#meme.memories

MEMORY MEME | ❥ a childhood memory

Occurs before these two previous fills: 1 2. Please take note of content warnings.

***

They hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. They’d been playing alone behind the throne when the doors had opened and the King had walked in. For a moment they considered running to him for affection, but then Dr. Gaster had walked in after him and...they hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.

“No doubts about it,” said Gaster, expression neutral. “Crossing the Barrier would require at minimum a single human and monster soul.”

“And of the two, only one kind can be easily removed from its body.” Asgore shook his head, eyes downcast. They couldn’t see his face. “This information must never leave this room.”

“But -”

“No.” Asgore’s tone was harsher than they’d ever heard before. “Do you not see what this knowledge would do? Many will clamor for her soul, she’d never know the peace we promised she could have as long as she lived with us.”

She. Frisk knew they were talking about them, and their soul...that red thing the monsters drew so easily from their chest. They knew how much their adopted family wanted to see the surface, though they took care not to be obvious about it around them.

All they needed was that thing, just one of it, to cross the Barrier...?

“...you would need seven to break it,” Gaster was saying.

“And I swore that I would not -”

“Use mine.”

The two monsters stopped, and turned, slowly, to where they’d crawled out from behind the throne. Through the red glow of their soul, they could see the corner of Gaster’s mouth twitching, and Asgore’s brow furrowing deeply.

“My child...” started Asgore, but Frisk cut him off by shoving their soul out in his direction. He jerked away, as if he’d been struck. “P-Please, my child, return your soul to yourself.”

“No,” said Frisk. They didn’t understand why he would refuse...wasn’t it obvious? “You need it more than I do! You and Toriel and Asriel...! Take it and go and get more and...and...and then you can all see the sky again!”

MEMORY MEME | ↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

“Asriel, y-you have to promise me,” said Frisk, taking their brother’s hands in their own. He froze.

“I - But - It hurts you so much, I can’t -” He looked as if he were about to cry. Frisk had grown accustomed to spotting the warning signs for such. They squeezed his hands, holding on if only because they could feel the beginnings of another bout of pain.

“We’ve come this far,” they said. It hurt - it felt as if something were about to burst from their stomach. “Stick...stick to the plan. No matter what...even if I...”

Their hands slipped from his, cold and shaking. When they looked up, his gaze on them hardened, and he stooped to pick up another buttercup.

MEMORY MEME | ♣ - a fading memory

Their eyes widened at the sight of the plaza turning as gray as the stone church behind them, the sudden downpour of rain consuming the grass and trees, and filling their ears with a cascade of noise. Juanito squeezed their hand, as they toed at the line the rain refused to cross. Grown ups mumbled things too softly for them to make out.

Out the corner of their eye, one of their classmates was inching closer and closer to that line. Frisk grinned as he evidently made a decision, and then he was charging out into the rain, followed closely by his parents’ shouts. Frisk took a moment to squeeze Juanito’s hand in return, before pulling their hand out of his grip and dashing forward as well and jumping into the nearest puddle. Out here past the shade, beyond that line where they’d been told to stay inside so the rain could not reach them, the scent of wet grass was all the stronger and their vision somehow much clearer.

“Ay nako, magkasakit ka!” Their mother’s voice cut through the noise easily enough, a warning of catching a cold, of a week of lying on Juanito’s mattress with a cold towel on their forehead while Rafael went to pick up their homework for them. They heard their father’s rumbling laughter as they jumped for the next puddle, then his low voice rolling through the air, “Bahala na ‘yan, basta masaya siya, diba?” They laughed, mirth filling them at the suggestion to leave them be, to let them play as long as they were happy. It was all they needed.

Asriel’s hand–softer than Juanito’s, they noted–patting at their face drew Frisk out of their thoughts. They were ten years old, sitting with their new brother under an umbrella propped up against a rock. Distant stones twinkled as false stars, almost as pretty as the real ones, while water poured down over them from rock and dirt rather than from clouds. It took them a moment to remember that their father on the surface did not quite have that rumbling laugh like Asgore’s, or that their mother’s voice was lower and louder than Toriel’s, but whatever it had truly sounded like was beyond their reach now.

“I was just wondering what those stones would look like up close,” they said, and any worry in Asriel’s features melted away.

“I like them where they are,” he said.

Frisk glanced up briefly, then leaned against him and closed their eyes. “I guess they are better up there than down here.”

🌼 - Favorite toy

6 years old.

“Pretty cool, huh?” said Juanito as Frisk waved the wooden sword. It was a little heavy and big in their small hands, but it was nothing like the less interesting toys they had at home.

“Very cool!” they said, a wide grin on their face.

“Hoy, Juanito,” said a voice from behind Frisk. They turned around and pointed the wooden sword at the intruder, which turned out to be Rafael, standing there with an annoyed look on his face. “C'mon, nay is getting impatie…what is that.”

“Let’s fight, Raffie!” announced Frisk, prodding his thigh with the sword. He made a face in response, then looked up at his elder brother, ignoring the dismayed look Frisk gave him in turn.

“Kuya, are you crazy? If nay sees her with that…”

“It’s a gift from Migo for our cute sister, but we can pretend it’s yours,” said Juanito, grinning widely and reaching down to pat Frisk’s head. “And we’re just letting her try it out. C'mon, mom’s waiting. Hang on to the sword, Frisk.”

“Fine,” said Rafael, rolling his eyes as he turned away. As he started back down the path he’d come from, he mumbled, “Better not let mom hear you call her that.”

Frisk stuck their tongue out at his retreating back, earning them a laugh from Juanito.

Send me an age and my muse will tell you one thing that happened to them when they were that age that they will never forget.

Send me an age and my muse will tell you one thing that happened to them when they were that age that they will never forget.

Thirteen...That was when I first cut my hair. 

I know it doesn’t seem like much but, prior to that, I had very long hair that caused me a lot of stress. After much begging (seeing how I was banned from sharp objects at the time), mom finally lent me a pair of scissors and, under her watchful eye, I chopped off everything past my ears.