group. “I’ve been ok with you doing a lot of things: I don’t care about when you’re rude, or wake me up by dropping me on the floor. I don’t care when you throw food on the ground if you don’t like it. But I’m not letting you do this.”
Flowey grumbled and lowered his petals.
“… How about this: you leave them alone and I’ll get you a full plate of bacon.”
The flower’s petals perked up instantly. “Bribe accepted!”
Flowey climbed out of the flowerpot he had insisted Frisk leave downstairs. Frisk’s mother was at work, and Frisk was at an ambassador meeting. The perfect opportunity for the flower to properly explore his new home without either human in the way. There was a small square of paper next to his pot; Frisk had left a note. In it, she wrote there was food in the kitchen within easy reach if he got hungry, as well as her number, but to please only call if there was an emergency since she would be in meetings all day.
Crawling over the note, and wrapping his vines around the table-leg, the small flower slowly slid down to the floor. Uncoiling from the table, Flowey began scuttling across the floor, using his vines like spider legs. He was in the living room, the largest room in the house. He’d only ever passed through this room into the kitchen and hadn’t actually spent much time in it. There was a large bookcase against the far wall facing the staircase that held mostly books, a small collection of DVDs, and a few boxes marked as ‘Games.’
Flowey crawled closer and wrapped a vine around a game, pulling it out for a closer look: ‘Battleship’, whatever that was. While the main picture on the box showed what Flowey assumed was the game, on the sides there were pictures of what he could only guess were ‘battleships’ blowing up. He couldn’t help but snicker at the thought of such a pacifist like Frisk owning a game like this.
Dropping the box, Flowey continued his exploration of his new home.
Scuttling across the room, Flowey checked out the couch and smaller coffee table. The couch was soft and Flowey liked the medium blue of it. Maybe next time he’d have Frisk leave his flowerpot on there instead.
Moving past the couch, Flowey scuttled out, ignoring the kitchen, and into a little room just to the right. This was the mysterious room Luna walked out of on his first night on the surface. It was an office of sorts: there was a desk with screens above it, and several narrow bookcases and file cabinets. The screens interested him, and the desk surface had rows of letters and numbers. A computer, Frisk called it. Different to the one in Alphys’ lab. After a moment he decided he didn’t want to use the energy to climb the desk just to find he couldn’t make the screens do anything. Flowey backed out of the room.
Skittering back through the livingroom, Flowey approached another door, and gave a quick peek in: just a small, boring bathroom. Flowey made his way to the stairs. Using his vines, he slowly climbed them: he placed two vines on the step above, and pulled himself up. He repeated this until he finally reached the second floor.
Glancing into his and Frisk’s room near the top of the stairs, Flowey continued down the hall and peeked into the first room he came to. A bathroom, larger than the one downstairs but not very interesting. Ducking out, he scuttled further down the hall before trying the next door. This one was locked.
Frowning, the flower thought about shooting it with his pellets until it broke, but ultimately decided against it. That wouldn’t exactly help Frisk’s mother warm up to him.
The next door opened. This was a bedroom but other than a bed and nightstand the room was completely empty.
Closing the door, Flowey maneuvered his way downstairs to see what food Frisk left for him. There was still the basement, but Flowey… didn’t feel like exploring that. He could do that later when Frisk was back.
Frisk groaned as she glared down at the paperwork covering almost the entire surface of her desk.
“Just write that everyone’s fine and they should butt out of everyone’s business already!”
The human turned around towards the flower sitting on the desk. A flowerpot was next to him. He wasn’t in it but he was idly drawing figure 8s in the soil with a vine. He was resting his petaled head on another vine.
“I can’t say that. It needs to be professionally worded.” Frisk sighed.
Flowey huffed loudly. “I’m bored!”
“I know! I’m sorry! I am too, but I gotta finish this first.” Frisk ran a hand through her hair. “Once this is finished, I promise, I’ll find something fun to do – as long as it’s legal.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Flowey grabbed the paper with his vines to look it over. He then gave it back. “Ok. I’ll help you finish this – and then I wanna go outside and play. Find something fun that can only be done up here.”
Frisk nodded in thanks.
The human had to write quickly while the flower talked about the other monsters. Some things she knew from talking to the others herself: like how Toriel and Asgore adopted a human who fell, without hesitating, or how Papyrus always tries to inspire others. Some things she didn’t. Like how Nabstablook would sit and talk to someone for hours if they were truly upset. Or how the bunny who ran the inn, if someone desperately needed a warm place to stay the night but had no money, would let them stay anyway.
Or how the skeleton brothers had once taken in a homeless child.
Soon the spaces provided on the paperwork were all filled.
“Thanks so much, Flowey!” Frisk said, stacking the paperwork in a neat pile. Thinking for a moment, she then asked, “Have you ever been on a bike before?” At the confused look she added, “Two wheels, you ride it around?”
“Chara used to talk about those. You actually have one?”
Frisk nodded. “Yeah! Though I’m going to insist you go in the pot. I don’t want you being blown off during the ride.”
Once the flower nestled back into the soil, Frisk picked up the pot and went out to the garage. Grabbing a basket and some straps, Frisk clipped the basket to the front of her bike, set the flowerpot in it, and used the straps the secure it. She then popped a helmet on and walked the bike outside.
Flowey stayed quiet, mostly just enjoying the sun while Frisk pedalled along the road. However as soon as Frisk rode down a hill and the wind rustled through his petals, Flowey actually started to enjoy it. He closed his eyes and stretched himself taller in his little pot.
Frisk circled around the neighborhood in order to go down the small hill again and again, and only stopped when her legs needed a rest.
After the break, the two rode around town for a few hours, Flowey at one point directing the way. Rolling through town on the bike allowed him to explore quickly.
“Ok, I’ll be right back and then we’ll head out.” Frisk stood up from her desk and ran upstairs.
Flowey for a change had actually already been in one of his little flowerpots. He turned to look out the window while waiting for Frisk.
Footsteps caught his attention. That was fast. Turning around expecting Frisk, instead he found Luna. She was holding a watering can.
“Um. … Hi?” she tried. When Flowey didn’t respond, the woman spoke again, stepping closer to the desk. “We got off on the wrong foot. If you really did help Frisk escape, I do thank you for that.”
“Uh, yeah…” Flowey looked towards the stairs, hoping Frisk would hurry up.
“You’re name’s Flowey, right?”
The flower nodded, but said nothing. There was another awkward silence. “Do you want some water?” she added.
Instead of answering, Flowey turned away.
Luna hesitated, then stepped forward and raised the watering can. Water poured onto the soil surrounding Flowey.
“Hey!” Flowey whipped around and actually bit the woman on the hand. He didn’t draw blood but it startled her, and it hurt.
Luna flinched away, inspecting her hand. She slammed the watering can down and stomped upstairs. She passed Frisk who was finally heading down. “Frisk, do be careful that that weed doesn’t bite you too.”
Frisk could only blink, mouth open slightly as she quickly darted the rest of the way downstairs. She flew over to Flowey, who now had his thorns out. “You bit her?”
“She watered me when I wasn’t thirsty!” Though glaring, he retracted his thorns as Frisk lifted his flowerpot.
“Did you tell her you didn’t want to be watered?”
“…No. But I turned away when she offered!”
Frisk sighed. “Flowey… You need to use your words. Heck I might have taken that as a yes, with you turning away so the water wouldn’t splash on your face!”
Flowey huffed as Frisk carried his pot outside.
“We’re going to work on your manners.”
Undyne shot a glare at the small flower, who responded by sticking out his tongue and blowing a raspberry, before she grinned at Frisk. “Alright! Like usual, we’re gunna start with a few warm up stretches and maybe work you up to lifting fifteen pounds this time!”
Flowey called from across the room, by one of the training dummies. “When’re you gunna kick her butt?”
Undyne fixed the plant with another glare. “I’m not gunna kick her butt, it’s not that kind of training!”
Flowey giggled. “I meant Frisk kicking your butt!”
Groaning, the blue fish monster turned back to Frisk. By now the human had finished her warm up stretches. “Ready?”
Neither Undyne nor Flowey knew why Frisk brought him along for these sessions, but the flower watched intently. He was kinda curious what sort of ‘training’ Undyne actually gave the human. There was no need for the girl to fight, so what was the point?
By the looks of it, it was mostly self-defense: Rather than throwing punches and kicks, Frisk was dodging and twisting away from various holds.
After a while, Undyne brought out the weights. “What do you want to start with?”
Before Frisk could answer, Flowey piped up. “Go for the heaviest!”
“Will you butt out?!” Undyne yelled. “I’d like to see you do better!”
This only made the flower laugh more. “I’m literally a flower. There’s no way I could! I dunno why Frisk even brought me along.”
Frisk grinned. Apparently she was waiting for him to say exactly that. “But Flowey! When I went down to get you, you caught me just fine when I fell and even lifted me back up to that tree root when we left! And I’m about twice your size!”
Flowey sank in the dirt while Undyne turned from Frisk back to him, motioning with a finger for him to come over. Unhappy where this was heading, Flowey reluctantly burrowed closer.
“How much can you lift?” Undyne asked once he was close enough.
Flowey made the mistake of raising two vines out of the ground in a shrug. He realized his error at the way the grin spread across Undyne’s face. Before he could lower the vines back underground, Undyne set the entire box of weights on them. For a moment he almost dropped them, but then he tightened his vines around the box and held it in place.
“Not bad.” Taking a weight from the box and handing it to Frisk, she then added, “While still holding those, pick up Frisk as well.”
The human laughed lightly as vines snaked around her before lifting her up.
At the flower’s almost smug grin, Undyne said. “Alright. Now come out of the dirt and lift something.”
Flowey’s grin fell.
“C’mon, Flowey! It’ll be fun!” Frisk added.
Gulping, the small flower set Frisk and the box of weights down before his roots disappeared underground and he carefully uprooted himself, climbing out of the dirt. He glanced around nervously, feeling very uneasy at being out of the ground and exposed like this around the fish monster. Without soil, his vines could not grow and protect him. If she wanted to, she could easily spear him before he could slip back into the soil.
Flowey swallowed. But instead of attacking, Undyne reached into the box and pulled out a dull metal weight with a ‘2’ in large numbers etched into either end. The two pounder was the lightest one in the box. Undyne held it out to the flower.
His vines looked shrunken compared to before, without soil to give him strength. Reaching up with a much smaller vine, Flowey wrapped it around the middle of the weight. And was promptly pulled to the ground with a clunk. Coiling a second vine around the narrow middle of the weight, Flowey tugged at it, leaning back and grimacing. The weight did not shift.
“Looks like I’ll be toughening up both of you,” Undyne smirked.
Later, Frisk headed for home with an exhausted flower laying limply across her head.
“Are you ok?” Frisk asked, glancing up.
After a moment Flowey sighed and then responded. “Yeah. It was actually kinda fun. I’m,” he stretched out a vine, “tired. But in a good way.”
The human beamed, her eyes still rolled upward, trying to glimpse the tired flower. “Wanna come again the next time?”
Now the flower hesitated. “Uhhh… Maybe. If you can convince her there’s no way I’ll work up to lifting 20 freaking pounds in one single freaking day.”
Frisk giggled and nodded, reaching up to softly pat the flower on the head. This time he didn’t shove her hand away. “Deal!”
The sun was setting, and in the falling dusk, Flowey didn’t see a small happy smile turn up the corners of Frisk’s mouth. This was great! He liked it. Her plan just might work: Flowey was still a little ball of aggression. This could be an outlet for him to work some of that out without harming anyone.
“Where are we going now?” the flower grumbled from his perch on Frisk’s shoulder. Over her other shoulder was the strap from a backpack which held one of Flowey’s flowerpots.
“To see my dad!” the human chirped. “You haven’t met him yet!”
Flowey shut his eyes and unwrapped a vine in order to shrug with it. “I just assumed you didn’t have one and you were created in some lab. Some experiment on how to make something freakishly happy all the time.”
Frisk raised an eyebrow. “Flowey,” she said, adding a slight whine to her tone. “I’m not freakishly happy all the time!”
“Sure.” After a moment, Flowey added, “Why aren’t they together? Is it like Mo- … Toriel and Asgore?”
Frisk glanced away with a slight wince. After a moment the human finally responded. “It’s … complicated. They technically aren’t divorced but they’re struggling to stay together.”
Flowey raised an eyebrow. “That’s dumb.”
Letting out a sigh, Frisk shook her head. “It’s just a … it’s complicated. I don’t want to see them fight anymore, but I also hope they can work things out and maybe get back together someday.”
Flowey rolled his eyes and fell silent again.
As the two waited for the bus, the pair couldn’t help but notice how many people gave them odd looks and the occasional glare. As one solar bus sighed past, silent except for the wheels crunching on the road, Flowey stuck his tongue out at passengers frowning through the windows.
Frisk sighed again. “It’s better to just ignore them, Flow-Flow.”
With his tongue still out, the flower pivoted his glare to the girl before pulling his tongue back in. “Yeah. That’s a nickname that’s not staying.”
Finally their bus came. As the door slid open, the bus lowered almost to the ground, and an elderly woman crept slowly off. Getting on, Frisk walked to the back. Flowey climbed over to the shoulder closest to the window, looking out. The bus pulled away from the side of the road and joined the cars, bikes and motorcycles flowing down the street.
As the view outside passed by, the small flower reminded Frisk of an excited puppy on a car ride, the way they bounce up to a window and fall back down, then finally place paws on the door to see out. Flowey also was trying to take in everything. He kept moving from her shoulder, then down onto the seat, then climbing back up on her shoulder. At one point he was stretched so far forward on his roots, when the bus stopped Frisk had to quickly catch him from falling.
Finally Frisk pushed a button on a grab-pole in the aisle. The word STOPPING lit up on a screen near the front, where the driver was located. The bus slowed, then pulled to the side of the road and stopped. Frisk gathered up Flowey and headed to the door. The pair were greeted by an average height Hispanic man in his forties.
“Hi, Dad!” Frisk exclaimed, running up and hugging the man.
“Ah mi hija, I hope the bus ride was alright?” He returned the hug. When he pulled back, he asked, “And who’s this?” while offering a friendly smile to the flower perched on the girl’s shoulder.
Well, Flowey was beginning to see where Frisk gets her annoying smile from. “…Flowey.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Flowey. My name’s Dante.”
Unlike Frisk’s mother, this guy didn’t make even one comment about the fact Flowey was, well, a flower. He was simply greeted the way another monster might greet him. Very weird coming from a human, but a nice surprise.
However, as good as it was, Flowey was curious about how calm this Dante was about everything. The human’s other parent seemed to still have such a huge problem with him. “Um, how are you so ok with a talking flower?”
Dante let out a soft chuckle. “Why shouldn’t I be? You have every right to exist as I do.”
Flowey wasn’t able to respond, rendered silent in the way only Frisk and Papyrus had managed until now. Never before had a human said something like that. He still didn’t even fully like his own existence. After technically what could be years and years of being bored with nothing new, he wasn’t sure how to react to so many new and surprising things happening all the time. The flower remained quiet. One group of humans were so dangerous Frisk walked a different route. Others glared, or stared, or frowned. To Frisk’s own mother, he was a weed! But to Dante? He had a ‘right to exist.’
Maybe Frisk and Dante shared more than just the tendency to grin like idiots.
Five a.m. rolled around once again. Flowey blinked awake and yawned as he unfurled his petals. Sunlight was just beginning to peek through the bedroom window. The human lay quietly in the bed. It wasn’t fair she was sleeping with the sun starting to rise.
A toothy grin spread across the flower’s face as his vines stretched forward out of his fertilizer bed to snake under the blankets. The vines had only just barely wrapped around Frisk’s ankles when she sudden spoke.
“Don’t you even dare.” Her voice sounded half asleep though.
“Whaaaaat?” Flowey feigned innocence. “I wasn’t going to do anything!”
A tired groan escaped the human as she pushed herself up on one arm, turning her head to peer down at the flower. She caught Flowey quickly withdrawing his vines back into his dirt tub. “So you weren’t about to throw me out of bed again.” It wasn’t a question. She knew.
“Why would I do something so mean to my bestest friend ever?”
“You’ve done this every morning for the past week and a half!”
Flowey dropped his innocent act. “I’m bored, ok?! I stupidly synced up with the stupid sun and so I’m forced awake at stupid-early o’ clock and have to wait for your stupid butt to wake up! So I get you up so it’s less awful for me!” The small flower raised three of his vines and crossed two of them, imitating folded arms while pointing the third accusingly at Frisk. “You never warned me that coming to the surface included these side effects!”
The human sighed, though not in annoyance. Pushing herself the rest of the way up, she stood and crossed the room to the dirt tub. She knelt down to be eye-level with Flowey. “I didn’t realize. You’re the only sentient plant I know – well, other than the Vegetoids – but they didn’t seem to sync.”
Flowey only glared. “Fix it or find something for me to do and maybe I won’t throw you on the floor every morning.”
Frisk exhaled through her nose and ran a hand through her hair. She hated being dragged out of deep sleep every dawn. Still, she couldn’t really be upset with him for being pissed about being dragged to the surface just to spend hours alone every morning. After a moment an idea came to her.
“Maybe I can set up a little ladder next to Mom’s computer. Teach you how to use it. Then you can watch videos or something while waiting for everyone to wake up,” Frisk suggested.
The little flower snickered. “Ok Google: How to kill all humans?”
Frisk cringed. “Maybe I’ll think of something else for you to do…”
Flowey’s little face twisted into one of disappointment, tiny mouth ajar. “No, no! I won’t! The only computers I’ve seen were Papyrus’ and Alphys’! And they weren’t hooked up the actual internet!” He even shifted his face to resemble his old Asriel self: large red eyes, shining and watery, little fang-y snout turned down in a pout. Complete with a little quiver. “Please? I’ll be good!”
He’d even altered his voice! He’s dropped the normal distortion and crackiness, but kept the childish tone. It brought Frisk back to the night the barrier broke.
How was she expected to say ‘no’ to that?
Frisk sighed in defeat. “Ok, ok. You win. But if it was illegal to do down there – don’t look it up online up here, ok?”
The flower’s distress fled far too quickly. He shifted back to his flatter flower-face. “Deal!” he exclaimed, in his normal scratchy voice.
Frisk held out her arm for the little blossom to climb onto. “Well I’m up now. C’mon.”
After easing out his roots one at a time, Flowey coiled them around Frisk’s wrist.
Yawning, the human stood up, heading downstairs.
The next morning Flowey glared at the window, as the blackness began greying and then lightening up to a medium blue. He was tempted to fling the human out of bed again. So tempted. But he ultimately decided against it. While still in the soil, he used magic to extend one of his vines to the doorknob, twisted it, and swung the door open.
Climbing out of his dirt-box, Flowey scuttled out of the room. Reaching the top of the stairs, Flowey peered down into the gloom. He grimaced in annoyance. There were a lot. Careful to not trip over his own vines, the flower started climbing down each tread. Using his roots, he lowered his bulb first before crawling to the next step and repeating the action.
Flowey huffed in exhaustion when he finally reached the ground floor. Why did humans have to have stupid stairs?
Pushing himself back up on his roots, the little flower tapped across the livingroom until he reached the room just right of the kitchen. Luna’s home office. Slithering inside and next to the computer desk, the small blossom began pulling out drawers so he could climb up.
The little plant hoisted himself onto the desk. Looking down at the holographic keyboard, he tapped a key to wake the computer up. Where was the mouse? Other computers Flowey had seen had an oval device one could slide around to move from one section of a screen to another, or to click a button icon. Aha! A small grey rubbery section was embedded in the desk. Flowey stroked it, and an arrow moved across one of the screens.
He perched by the keyboard and slid a vine across the mousepad. A report with many words was open on one screen. Flowey didn’t close it off but minimized it instead. He then opened Firefox and pulled up Google. Flowey paused to think about what he actually wanted to look up.
After a moment the little plant tapped his three other vines across the keyboard and a search for movies came up on one of the computer screens. Using the mousepad, Flowey scrolled the page for a moment before going back to the search bar and adding the word ‘horror’.
Scrolling this page for a while, and clicking the star to bookmark the ones that caught his interest, Flowey finally stumbled across one from roughly 340 years ago. A very old film from 1974 called “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre”.
Flowey clicked on that and skimmed the description, glad Chara taught him how to read human words. Liking what he saw, Flowey started the film.
It was the screaming that woke up Frisk and her mother; the high pitched shrieks of a woman in terror. Practically falling out of their beds, the pair rushed downstairs, following the cries to Luna’s home-office. This is where they found Flowey, perched on the desk and grinning with sharp little fangs while watching the movie. Volume turned up to the max.
Frisk darted in and paused the film.
“HEY! I was – You said –”
“That’s way too loud! And that one’s way out of your age demographic!” Flowey actually growled, glaring daggers up at the human girl. “We’ll make a list of ones you’ll like that’re more … appropriate.” Frisk held an arm out for him to climb onto.
Flowey, still glaring, instead chose to climb down the desk and onto the floor and then sulk out of the room.
Luna crossed the room and after closing off the browser, checked the documents she’d left open the night before. She sighed in relief when she found they’d only been minimized. Turning to her daughter she asked, “I’m guessing you said he could browse if he woke up before you?”
Frisk nodded. “Yeah, sorry mom. I told him not to close anything off and taught him how to use Google.” And told him not to look up violent things, she added silently, deciding against telling her mother about Flowey’s interests. Luna would lose it. She was still getting used to monsters in her town, and in her house.
“Next time teach him about volume control too.” Luna ran a hand through her un-made, messy blonde hair and checked her wrist, blinking upon realizing she didn’t have her watch. It was a rather rude awakening. Yawning, Luna went back to her room.
Frisk sighed as she left the room, off to hunt for a pouting flower.
Sprinting upstairs and throwing the door open, Frisk beamed from ear to ear as she looked around the room for Flowey. “Hey, where are you? I’ve got some great news!”
Flowey crawled out from under the bed.
Frisk gave him an odd look. “What were you doing under there?” At Flowey’s lack of a response, the human sighed and continued. “Anyway, the people at the embassy were really impressed with the paperwork you helped me fill in before. They invited you to come along to the next meeting!”
Flowey raised an eyebrow. “Why would I want to do that? Sitting in a room of grumpy old humans being grumpy and old? Sounds boring.”
Crouching down, closer to the plant’s level, the girl tried again. “Flowey, this is great progress! In just a month they’re going to start listening to what monsters have to say!”
“What if I don’t want to? What if I wanna stay home and watch TV instead?” The flower paused, but before Frisk could speak again, he added with a wink: “Buuuut, if maybe you offered me a reward for spending my time with boring humans…”
“You’re serious. I gotta actually bribe you into helping monsterkind get equal rights.” She ran a tired hand through her hair. “Alright, what do you want?”
Flowey tapped a vine on the ground. “Hmmm. A full plate of bacon and there’s a movie series – Saw I think – I wanna watch that!”
“Fueling your addiction to bacon and gory horror movies.”
The flower crossed two of his vines. “Hey – hey! I don’t have a bacon addiction!”
Frisk snickered. “Of course you don’t.”
“So, deal?” Flowey asked, uncrossing his vines.
“I’ll need to think about it – I’m not sure how healthy all that human-food bacon is for you.” She paused, then added, “And I’m not sure how good seeing all that gore would be either.”
If he had feet, he would have stomped. “I’m not a baby! With all my resets I’m probably older than you!”
“I just said I would need to think about it. And how about proving that maturity and settling for a compromise?”
The little flower grumbled. “I’ll think about it.”