I know. I know. But I...don't want - I don't want you to not get some kind of ending. Some ending where you get a chance. If, if back home we can't...be like this, I - I don't want it.
I was in their lives for a day. They won't have to worry about me. Most of them won't even remember knowing me all that well.
[Their expression trembles, something awful streaking across it, low and pained. Having to say goodbye to everyone. To Alphys, to Sans, to Mettaton, to Asgore, to Papyrus, to Toriel - to everyone they've come to love and appreciate even more now that they're here. And Toriel had just started to warm to them, Sans just starting to accept that they count as family...
The ache of longing is still there, reverberating in their SOUL. They could have a family on the surface. A family of their own.
But Asriel deserved happiness too, and he never gets it. Not once. He always has to be the sacrificial lamb for everyone else's story. There's a poetry to it, to the choice here. Frisk taking that step away from the temptation of that gold-tinted ending, damning their SOUL to a world that isn't home, like Chara did, like Asriel, like any one of the nameless fallen children that tried and failed to make it back out.
It is what they deserve.]
* It's not you. * It's not me.
[It's something they've never gotten to say. Never allowed? Or did neither of them realize, allow it to happen, that bright, clear sound of two forces opposed aligning in perfect synchronicity.]
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I was in their lives for a day. They won't have to worry about me. Most of them won't even remember knowing me all that well.
[Their expression trembles, something awful streaking across it, low and pained. Having to say goodbye to everyone. To Alphys, to Sans, to Mettaton, to Asgore, to Papyrus, to Toriel - to everyone they've come to love and appreciate even more now that they're here. And Toriel had just started to warm to them, Sans just starting to accept that they count as family...
The ache of longing is still there, reverberating in their SOUL. They could have a family on the surface. A family of their own.
But Asriel deserved happiness too, and he never gets it. Not once. He always has to be the sacrificial lamb for everyone else's story. There's a poetry to it, to the choice here. Frisk taking that step away from the temptation of that gold-tinted ending, damning their SOUL to a world that isn't home, like Chara did, like Asriel, like any one of the nameless fallen children that tried and failed to make it back out.
It is what they deserve.]
* It's not you.
* It's not me.
[It's something they've never gotten to say. Never allowed? Or did neither of them realize, allow it to happen, that bright, clear sound of two forces opposed aligning in perfect synchronicity.]
* It's us.