#tourium

*  THE  SUN  BEATS  DOWN  ON  YOU  ALL  .     it  is  too  warm  ,   too  bright  for  his  old  eyes  ,   and  so  he  dresses  for  it  :   thin  clothes  and  dainty  shades  ,   clutched  so  carefully  in  killing  hands  .   all  of  you  now  ,   the  sky  is  full  of  a  song  of  birds  ,   the  grass  waves  with  the  wind  ,   and  how  ,   king  slayer  ,   he  takes  his  role  very  seriously  .

     seriously  ,   that  is  ,   with  bright  apron  and  spatula  in  hand  !

     …  this  is  a  happy  ending  so  few  deserved  ,   and  for  his  jaded  heart  it  swells  :   birds  singing  ,   flowers  blooming  ,   children  playing  as  they  should  .   fire  magic  toils  at  the  pads  of  his  clawed  hands  ,   and  soon  enough  ,   food  will  be  ready  ,   a  gifted  pie  wrapped  in  foil  waiting  to  wash  it  all  down  .

     he  can  not  say  the  affection  is  unappreciated  ,   let  alone  expected  .

          “ … toriel. ”      her  name  ,   it  slips  past  fangs  :   pleasant  and  warm  like  the  summer’s  day  above  him  ,   taken  for  what  it  is  and  never  for  granted  .     you  will  never  deserve  such  kindness  ,   least  of  all  from  her  .     all  the  same  ,   bashful  smile  blooms  from  ancient  maw  :   a  spring  of  adoration  he  will  never  kill  in  that  heart  of  his  .

     enough  of  that  now  ,   he  has  burgers  to  cook  ,   doesn’t  he  ?

*  HER  VOICE  IS  A  GENTLE  BELL  ,   FOR  YOU  THINK  ,   ALL  THE  DANGERS  A  SIREN  WOULD  CALL  :    but  a  bell  ?   oh  ,   tinkling  soft  sound  like  ribbons  in  the  air  (   fluid  ,   slipping  through  bones  ,   lost  amongst  the  chatter  )   ,   for  what  danger  does  the  song  of  her  voice  say  ,   but  the  worst  of  all  ?

     the  worst  dangers  are  those  you  do  not  know  ,   after  all  .

     and  how  easy  it  would  be  to  turn  a  blind  eye  ,   deaf  ear  ,   to  shrug  those  shoulder’s  like  atlas’  DENY  YET  ANOTHER  WEIGHT  UPON  THE  WORLD  PERCHED  THERE  .

     but  you  ,   oh  skeleton  ,   you  are  made  of  bones  like  a  temple  ,   erected  so  many  times  in  praise  to  that  knife  cut  cross  your  chest  ,   time  and  time  again          IF  YOU  WOULDN’T  LISTEN  ,   WHO  WOULD  ?     to  but  those  softest  dangers  ,   spoken  gently  from  the  hearts  of  those  you  loved  yet  have  refused  to  hear  ,   so  many  times  before  ?

        “ * it’s okay. ”     it  must  sound  lame  ,   from  waning  smile  and  tense  hands  :   phalange’s  that  rest  on  queen’s  arm  ,   soft  eyes  that  light  with  the  dark  .   how  long  have  they  been  here  ,   hidden  away  from  the  dead  of  a  world  ?     how  much  longer  ?

     he  tries  for  conviction  ,   soft  in  the  early  hours  of  his  voice  .

        “ * … i get ‘em too. ”     the  nightmares  .   oh  ,   how  they  crawl  up  his  spine  .     (   he  will  not  lie  to  her  ,   but  oh  ,   omission  of  the  truth  ,   how  you  curve  his  words  like  an  old  friend  .   )     “ * probably     not about the… same things, but it’s not just you. ”

     …  how  much  longer  ,   here  locked  in  the  crypt  of  the  mountain  ,   rotting  like  corpses  with  the  queen  ?

     how  much  longer  ?

     “ *     i’m still afraid too. ”

          ah !      his favorite customer in his store.      no doubt here for more of those chocolates that her child seems to take a liking to ,    considering how often she has to buy them.      the kid keeps finding ‘em ,    huh ?      maybe he could give pointers.      he’s gotten good at hiding his own treats from papyrus nowadays.      but he always remembers to share.

          “      i gotta confection to make ,    toriel      ...      ”      he starts ,    as he lifts a kinder surprise egg into view ,    “      ...      i’m still kinder sad that i missed out on that show.      what was it called ?      ”      he grabs a bag of reese’s pieces\.      “      reese’s pieces !      now that’s what it was !      that new murder mystery show that’s been on tv recently.      the ad for it gave me a few      ...      ”      he grabs a snickers bar.      “      snickers.      ”

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  ᚁ ᚆ ᚌ A tranquil silence befalls the fallen king as his gaze falls upon his mother’s face for the unknown-tillionth time. No matter how many times he’d seen her, how many times he told himself that at this point he should be desensitized- he still felt something upon seeing her.

          The one person who’d never given up on him. Even in his home timeline, where everyone else in the underground chastised him and proceeded to kick him out once he returned with immense power. They were afraid of him. But Toriel-

  ᚁ ᚆ ᚌ Perhaps the centuries wore heavy on his mind and he simply couldn’t understand, but she was never afraid.

           Not even in the timelines that were under the worst conditions.

          His stare was, under some chance, possibly cold, icy, or somewhat frightening. He had long considered proper etiquette to be below him. He’d spent his years moping about this world and had been forced into spending more and more beyond his limits, and yet he remained.

         So maybe, above all else, he just seemed...

send “you alright there, buddy?” for my muse to fall asleep on your muse’s shoulder

frankly, he’s a little embarrassed. they’d been sitting quietly – toriel in her chair and sans comfortably perched on the armrest, leaning half against the back and half against her side. they were both reading, as they seemed to do most nights, and though sans usually was the one to be up into the early hours of the morning, this time he’d fallen asleep early. 

which… he really hadn’t meant to do, and he awakes with a start at toriel’s gentle voice, laced with concern. 

he attempts to laugh it off. it’s no big deal right? the fire is warm, he’s comfortable….

he doesn’t even notice that even his book has slipped from his hands and fallen to the ground. he’s that exhausted.

he’s   very   busy .    very   busy !   he’s   so   absolutely   absorbed   in   his   work   that   he   doesn’t   notice !   some   time   even   passes   before   he   even   moves !   when   he   does ,   he   only   tilts   his   head   slightly   to   the   side ,   enough   so   for   the   crown   to   slip   a   bit .    SUBTRACT   THE   PROBABILITY ,   add   in   the   magic   variable—   wait .    his   eyelights   slowly   roll   upward ,   crossing   at   the   top   to   finally   see   a   blurry   golden   something   hanging   from   his   skull .    HE   JERKS ,   making   a   very   loud ,   very   uncomfortable   sound .    WHAT   WAS   ON   HIS   HEAD ? ? ? ? ?   WHAT   THE—   it   slips   further   off   his   head ,   enough   so   that   he   realizes   it   isn’t   a   threat ,   and   he   carefully   reaches   up ,   taking   it   in   his   hands .    a   pair   of   spectral   hands   remove   his   glasses ,   so   he   can   get   a   better   look .