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On the Edge of a Knife

Chapter 74: Tiny little interlude rolling down the stream, tiny little interlude time to end this dream...

Notes:

FUCK DEPRESSION.

*Ahem* Sorry, had to get that out of the way.

Hello folks, just wanted to let you know that despite moving, buying a car, fixing said car, dealing with depression, playing various video games, and generally sinking into the mire that is writer's block I did not, in fact, abandon this story.

If I was going to be perfectly honest writing these is probably the reason I'm still sane, or as close to it that I can fake anyway.

But you're not here to hear /me/ bitch, you're here to hear the broken ramblings of an insane child as they plot global genocide!

Far be it from me to keep you! (*~ ‿ I)

Chapter Text

You might have felt bad if it wasn’t so easy to convince him.

A few sweet words, a smattering of honeyed whispers, and he was already dancing to your tune.

And to think you actually thought this was going to be difficult .

You watch as the half-dead human walks away towards the Hotland entrance and from there to the Core itself. He’d meet Gaster there of course, someone who you don’t personally recall from your previous life or the memories of your FAKES but from context you can figure out enough. If he was anything like Alphys he would be interested in the study of Souls just as intensely, and the existence of your fleshsack’s “condition” would only exacerbate that fact.

One touch of a human “expert” on the subject and, well, the chips would fall just where you’d want them to wouldn’t they?

Of course now comes the hardest part of your plan, the hardest part of any of your plans really.

The part where you did nothing.

Oh you weren’t entirely walking away from the process, but this was the delicate stage where any unwarranted manipulation could ruin everything. You had to trust in your skills and your expectations that everyone would behave like you expected them to, that events would play out like you anticipated, and that everything would fall into place or at least close enough where you could navigate around them without any issue.

And that meant letting the Human do his best without your help.

You idly wonder if he appreciates the effort you’re willing to go through for him. You meant every word you said of course, you would give him power, allow him to gain the strength he so desperately craved. You even considered not betraying him after he served his usefulness.

You still are of course, he’s a filthy human that deserves only death and to serve as a catalyst for the world your family richly deserves, but you did consider it.

The giggles echo across the now empty chamber of the trash dump, the only witnesses to your glee the detritus of a doomed world and a damned people. Oh how sweet will their deaths be, how delicious their destruction? A world entire for you to burn for your family, an infinite garden to fertilize for their ascendance.

Oh Asriel, you would gift him with a throne of bone and blood and souls and he will hate you for it.

It hurts admitting that, but you’ve learned from your previous failure. You won’t allow yourself the cloying comfort of delusion. This plan, these actions, there will be no reconciliation with them after this.

You don’t stop the tears that fall from your face, sticky golden sap plopping into the gently flowing waters to fall into the abyss below.

Maybe, maybe after a few centuries he could learn to love you again, a few generations of monsters dying and growing in the sun free from persecution, the full fruit of your gift present and unashamed in the light. You could wait that long, you could wait for an eternity if it meant he would be yours again.

Like he was always meant to be.

Your roots dig into the moist soil of the riverbed as you smile, the segments of your jaw blossoming like the flower you’re cursed to inhabit. You wouldn’t give up, not now, not ever.

They’re worth this pain, this agony, they were always worth it.

The dirt parts like curtains as you dive down, sliding through the ground like a bird flying through the air. You might not be able to mess with your plan directly, not in this delicate stage, but that doesn’t mean you have to sit idle. There are still levers to push, buttons to press, nudges to make.

It’s amazing what the right person in the wrong place at the most horrible time can accomplish.

After all you would know that first hand wouldn’t you?