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#usdd
nyctocollective · 6 months
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shout out to all the systems that formed from “unusual” trauma or trauma that's never talked about in this community - being bullied, sibling abuse or abuse from someone that's not your parent, near death experience(s), medical abuse, and anything and everything else
you're all valid. the child's brain is incredibly fragile and everyone is traumatized differently. just because your trauma wasn't from a parent, doesn't make you any less valid.
i wish more people spoke about the other sources of trauma
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My parents when pregnant with me (probably): We don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl. We just want a healthy child
Me: *is none of the above*
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sysboxes · 21 days
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[Text: This user is an UDD system. UDD: Unspecified Dissociative Disorder]
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[Text: This user is an UDD system.]
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[Text: This user is an USDD system. USDD: Unspecified Dissociative Disorder]
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[Text: This user is an USDD system.]
Like/Reblog if you save or use
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ijustwannamakeemojis · 4 months
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[ID: Nine small pixel hearts of various system flags in order being Endogenic, DID, Median, Parasian, Mesoian, Diversian, USDD, Aplural and OSDD. End ID]
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cdd-swag-bracket · 2 months
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Simon Petrikov from Adventure Time/Fionna & Cake-U(S)DD (headcanon)
"In Fionna & Cake it is shown that he has an entire world full of sentient people living in his head. That world is directly affected by the removal of his magic.
Also his whole thing with the Ice King and the way he talks about him is rather system like as well."
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stimiez · 1 year
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stimboard for our headmate Kevin cause we love Kevin🍬
🧁 • 🍧 • 🍨 • 🍭 • 🐱 • 🍭 • 🍨 • 🍧 • 🧁
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youtube
If I get asked what I feel like when I dissociate during my evaluation imma jus’ show them this video
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mewsys · 1 year
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i think fictives r so cool !! i love fictives that aren't anything like their source or remember their source differently. i love fictive heavy systems !! i love non human fictives and fictives who are from the past and fictives who hate their source. you're all so awesome !!!
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sinmojis · 2 years
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Angel Alter!! Use this to express your Angel alter! ( sorry for no less detailed one )  Like our emojis? Follow us for more!  
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wispforever · 11 months
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nebulasexual · 1 year
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Hey y'all, which UDD flag should I use? It's for a headcanon.
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sysboxes · 8 days
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[Text: This user is currently questioning if they have USDD.]
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[Text: This user is currently questioning if they’re a(n) USDD system.]
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[Text: This user is currently questioning if they have UDD.]
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[Text: This user is currently questioning if they’re a(n) UDD system.]
Like/Reblog if you save or use!
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possibility-1nk · 1 year
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ask game for systems:
How did you find out the term dissociative identity disorder? Was it through a movie? A video game? Or did you dive into psychology and ended up finding the term?
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cdd-swag-bracket · 2 months
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Heart // Mind // Soul // Whole from Chonny's Charming Chaos Compendium (Tally Hall cover album)-U(S)DD (heavily coded)
"Although Chonny has stated that it was not intentionally relating to any CDD, the story of CCCC revolves around the fact that Whole keeps splitting into three parts, The Heart, The Mind and The Soul Heart and Mind do not get along, fighting for control. Soul is referred to as ‘The Host’ and wants Heart and Mind to stfu and stop fighting.
The story includes certain things that would make more sense if you think of it in an innerworld. Such as Heart having no eyes yet being able to function pretty well and even tried to shoot Mind.
Heart holds emotions, the good and the bad. Heart is depressed. Mind holds logic and productivity. Mind doesn’t think Heart pulls his weight. Soul is the grey area, not heart and mind try to convince Soul to be on their side while Soul simply wants to be Whole again."
P.S sorry the editing of the pictures are bad
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autisticundertale · 2 years
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What A Lie (chap 1-6)
Omg I cant believe we forgot to post our fanfiction here. Now yall have to wait for the next chapters like our DA followers
Our writing is kinda garbage, fair warning
(Contains Chariskriel, Flowiskra, Friskid, Sansgoriel, Sansby, Papyton, and Alphyne. If you have a problem with those ships, this fic aint for you.)
---------------------------
Chapter One
(Tw: non-intentional self-harm)
Asriel had grown used to the warmth that was provided from the company of Chara and Frisk’s bodies pressed into him. It had become unnatural to not feel their breathing and hear their sighs of content as he slept.
It had become tradition for his counterpart, Flowey, to snake vines amongst them as they lay asleep. It was even a casual experience if MK decided that he wished to join them, and snuggled at Frisk’s legs, using their thighs as a pillow.
Years of this comfortable nighttime tradition had chipped away at his ability to sleep alone. Alone, he was much too cold, the bed much too empty. Even having just Flowey in bed with him helped, despite the two of them typically avoiding one another to an extent. Asriel couldn’t remember the last time he had been without the warm embrace of his lovers, the viney hugs of his counterpart, or the soft warmth of his friend sleeping at the bottom of the bed.
So, when he felt a chilly breeze rub against him as he slept, he couldn’t help but wonder why his darling spouses were up before him. Slowly, the other sensations flooded in as he awoke; no blanket, no pillow, no clothes. Just dirt covering his lower half in an uncomfortable but sturdy pile. He wondered why there would be dirt in his room, trying to rationalize it in his head as he struggled to open his eyes.
His eyes opened not to the comfortable peace of his bedroom, but rather a large open space built with ancient bricks, with occasional golden flowers lining the walls. He knew this place well; after all, Frisk would come here to reminisce on the past, and he had had to come get them from here a number of times over the years, especially when things were hard at their work as ambassador.
He couldn’t recall coming here last night. Maybe he dissociated again, it happened every few weeks as far as he knew, but as long as someone came here with him, they could fill him in on what he didn’t remember.
It wasn’t until Asriel stretched- well, attempted to stretch- that he fully realized that he didn’t have arms. And then, as he looked around the room again, he realized he was quite small; too small. And suddenly, that feeling of dirt on his lower half made sense.
He’s a flower. This caught him off guard, but it didn’t alarm him. Sometimes, he and Flowey would re-merge when one of their bodies were struggling with something, or when one of them felt unsafe. Depending on the intensity of the situation, it could end up with a Flower-like body, a monster-like body, or a combination.
Asriel stretched his vines and the roots under the dirt. He decided to call forward his soul, just to check and see how it was doing with the merge, but after a few attempts he realized that nothing was happening. This was when the gravity of where he was and his situation finally hit him.
He was too small. Sure, he was a flower, but even Flowey had grown over the years. He was around the size of a young sunflower last Asriel checked. There’s no way he’d be this small unless he was a kid again.
Oh, God, no. The walls, the room, the place. It didn’t look the way he remembered. No, the flowers along the edges were young and clearly trimmed. Nobody came to the underground and tended for the plants anymore.
He started hyperventilating. This couldn’t be real. Why would it be? It didn’t make sense for him to be back here, as a soulless flower, after twenty years of living on the surface with his family and lovers. Frisk and Chara resetting after they had just got engaged makes no sense. Why would they want to start over? They had been so excited for the wedding, so proud of all the progress, so scared of the idea of losing what they had- and wait, was he feeling love still? If he’s soulless, how could he still love them? Did maybe a piece of his soul remain even after everything reset?
He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think clearly. Everything was a muddled mess of noisy thoughts in his head, and he couldn’t help but cry. A nightmare, this is a nightmare, right? A misunderstanding, perhaps? A dissociative fugue that’s causing visions?
All his doubts that this reality is false melted away when he saw Frisk – young, frail, recently-fallen – walk through the door. He wanted to call to them, to beg them for an explanation, to beg them to fix this somehow but he was incapable of making the words come out. He just stared at Frisk wordlessly as they sat in front of him with a blank expression. They weren’t looking at him with the usual affection he could read. Their face…it was like an imposter.
Vaguely, somewhere in his panicked and confused mind, he wondered if Chara was also here as a spirit that he could not see. Based on what Chara had told him about that before, he assumed so. He wondered if they were trying to reach out to him, if they too felt confused and afraid, and he felt his vines curl uncomfortably at the thought of them being helpless like him.
Silence passed. He didn’t know if it was two minutes or an hour before Frisk quietly stood up and walked past him. He was baffled. How could they just walk away, with nothing to say? Theres no way they couldn’t remember him, not when they looked at him with that much understanding. How could Frisk –the sweet, compassionate, ever-loving ambassador for monsterkind – ignore the distress and clear wrongness of restarting after over twenty years of progress. He couldn’t accept this silence.
He died a little inside when he couldn’t bring himself to make a sound. This was his fiancée, for Gods sake, but he couldn’t even tell them to “wait” or ask “what is happening?” Pathetic. He felt the tears welling up and realized that he is – once again – a scared little crybaby.
He couldn’t bring himself to move until they were out of view. He slowly lowered himself underground, shifting amongst the tunnels underneath the dirt to follow them. He wracked his brain for something, anything, to say. He felt so disconnected, almost convinced this was just another one of his dreams. There was no way he could believe in this reality, not after all the promises and joy Frisk and Chara had given when they abandoned resets.
He half-heartedly wondered if his parents – if everyone else – could remember those twenty years. This reset…something wasn’t right about it. It didn’t erase his sense of love and affection, not entirely, so clearly it didn’t reset correctly. He guessed it probably had something to do with the fact that it was left untouched for two decades.
He realized brokenly that his face ached. He used a vine to touch it, and realized that while thinking, he had torn off one of his smaller petals, and was now leaking DETERMINATION and plant-fluids. He hadn’t even noticed himself ripping it off, hadn’t even realized it, but even now he couldn’t feel anything for his torn petal. He could hardly feel anything at all. He was so numb, and scared, and his whole body was shaking – when did it start shaking? – and he wanted to tear everything down, to wake up from this nightmare, to scream, to rip apart anyone and anything in his way, to…to…
Everything in his mind stopped when he realized how much dust was in the air as he followed them. How much dust was trailing along the old puzzles and empty roads. And everything collapsed like a pile of heavy bricks on his aching heart.
His beautiful fiancée- Frisk, his sweet princess, who had so much compassion in their heart- was killing. Murdering. Clearing everyone in their path. And most likely, Chara – his sweet, snarky, relaxed prince – was helping them do it, as they had helped them do everything else in their many years together.
There was nothing he could bring himself to do except scream. Nothing he could control about himself as his vines smashed and broke every puzzle, every path, every wall around him. This was a nightmare…
…And he was never waking up.
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Chapter Two
Sans couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this uncomfortable. He had just woken up, unsure of the world around him (since he hadn’t exactly opened his eyes yet,) but everything was just so…terrible. Feeling too lazy to open his eyes yet (more like too emotionally drained from all the political drama that had been happening recently between humans and monsters within the last few weeks) he just decided to try and sort out why he felt so off mentally.
The bed, which he usually delighted to sleep in, felt uncharacteristically small and lumpy. Grillby made it a point to make the bed for Sans every night, ever since they bought an apartment together (with Mettaton and Papyrus taking the apartment next door that was connected to theirs) and Sans had grown used to that comforting softness. Chara had knit him the softest blanket in the world which – for some Godforsaken reason – wasn’t on him right now.
The air felt colder than usual. Sure, their AC wasn’t perfect and tended to screw up, but it was Summer, and he was living with Grillby. Things were always at least a bit warm, even when Grillby was well-controlled with his temperature.
The room felt and sounded like it lacked proper ventilation, and it stunk of Garbage, which he knew was a red flag considering either Grillby or Papyrus would take out the garbage at night. It almost made him open his eyes and investigate, but that wasn’t the most concerning part of this.
His soul felt fragile. His body felt unwashed, dirty, heavy, and tense. His head was pounding in a hangover – which is impossible, considering he hasn’t drank since Toriel pulled him out of his rutt and set him up with a doctor almost ten years ago.
Reality wasn’t setting in. He refused to open his eyes, refused to CHECK himself, refused to accept this. It just couldn’t be real, he wouldn’t let it be real, he would lie here with his eyes shut forever if it meant he didn’t have to think about this anymore. He couldn’t bare to open his eyes and look around this old mess that he had forbidden himself to fall into again. He couldn’t bare to open his eyes if there wasn’t sunlight shining through his window. He couldn’t get up, couldn’t leave this room, if he wouldn’t walk out to see Papyrus, Mettaton, Grillby, Toriel, and Asgore sitting at the table with a feast that could fill him for weeks.
He couldn’t handle the idea of betrayal from the people he considered his best friends. The people he considered his children. Couldn’t handle the idea that they had taken away his happiness and that nobody else but them, him, and maybe Asriel would remember.
He lay there, disconnecting from reality – from his body, from his thoughts, from his emotions and pain, from everything – for about an hour before someone entered the room and called out to him, forcing everything that was distant to absorb straight back into his body.
“…S…Sans?” It was Alphys. Alphys’s voice rang clear as day, and Sans knew with a rush that if anyone could fix this – if he had any hope of being happy and safe again – she was the person to go to. He forced himself up as quickly as he could, almost falling over, and Alphys ran to catch him from tumbling. One good look at her and he could tell she had been sobbing probably for a majority of the day. Maybe…maybe she remembered too? Maybe he wasn’t alone?
“S-Sans! O-Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re okay!” she hugged him tightly and he couldn’t help but to squeeze her as hard as he could. It helped him feel connected to his body, helped him stop from drifting away again.
“alphys, whats going on?” he croaked out pitifully and almost cringed at his own voice.
“E-everyone has been s-so worried about you! T-Toriel d-didn’t know if you could- If you’d…s-survive this again.”
Sans felt a wave of hope and nausea simultaneously roll through him. Toriel remembered him. She had to. Meanwhile, Alphys lifted Sans up (she always had been stronger than people assumed from all the heavy lifting robotics work can require) and carried him, running down the stairs, as if trying to get out of here as soon as possible.
“c-can…can you explain whats…g-going on?” Sans forced himself to say, his voice sounding so terribly torn. Alphys nodded and began her ramblings.
“We all woke up down here with our memories. Everyone has been gathering at Asgore’s castle while we try and figure out what to do. T-though admittedly, theres a few people h-harder to find…Papyrus, for one, isn’t here…I already checked, and Mettaton is gathering everyone from the rest of Snowdin s-so that’s helpful. A-Asgore says that worst case scenario, i-if we cant fix the timeline, we just would…need to find Flowey, give him the human souls a-and our souls temporarily, and have him break the barrier again…b-but, er, w-we haven’t found him. Toriel couldn’t…s-search very far into the ruins f-for him. S-so, f-for now, we’re just…evacuating.”
It took a minute for Sans to process that she said ‘evacuating’ and implied that something dangerous was in the ruins that stopped Toriel from venturing further. Before he could even find the words to ask, Alphys seemed to realize that he needed context.
With a shaking voice, and a broken sound cracking up between the words, she gasped out “F-Frisk and Chara a-are…k-killing e-everyone in there r-right now…”
The pain that shot through his soul was overwhelming. He could feel his soul crack, could feel a burning sensation shiver through his burns. His HoPe dropped, which was ridiculous considering it had been reverted back to being 1, and now was a pitiful 0.5. He was devastated.
And he felt as though his soul might shatter completely when he realized that Papyrus being missing could be even worse than he initially thought.
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Chapter Three
(Tw: baby-loss/sorta-miscarriage)
Undyne could feel the smile on her face tugging against her dimples. Her cheeks hurt from how hard she was smiling, but there was no way she could stop. Alphys was being just far too precious, cuddling into the lump of her pregnant stomach, half-asleep and mumbling adorable nonsense to their unborn child.
Their son Justice was cuddling against Undyne’s legs. She could see his adorable sails fluttering in his sleep. When he softly snored, she almost thought Alphys had squeeled, because the sound were just that similar. She had to hold back laughter as to not wake up her gentle family.
Undyne closed her eyes, whispering a soft “g’night” to her family. She could do anything as long as she had her wife and kids. Anything at all.
When she awoke, the warmth of her family was nowhere to be found.
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Mettaton sighed as he carried Undyne through the castle, pacing back and forth. She had been unresponsive for the last few hours, the poor thing. Her house had been completely devastated and destroyed when he and Alphys had found her…not that it was a surprise that she had fallen into a derealized fugue of devastation after initially tearing everything apart.
He couldn’t imagine the pure grief of waking up knowing both her born and unborn children had been ripped away from her and that it was likely that they’d never exist again.
Alphys had said (through her own grieving sobs) that she probably would be unresponsive for a while. Souls were oversensitive during pregnancy, and this was a devastating enough experience even without that sensitivity.
Mettaton was concerned for her and Alphys. The two had been the dearest of friends to him over the years, and he owed them both so much. Alphys had made his dreams come true, Undyne had given his dear boyfriend Papyrus so many opportunities and had blessed him with friendship, and both of them together had helped Mettaton grow as a person and had supported him throughout all his tours and shows on the surface.
Plus, he loved their son so much; he became the honorary uncle to him, and Justice adored dress up, so he got to share all his fashion types with the young enthusiastic axolotl. Losing that child had his soul aching in ways it never had before. He tried to assure himself that it would be fine, as long as Alphys was alive she could fix the timeline…but he wasn’t sure if he believed that, honestly.
He just hoped Papyrus was okay. He wondered if Alphys had found him by now and would bring him back. He wanted to see that cute face, even if this wasn’t exactly the most romantic setting. It would help ease his soul’s devastating ache, that’s for sure. Papyrus was great at making hopeless situations feel lighter.
Mettatons legs were tiring, so he decided to stop his pacing and sit on the floor with the rest of the survivors that had been brought in thus far. The castle was slowly filling up, and he doubted he would have much room to pace if they kept flooding in like this.
He couldn’t help but hope Frisk and Chara burned in hell if they were doing this out of free will. Those two kids had been such the light of his life, freeing him from the underground and letting his dreams of praise and love from humankind become true. They had visited him often, called him “uncle”, asked him to dress them up, invited him to their prom dances and graduation, enthusiastically asked him to help them pick out their engagement rings when Asriel and Flowey had declared they wanted to get married to the two…they truly were sadistic if they did this just for the fun of it.
No point wasting more time thinking about it. He closed his eyes and decided now would be a good time for a nap. This whole ordeal was exhausting and he needed his beauty sleep.
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Chapter Four
Papyrus’s bones felt unbearably cold. The snow wasn’t the cause, of course; it didn’t matter how hot or cold the atmosphere was, since temperature wasn’t a problem for skeleton’s unless it was directly touching their souls…then the temperature was an extreme annoyance...but clothes easily covered that problem up!
No, the chill wasn’t from the weather. It was from the absolute terror spiking through Papyrus’s very essence of being. Not that the great Papyrus liked to admit he was afraid – it made him worry people would believe he couldn’t handle himself, when he knew he very well could! – but he knew deep down that this was the scariest thing to ever happen to him.
He had been hiding out near the exit to the Ruins, waiting for – minutes? Hours? He couldn’t even tell anymore – for Frisk and Chara to walk through. He wanted to talk to them, to ask what was wrong, because he knew full well that they wouldn’t do this normally. He just knew it!
Sans was probably worried sick about him (if he were even awake yet) and Papyrus admittedly felt very guilty for leaving him, but he couldn’t have stayed with him! Sans would have insisted to come along or would have stopped him entirely, and both options were just unacceptable. He just hoped Sans would find the note he left on the table for him and would understand that it was in his best interest to go stay with Toriel and Grillby at the castle.
Mettaton was going to be fine, he knew that fully. He was fully capable of keeping calm in the worst of situations and was a very independent man (which Papyrus found very attractive.)
He would do what he could to help everyone in Papyrus’s part, Papyrus was certain of it. Though he was definitely going to give him the biggest of kisses and the most genuine apology for leaving him to worry after sorting this all out.
He was so lost in thought that he missed the door opening. He only noticed it once it shut strongy, shaking the wall that Papyrus was leaning against. He shot to his feet, stumbling to follow after Frisk’s quick pace. They were holding a Toy Knife coated in dust (Papyrus ignored the sick feeling that shot through his soul and pushed away the thoughts of what that knife had done) and from the little of their face he could see, had an…empty expression. It was so unlike them, Papyrus almost wondered if that was even a human that passed through.
Before Papyrus could even speak, Frisk’s voice echoed in the winter air. It was light, almost indistinguishable, and held a light sprinkle of emotion (what kind, Papyrus couldn’t tell.)
“Sans? Papyrus?”
Papyrus’s soul soared. Was Frisk looking for his and Sans’s help to fix this? They always had gone to one of the brothers for assistance when they knew they had done something that had hurt someone – Papyrus knew it was because he and Sans were the best at giving apologies, considering they both used to have many fights when they were younger, oftentimes with one another.
“FRISK! TURN AROUND! I AM HERE TO ASSIST YOU!” he called, trying to sound confident, though internally he was wondering if he should have come out here at all. He wasn’t naïve. This could be a very dangerous choice. He knew he’d have to be ready to fight if things were to go badly.
Frisk turned. Papyrus's soul stopped when he saw their face.
He had seen Chara’s “creepy face” a few times, but this wasn’t the same thing. Not even close to it. The light reflecting off their face from the crystals across the cave ceiling, mixed with the shadows of trees, illuminated their face in a very ominous way, which only made the expression so much more disturbing. One eye glowed red, while the other was like the essence of darkness…as if a black hole had opened within their head, desiring to consume, to drain all life that was left.
It paralyzed him with fear. His soul started pounding so heavily it gave him a headache. He couldn’t place why this expression was so…soul-wracking.
Papyrus stumbled back, losing all his metaphorical nerves. That thing (he couldn’t even bring himself to think of them as Frisk) stepped forward. The smile remained unnaturally calm, and their eyes were unblinking. They stared at him. Stared so intently it made Papyrus’s bones tremble and he could hear them clacking together.
A minute passed. Two, three, four. Still, that being had yet to blink a single time. They also hadn’t stepped closer. It was an uncomfortable, terrifying silence that hung in the air between Papyrus and the being.
Papyrus slowly and shakily pushed his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone in the slowest pace possible as to not intimidate the being. Suddenly, without warning, they stepped forward and he jumped so intensely that his phone fumbled to the ground and plopped into the snow.
Why can’t I speak? Why can’t I step forward? Why can’t I run? Why didn’t I tell anyone I was coming out here?
Those questions repeated in his head over an over as he was approached. His body felt light and unnatural. He felt ready to pass out. It was as if the creature being closer made it harder to control himself.
He tried to yell for help. His voice worked, if hardly, as he called for his brother. It was hardly a shout, but if Sans were anywhere on this path, he would be able to hear his voice echoing.
Papyrus collapsed. The creature knelt down. His eyesockets began to feel too heavy, but he was holding out as long as he could; the creature seemed to be waiting for him to fall asleep.
He was able to hold out for three minutes, all the while hoping and praying Sans – or anyone, for that matter – was near.
But nobody came.
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Chapter Five
I’m such a coward.
Those words rang repeatedly in Asriel’s head as he trembled and hid underground. His leaves were crumbled together, which honestly kind of hurt, but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else. He had never been the brave and confrontational side.
Flowey was usually the one doing the difficult stuff, but for some reason he had been silent. Usually, he could hear Floweys thoughts, but…Flowey didn’t seem to be awake. Maybe not even here. And Asriel was absolutely terrified, even more so at the idea that his other half may not come to be the hero this time.
Asriel never thought he’d miss Floweys thoughts. Usually, Flowey’s thoughts intermingling with his was overwhelming and annoying. But he would be glad to hear any comment, even an insult, from the other half of his soul.
Right. His soul. The soul he couldn’t summon or see, but could feel. Maybe that’s why Flowey wasn’t around. Maybe the timeline was too corrupted to process that Asriel and Flowey aren’t sharing a mind anymore.
Maybe Flowey is erased completely.
Asriel couldn’t help the nausea that rolled over him at that thought. He threw up, expelling what little water and magic was in his vine. Flowey was like a brother to him. No, Flowey was more than that. Flowey was quite literally a piece of his mind and the thought of him being…gone forever…
Asriel dry-heaved, his vines trembling and petals wilting. He was still desperately hoping this was a nightmare, but already knew that hope wouldn’t help him in this situation.
He wondered if his parents were alive. If his friends were alive. If Chara, too, was hopeless.
Maybe all of this was Chara’s idea.
He internally snapped. He wanted to rip his head off for thinking that. As if his brain were someone else, he growled at it.
“Chara isn’t like that! They made a mistake when we were kids, but they just needed help. Which they got. They are someone I trust. Someone I love.”
So you think Frisk is like that, then? That Frisk is a disgusting, horrible, dirty killer? A traitor?
Asriel practically jumped up, forgetting that he was underground, and smacked his head so hard against the dirt around him that his petal began to bleed.
“NO! Frisk isn’t- they aren’t- CHARA AND FRISK ARE MY BEST FRIENDS!”
If not Chara or Frisk, then who is the murderous tyrant?
His own internal question stumped him. His mind really was asking good questions. Important questions. Questions he couldn’t find an answer to.
Who is the cause of this?
Frisk was the only person with the ability to reset. Unless someone was born with a Determination soul that was stronger or equal to theirs…but even being born with Determination as a main trait was excruciatingly rare. That, paired with having enough DT to beat Frisk’s DT? It had to be impossible.
Plus, that wouldn’t explain why Frisk would suddenly go murdering people....
Asriel was going to continue contemplating, but he suddenly realized he couldn’t move his body. He could only move his eyes. It was like…
Blue magic. Asriel felt enthralled. Someone was using blue magic on him, someone had found him, someone was alive!!
He was pulled up from under the dirt and started to sob in joy when he saw who it was that had found him.
Papyrus. PAPYRUS!!
He smiled at Papyrus, too emotional to speak. Papyrus, too, said nothing. He just…hugged him. And in that moment, Asriel prayed and begged to God that everything was going to be okay.
Because he wasn't going to be alone in this.
His most trusted friend had come to save him.
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Chapter Six
Toriel was furious.
Maybe she should’ve felt grief, confusion, betrayal, or terror. But she just couldn’t feel anything other than anger for the current situation.
She was so angry with her children. The children she raised to be respectful, dignified, loving, and kind. The children who had enthusiastically promised to never hurt anyone again. The children whom she dined with every night, excitedly discussing their wedding plans.
She desperately wanted to understand why they decided this was a good idea. Did they really get so bored that they decided to just end the timeline? How pathetic and apathetic could someone be? How could her children have grown up like this?
Asgore had been hunkered down in his throne room, sobbing this entire time. But she just couldn’t understand why he was depressed instead of feeling furious. Did he not feel that his parental lessons were just being ignored?  Did he not wonder how his kids could lack such empathy?
She didn’t judge him for crying, though. She understood. He always hated living Underground, hated being king, hated being trapped. And now he was back here, in that very position.
All because of their ungrateful kids.
Maybe she was being unfair. She couldn’t blame both her human children, not yet. Frisk was the only one capable of resetting in the family, so maybe Chara was innocent. But she would still gladly be angry at Frisk.
Toriel stormed through Waterfall, heading towards the Ruins. Perhaps she was foolish, trying to stop the child herself. But in all honesty, she couldn’t really care what ended up happening to her at this point. Her life was gone, her progress was ruined, and her children had vastly disappointed her.
She absently wondered if Flowey was soulless again, or if his soul-transplant had been lucky enough to survive this botched reset.
Toriel felt her body grow heavy as it hit her. Asriel. If his soul didn’t survive, Asriel was probably gone with it. He would be lost in the void of (what he had called) purgatory, awaiting a revival.
At one point, she would have considered Asriel and Flowey to be the same person, but Flowey and Alphys had made it clear one day that it wasn’t that simple.
She still remembered that moment clear as day, over 15 years later…
-------------------
A few months after breaking the barrier, Alphys had sat Toriel and Asgore down to explain to them both how Flowey was created, and whose memories he had. Toriel could tell talking about it made her nervous, but she held no malice towards the small monster. Alphys never intended to harm anyone, let alone revive a part of her dead son as a soulless flower.
Toriel had decided to let go of her malice and grief several weeks after this, making up with the people she had once held anger towards. She just didn’t have time or energy to be angry about these things anymore, especially not with her newfound family. (This had also led her and Asgore’s romance to begin re-blooming, but that’s far from the current topic.)
Toriel had happily began calling Flowey “Asriel” and “Azzy” after Alphys told her his origins. Flowey, generally, seemed unbothered when being referred to as Azzy, but he grew aggressive and defensive when called Asriel.
It wasn’t until he snapped at Toriel, screaming at her “I’M NOT ASRIEL AND I NEVER WILL BE!” that she grew confused. She thought that he was denying his identity, and tried to assure him that his body and lack of a soul didn’t make him any less of her son, but that didn’t seem to help. In fact, he seemed angrier.
He demanded she stopped calling him Asriel, because “Asriel is your other son!” before locking himself (and Frisk) inside of his room. Toriel, confounded, decided a visit to Alphys’s lab was due, because there wasn’t anyone else who could explain things the way she did.
So, there she was, sitting across from Alphys, sharing tea and cookies with the small monster. Alphys, after being given a rundown of the situation, blurted out Have you ever heard of plurality?”
It took Toriel a minute, wracking her mind for any meaning behind that term. It was a bit difficult, considering she had hundreds of years of memories by now, but she doubted she would have forgotten this if she did know it. She had always secretly been interested in science and could clearly remember every scientific term she had learned since childhood.
“…I cannot say I have.”
“T-that’s expected. Its n-not something commonly spoken of- t-theres a lot of stigma around it-…”
Toriel gripped at her robes, trying to conceal her lack of patience. She was frustrated, but it wasn’t Alphys’s fault. Or anyones, really. She just had a long day and wanted to get this over with so she could return home and give that poor boy a hug. He seemed to really want one.
“What is it?” she asked, a little too quickly. Alphys paused and seemed to be holding herself back from an overly-explained scientific explanation. She seemed to be considering how to explain it to Toriel in a simple way.
“U-Um…hm…well…plurality, i-in simplest terms, is when two or more people s-share a body…it’s usually f-formed in order to cope with trauma, b-but it can be a born trait…humans d-develop it more often than monsters…f-for them, it often has d-dissociative symptoms, s-so it often gets titled ‘Dissociative Identity Disorder’, ‘Otherwise Specified Dissociative Disorder’, o-or ‘Unspecified Dissociative Disorder’…b-but sometimes it doesn’t have a-any disordered symptoms...”
Toriel tried to wrap her head around this. She paused, before hesitantly asking “if I am…understanding correctly…it is like the body is…a machine to control for each…individual…?”
Alphys lit up, excitedly clapping her hands together, “Yes! They can s-swap out who’s driving, or w-work together and drive it with m-multiple people, o-or backseat- erm-  I-I’m glad that my explanation made a bit of sense, hehe-“
Toriel couldn’t help but smile at Alphys’s excitement. The little monster had instinctively grabbed Toriel’s hands from across the table, holding them gently. It was quite a sweet gesture.
“ S-so!” Alphys continued “For humans, plurality is usually a-a mental thing, but for m-monsters, it’s a-almost always connected t-to souls- with some excpections, of course. Y-Yknow how humans have conjoined twins sometimes? W-well, in monsters, i-instead of having a conjoined body, we get a, um, conjoined soul! And each soul-member c-can take turns with the body!”
Toriel considered this for a moment, eyes-locked with Alphys. The only response she could think of was “So Flowey is conjoined with Asriel’s soul?”
Alphys bit her lip. She shifted in her chair uncomfortably, before hesitantly answering “Sort of…Flowey doesn’t…have a soul, yet. So, its more like they share the memory of what once was a soul…a-and, according to Flowey, he’s the only one who can feel Asriel or see him…s-so they don’t share control over the body, at least not yet…b-but! I’ve been working with him and I think I found a way to…erm…f-fix that and give Asriel s-some control a-and Flowey a soul…i-if you a-and Asgore…um…c-consent with that...a-as a parent?”
Toriel could feel herself melting inside. She could talk to her baby again. She could hold him. She could apologize for being such a horrid mother. She could thank him for everything he did for her. She could take him places with his father. She could finally, finally, have the life she wanted with him.
Now it finally connected in her mind why she didn’t feel any closure with Flowey. Flowey wasn’t the son she lost, but rather a new child for her to adore. A new son who shared the memories Asriel had but wasn’t truly him. And while she adored him and appreciated him just as much as her other children, she still missed her first son.
“Oh, Alphys…” she sobbed. She stood up from her chair, grabbing Alphys and pulling her into a soft hug “Alphys, you’re so wonderful, dear…” she buried her snout in the now-blushing monster’s head-crest “We absolutely MUST call Asgore and tell him the WONDERFUL news!”
And they did. They brought him over to explain to him in person. They decided on a date to try out Alphys’s idea. And, of course, Toriel and Asgore did what they should have done weeks before.
They threw a “welcome to the family” party for Flowey. Because he deserved to know that he was seen as an individual, rather than just a ‘new version’ of their previous son. Deserved to know that Alphys's explanation was understood, and that his feelings were valued separately from Asriel's.
Their family grew all the happier from then-on. Flowey finally received closure for the identity-crisis he had long been struggling with. And the Dreemurr parents had never been happier to have not just one, but two sons to adore.
-------------------
Toriel shook her head. This was a terrible time to be reminiscing. She would have to find Flowey and ask him directly if Asriel was still okay. She could only hope that in the terrible scenario where Asriel were re-erased, Alphys would successfully bring him back again.
She also hoped that Flowey and Asriel weren't completely shut down. Losing their fiances and each-other might just be their final breaking point, and Toriel had no idea if she could handle seeing her children so broken. She never felt more determined to save her sons in her life.
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