#undertale chire

You pass through the entryway of your shared penthouse apartment, the doors slamming shut behind you. With a groan, you kick off your shoes and trudge over to the pink, plush couch. You bellyflop onto it, and your mind, which has had your stress amped up to eleven for the past month due to needing to finish your thesis, finally breaks away and puts you in a more vulnerable state.

As you hug one of the many plushies of Mettaton’s box form that lies around the house, the aforementioned robot enters the room. “Well, hello, beau-” Mettaton stops short as he sees you curled up like a cat on the couch, hands clenched around the marketable plush. He slowly walks over to the sofa, gently sitting on it and placing a hand on your back. “Is it one of those small times again, darling?” You nod, your head peeking out for a moment. “I understand. You’ve been so stressed lately and barely had a break.”

“Been hard,” you mumble. “Don’t have much time for care.” The anxiety had taken an effect on your skin and body, with pimples from stress sprouting on your face and your back aching from hours spent bent over your laptop.

“I can tell, lovie. Would you like me to help you feel pretty again?” You nod in response, and Mettaton takes a pillow from the couch and places it on his lap. “Come here, let me braid your hair.” You ease into his touch, allowing his gloved fingers to ease the tension in your scalp and partition your hair. The motions are repetitive and controlled, allowing you to relax more and reduce the worries inside your head. “I understand if you don’t want to talk, darling. Would you like me to share some good news instead?” You reply with a happy hum. “Good!”

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You sift through Mettaton’s walk-in closet, amazed at all the costumes and accessories he’s amassed over the years. “Is there something that catches your eye, beautiful?” The robot follows closely behind, able to reach the hangers above. 

You notice a floor-length pink gown adorned with a giant bow on the back. Your eyes light up with excitement, and you push the other outfits to the side to show it to your carer. “This one!” You bounce on your heels and are excited to try it on.

“Oh, that’s a great choice! Something from the older collection, but it’ll look perfect on you!” Mettaton takes the dress down and holds it up to you. “Anything else to go with it, darling?”

You dash over to where Mettaton keeps his boas and point to a white one made of ostrich feathers. “This too!”

Mettaton chuckles and takes it down for you as well. “Is that all?” You nod, wrapping the boa around your neck. “Don’t get too excited. We have to do your makeup too!” Mettaton helps you change from your MTT Brand robe into the dress, zipping it up in the back before placing a makeup cape around your neck. “Now, what do you want today?” He presses a button on the makeup case, and it opens with a hiss. 

You point at the pink eyeshadow palette and the mascara tucked in next to it. “Oh, that will look absolutely beautiful!” As the robot monster prepares his brushes, you kick your feet in the chair he took out for you. “Don’t move too much, dear. I don’t want to ruin your makeup or the dress.” You hum and still your legs, waiting patiently. “Are you ready, darling?”

“Mhm! Wanna look all pretty,” you chirp.

“Good!” Mettaton coos as he pats your head softly.

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Your classroom was finally cleaned for the evening, with each toy and writing utensil neatly put away. As you were about to leave and lock the door, you couldn’t help but feel pulled towards the bookshelf in the corner. It hosted a variety of books by human and monster authors alike, and the golden binding of one of them caught your eye. You pulled it out and examined the cover. Well, no one else is around. It shouldn’t be too much of an issue if I give it a read.

You settled into the beanbag next to the bookshelf, opened the cover, and read the paragraphs underneath the illustrations to yourself. As you did, you found yourself easing into that younger mindset that you usually reserved for when you were home after you graded all the homework as a way to destress. You found yourself excited for each turn of the page, the childlike happiness comforting you.

The door to the classroom opens, and you hear soft, padded footsteps. “I am sorry to bother you, but I seem to have left my records in one of the classrooms.” Toriel, the principal and founder of the school you worked at, looks at you. You look back at her with wide eyes, not flinching out of your regression, as the Boss Monster was known for her motherly nature. Toriel stops for a moment as if her heart skipped a beat. She blinks twice, then moves to kneel next to you. “I- uh, see you have made yourself quite at home. Would you like me to read to you?” She catches herself. “I am sorry if this is too forward. You just reminded me of… someone.”

“I-It’s ok!” You shift in the beanbag, allowing for some space for Toriel. “You can read to me,” you smile.

Liked this and want more? Check the full Regressuary fic on my AO3 here!