i really need to stop starting fics when i have others to finish

oneshot that may or may not become more in the future

All the humans that had come here were very young—children. And all of them, every single one, had been killed some way or another. This world was not a happy place, she knew, but even... maybe she could make it just a little bit better.

Toriel looked down at the bed of flowers that had blossomed atop Chara's grave. Tears rimmed her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. It had been years since Chara's death, and she refused to be sad any longer. She had moved on, accepting that Chara had gone to a better place than this wretched underground.

But... she had to admit, she missed Chara. She missed having company around. She missed not being lonely.

Light from above shone down from the hole, and even though the barrier was as clear as day, there was no escape. Monsters everywhere found themselves losing hope that freedom would ever come.

She could almost laugh. It made her think of a story she used to read to her children, the one about the angel that would come from above and destroy the barrier, saving them all. It instilled hope into the children across the underground, giving them ideas and goals and inspirations.

This world was truly an unfair place.

Toriel looked up at the hole that lead to the underground with the faintest hint of contempt, and sighed. Then, something caught her eye, and her breath caught in her throat as she watched a pair of shadows toss something in a blanket down.

The shadows disappeared as quickly as they had come, and Toriel found herself reaching out to catch the bundled blanket out of pure instinct. It landed with a soft sound in her arms, and Toriel was surprised to feel how light it was.

She pulled away the blanket, and jumped in surprise as a pudgy human face was there to meet her.

Toriel stared for what seemed like the longest time, her eyes wide and her breathing slow as she pieced together the situation. A pair of shadows, most likely humans above, threw down a baby that looked no older than a week or two. And from the looks of it, the baby hadn't eaten in a while. It was deathly pale, and its chest barely rose in time with its breath as it slept soundly in her arms.

She quickly left the area, walking towards her house and finding some old clothes from when her own son was a baby, putting them onto the baby and wrapping the blanket back around it.

The baby stirred awake, its dull eyes staring up at her in confusion as it squirmed in her grip. Toriel let out a soft breath, picking up the baby and letting it lean on her shoulder, patting its back gently. It let out a tiny cry, followed by another yawn.

Toriel felt herself break into a serene smile. Just when she had lost all hope... the land above graced her with something pure and new.

She had to protect this one. She wouldn't let this one fall into the hands of the King and be killed. Not again.

A name. What was she going to name the baby?

Toriel racked her mind, thinking of common names in the underground and uncommon ones. She wondered what were the common names for human babies.

"...Frisk," she said softly, and the baby sighed quietly against her as if in approval.

She smiled again, patting the baby's back and rocking her body back and forth.

"I'll keep you safe here, Frisk. I promise."

Frisk swiftly grew into a child full of adventure and bravery, often exploring everything they could from even the young age of three. They loved naps, pie, and talking to all the monsters in the underground, even making friends with many of them.

Napstablook, a melancholy ghost that often hung around the Ruins due to the lack of monsters, was one of those friends. They often came around to talk with Frisk, and most of the time, their reasons for coming to the Ruins was to see Frisk. Napstablook had even spoke to Toriel a few times (even though the first time they burst into tears and disappeared in embarrassment).

Frisk wasn't a child that spoke much. Sure, they knew how to speak, but they preferred to use actions to convey their messages.

What Frisk lacked in speech, they made up in actions. They ran, walked, and did everything they could to move around in the Ruins and try to make it seem less claustrophobic than it seemed.

Frisk quickly mastered all the puzzles at a young age, and after reading all the books and playing with all the toys over and over, they began to get bored.

At age five, Frisk asked to go into the basement, the forbidden room locked with the key nowhere to be found. When they did, Toriel nearly messed up her pie, and choked on her own breath.

She was silent for an entirety of two minutes before looking down at Frisk with a small, forced smile and saying, "No, my child. Go play in your room. I will fetch you when the pie is done."

Frisk didn't ask again until they were seven.

Later at the age of five, Frisk met a small talking flower. They spoke idly for a while, the flower seeming very kind and helpful to show Frisk around to the forbidden parts of the Ruins. Even though the temptation was strong, Frisk shook their head no, and the flower disappeared.

Frisk didn't see it again for a long time.

The day they turned six, strange things began occurring. Things in their room started moving on its own. Voices started whispered unintelligble things in their head. Shadows and glitchy figures started appearing in the corner of their eyes. Red eyes and demonic grins started showing themselves in their dreams.

Something told them—no, more like something forced them to not tell Toriel.

So they didn't.

The first time Frisk met Chara, they were seven years old.

Chara was a child like them, although Chara claimed to be many years older than Frisk. Chara was a strange-looking one, with deep red eyes and a grin similar to the ones in Frisk's dreams, and red-brown hair that fanned around their face in messy clumps. They wore a striped shirt similar to Frisk's.

The only thing that made them seem the strangest was the fact that their wispy form sometimes glitched, staggering into impossible colors for a split second.

Chara said they were a ghost. They refused to tell Frisk how they died. They said that Frisk was the only one who could see them.

They said they were going to be the best of friends.

One day, Toriel asked Frisk to draw something for her. They drew Chara.

Frisk heard Toriel crying in her room later that night. Chara said to pay no mind.

So they didn't.

One day, Frisk looked in the mirror. Their left eye was a dull red.

It's you! Chara said, their voice echoing in Frisk's head like it always had.

Frisk felt like they were lying.

Toriel saw Frisk's eye. She thought they were hurt.

Frisk told her that their eye had turned that way.

They didn't speak to her for the rest of the day.

Frisk drew pictures of Chara.

Toriel found them.

They always went missing the next day.

Chara was always in their head, telling them things and that they had repressed memories from long ago.

Frisk just listened, mostly not replying at all.

Frisk stopped talking altogether, only listening to Chara's voice inside their head.

Even if Toriel or Napstablook tried to speak to them, they didn't reply.

Frisk used their eyes to speak.

The right eye was slowly turning red.

One day, Chara told Frisk to go into the basement.

Frisk asked Toriel.

She said no.

Frisk asked again.

She said no again, and instructed Frisk to go to their room.

Frisk asked again.

Toriel left the room.

Frisk followed her.

Chara said to keep going.

So they did.

Dust.

Dust was everywhere.

On Frisk's clothes, their hands, their plastic knife.

Toriel was gone, all being left of her being her clothes. Those were covered in dust, too.

Frisk stared, their right eye swirling in an ugly mixture of dull brown and red.

Chara told them they did a good job.

They believed it.

idk what this is its just meh here u go

maybe there will be more idk

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