“Tell me the story of how the sun loved the moon so much, he died every night to let her breathe.”
Callisto had simply been straightening up their room, making sure things were in their proper places, when they caught the scent of Toriel’s baking. Whatever the gentle-hearted boss monster was making… It smelled absolutely delightful. Naturally, Callisto was curious.
Not one to leave much unfinished, though, they quickly straightened their bedcovers–the final touch to make their room utterly spotless–and quietly pushed open their door to go investigate the kitchen. Their socked feet made a soft sound on the floor, hardly noticeable. Callisto was a pretty quite kid, anyway.
They entered the main room just outside of the kitchen, only to find it completely dark, save a bit of fire magic in the palm of Toriel’s paw.
“Toriel? What’s going on?” If they were going to be honest, they were a little nervous. The shadows cast a bit of a menacing look on the monster that’d been their caretaker for the last few weeks.
@curiositics
Toriel let her paws drop. Finally, she was done. Callisto had only mentioned their birthday in passing, but Toriel knoew that children enjoyed ecelbrating something which was truly theirs- a birthday. She had just finished the decorations, and went to go check on the cake she had baked.
Cakes were not Toriel’s speciality. She pulled out a tray with the cake base, and got out the icing that would go on it.
‘Everyone likes vanilla, do that not?’ she asked herself. The spiders had given her this recipe; it was the only recipe they had that wasn’t spider based. Thankfully, no spiders at all were needed for Callisto’s cake. She pulled out a spoon from a drawer and began to put the icing on the cake. Toriel chuckled to herself- she was really ‘caking’ it on.
She finished pretty quickly and slipped the cake onto a large, cracked plate. Carefully, she took it out into the living room, and placed it on the table. She swore she could hear a door creaking, so she quickly extinguished the lights in the room and lit a single, small magic fire above one of her paw-fingers.
(All of the posts that I saw had too many notes, so let’s make a new one!)
It occured to Callisto--perhaps a bit belatedly--that they really shouldn’t have gone on ahead without Gaster. He was much more confident, smart, composed--
“H-Hey, come on, just listen. Please,” They held their notebook out, open to their notes. “Look, it’s--I have a plan, sir--”
Asgore didn’t even look like he’d heard them. Callisto threw themself to the ground to attempt to avoid Asgore’s trident, though they did end up with a rather nasty gash on their bicep and a complimentary tear in the sleeve of their sweater. Their journal was dropped, loose pages scattering across the bed of flowers. They first grabbed at the wound, but all that did was get blood all over their hands.
Callisto still scrambled to gather up what they could, and stood again, eyes watery with tears. They took a shaky breath, sniffling a bit and readjusting their glasses. It was their turn to make a move, after all. Quivering, they flipped back to where they had furiously scribbled all of Gaster’s important points--why this was more efficient, why it was better, what good it’d do in the long run--and took another breath. A few stray tears slipped out, but Callisto dashed them away quickly.
Gaster would not be shaking in his boots.
Gaster would’ve convinced Asgore to discuss this over a steaming cup of tea by now.
I’m going to die. The thought was sudden; unwelcome. Callisto pushed it away.
“You s-see, if you would a-allow me to explain... Y-You don’t h-have to hurt anyone, sir.” Their voice cracked, trembling. They were terrified, and it was clear for everyone to see. Being so easily read was only making them more afraid, though. Would that make them lose their credibility?
“I can just g-go back home, and bring back my foster parents, and... And...”
I’m going to die.
The hesitation was all Asgore needed to make his move again, this time opening another deep wound on their calf. Callisto dropped to their knees, but kept the journal clutched tight to their chest.
“W-Wait,” They whimpered softly. “Please,”
Dark red was staining the buttercups underneath them. They were going to die.
The sudden sound of frantic footsteps turned their head, back towards the long hallway they’d come down to get here. In the tall archway--
“Gaster?” Journal dropping, Callisto dragged themself to their feet, turning their back to Asgore. They were so relieved. He was here, he was going to tell Asgore it was all okay, and Callisto could go home. They could fix this all.
“You... You came for m-me?”
Three metal points, coated with a viscous, red substance--was that their blood?--sprouted from their chest. Callisto’s eyes flickered from their friend briefly to look down. It didn’t look real. Confused, they looked back up to Gaster. They couldn’t read his expression. Asgore must’ve yanked back on the trident because now they were lying on their back with three gaping holes in their chest, struggling to breathe. Gasping for air, their hand started to look for their journal. It must’ve fallen nearby--
“Callisto,” Oh, no. No no no no.
"Oh... Oh my god,” There was a pressure on their chest. He must’ve been trying to stanch the bleeding. Callisto had a vague feeling of guilt; blood stains would be hard to get out of his white fur. At least it’d grow out.
“Sorry,” It came out garbled. It hurt. Everything hurt. Callisto was afraid.
There were dozens of assurances that it was okay, that it wasn’t their fault, but they started crying anyways. They should’ve listened.
“Am I dying?”
“No, no, you aren’t dying. We’ll fix you up, Little Moon.” Callisto let out a short sob. He was wrong. Weakly, they pushed his paws off their chest--the blood was just soaking through anyways--and gripped a furry paw tightly in their hand, trying to look him directly in the eyes for once. Their breath rattled in out out raggedly, and when they tried to speak again, all that came out was blood. They sucked in a breath; they sucked in blood. They couldn’t breathe, they couldn’t breathe. They struggled, free hand gripping at the bloody buttercups underneath them, as if by holding onto something solid, something real, they could stay. They had to stay.
They had to tell him--
Callisto’s eyes rolled back, tensed muscles gradually loosening.
Their blood-stained hand let go of Gaster’s.
for my entire life i wondered why a dragonfly has an ass thats like 8 times as long as their body and tonight i finally felt compelled to investigate and as it turns out dragonflies breath thru their ass and can shoot water out of their butt hole to make them fly faster…….so…… i really did not expect that to be the answer but there it is
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