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A new fad swept the Underground, and every monster wanted in on it. You could now own your very own teeny tiny human!bitty in just about any shape or style imaginable!  human!bittys were both wildly popular and highly illegal to own or trade, resulting in a black market explosion of both real and counterfeit versions. Temmies possessed a great deal of skill both in capturing the bittys and avoiding the watchful eyes of the Guard.  Sentient pets helped relieve the boredom and monotony of life without a sky, plus, if you felt particularly malevolent towards humans, you could always get a bitty to torture or eat. Adoption was a crapshoot for every Human!bitty at the shop, including me. Especially me.

One of the Temmies had placed me in the front display, and I did notlike it. Every monster that came to the village to shop gawked at me until I took to huddling in the back of the cage, trying to avoid the curious and sometimes cruel eyes of passersby. The other bittys in the storefront came and went, lived or died and were replaced, but nobody picked the little Vex-bitty hiding in her cage, just like I planned. I did get noticed once, by a weird onion bulb-looking kid who tugged his… mother’s… father’s…sometimes it’s hard to tell with monsters… sleeve and pointed.

“What’s a human? Can you touch it? Can you eat it? Can you kill it? Is that a human?” The little goblin burbled his questions excitedly like contemplating eating me or killing me wasn’t a big deal. Like wondering if he could eat me before he considered whether or not I would die from it was perfectly normal. Like I wasn’t looking right at him and couldn’t hear him…

“Ew, no,” said the disgusted parent monster of unknown gender. “Those are dirty!” They tugged their little heathen away from the bitty shop, and I breathed a sigh of relief- a dirty, germ-filled sigh of relief if that other monster was to be believed. Another day, another potential doom avoided. That’s what I thought anyway, until a Temmie paw reached into my cage and grabbed me unexpectedly. Dammit!

The Temmie dropped me unceremoniously into a cardboard critter carrier before I even had a chance to see my new owner (or attempt to escape from them). I settled for plotting my escape as my carrier swayed on the trip home, which turned out to be a short trip into a Hell that had already frozen over. I uttered the most sarcastic of “yay”s as chilling wind invaded my wobbly cardboard prison through the breathing holes.I hoped this inconsiderate monster would at least toss me in the microwave for a few minutes to warm up before they ate me. The thought sobered me. I needed to be ready. The moment they opened the carrier, I would have to make a break for it!

The swaying motion stopped; I braced myself. A blinding light entered the darkened carrier, and I sensed rather than saw a hand reaching for me. I lunged forward, planning to sink my teeth into the intruding hand, but the flesh wasn’t even fleshy! It was hard… hard as… bone? I abandoned the biting in the interest of keeping my teeth and tried to dart past Grabby McToucherton. Unfortunately, the box wasn’t on a solid surface, and I exploded out of the top of the carrier into open air. A 4-foot drop may not seem like much, but with my 3-inch stature, a fall from this height would’ve been deadly. I didn’t fall, though, because that same hard, bony hand scooped me from freefall before I could die. I uttered a much more sincere “yay.”

The owner of the hand (and me now, I guess), lifted me towards their face. My eyes finally adjusted, allowing me to confirm that the hand belonged to some kind of skeleton monster. I prepared myself to come face-to-skull with the puppeteer of my fate, but I don’t think I ever could’ve been ready for what I saw. The skeleton was male… and carnivorous, judging by his sharp teeth… and terrifying because he looked like he kicked ass and ate human-bittys. His expression alluded to him being fresh out of asses.

“I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he rumbled, his voice deep and actually kind of pleasant if it wasn’t full of potentially life-ending lies. “I’m Brassberry, Brassy for short.” I contemplated. I could jump, or risk this guy eating or crushing me. I peered over the edge of his hand. Well, shit. Turns out I’m scared of heights.

“I’m Vex.”

Chapter Text

“Hey, guys,” Brassberry bellowed, inciting an instant headache which did nothing to help the nausea left over from the vertigo of looking down. “Come see what I brought home.” Wait, guys? As in, more than one? As in multiple other monsters who may or may not see me as a potential snack or tiny not-very-durable punching bag? I cringed, and hid my face against one of Brassy’s phalanges.  

Everything around me darkened as he lowered his other hand to cover me. I hoped he was protecting me and not just building up situational tension before he let one of his friends squash me. I could hear one of the “guys” thundering down some stairs, full of noisy enthusiasm. I also heard a low drawl from the other direction- a living room maybe?

“I hope it’s not another one of Alphys’s animes.” Drawl.

“Nah.” Brassy’s whole body rocked like we’d been struck by an earthquake, but the earthquake turned out to be the enthusiastic stomper, who, despite the sheer amount of noise and ruckus he created, sounded like a timid kid.

“Did you bring me some monster candy?” the tremulous voice asked.

“Better,” said Brassy. Did he mean better tasting or more emotionally rewarding? The suspense was killing me. He lifted the hand that covered me, exposing me once again to the light and… a shorter skeleton monster clinging to Brassberry’s t-shirt.

“Not another human!bitty,” the drawling voice said, exasperated. I peered around Brassy’s sheltering phalanges and saw another tall skeleton lounging on the sofa in an orange hoodie and khaki cargo shorts. He appeared to be unimpressed with the world in general and somehow even less impressed with me.

“B-brassy, those are illegal!” whimpered the small, timid skeleton. “You’ll get in t-t-trouble!” Tears welled up in the corners of his red eyes. Pangs of sympathy shot through me; the poor little guy was so upset. I wished my arm could reach him. I would’ve given him a hug or a comforting pat.

“Nah, I won’t get in trouble, Cherry. It’s part of my job as a sentry to stop the black market bitty trade.” Brassy used the hand that wasn’t holding me to pull Cherry into a hug.

“Yeah, by destroying them, not bringing them home as pets,” snarked the skeleton in the orange hoodie. “Plus, didn’t you learn your lesson with the first bitty?” First bitty? I sensed some very important information being discussed.

“Cap didn’t know they were so fragile. It wasn’t his fault.”

“Yeah, the first time.”

“The second time was an accident too. He didn’t mean to hurt them. He just doesn’t know his own strength.” Unease caused goosebumps to prickle across my skin.

“Excuse me,” I piped up. “Just how many bittys has this Cap person killed?”

The skeleton in the orange hoodie chuckled. “You’ll make four.” 

“Don’t say things like that, Lil Bro,” Brassy hissed. “I won’t let anything happen to this one.”

“Well, you better think up a plan quick, because YanYan and Cap are going to be home in a few minutes.” Cherry’s nervous whimpers were the soundtrack to my last few moments of life. I would’ve really preferred something more upbeat… or not dying…

Chapter Text

A tall skeleton monster burst through the door in an over-the-top, look-at-me-because-I-am-the-most-important-thing-that-ever-existed manner. Another, even taller skeleton monster followed him in, arms loaded with shopping bags containing fashion and fashion accessory brand logos. The first skeleton stopped in his tracks when he saw Brassberry holding a human!bitty, and his shopping buddy, who hadn’t been paying much attention, bumped into him. Brassberry faced them, with me crouching in his hand trying to disappear from sight and Cherry peeking shyly from behind his legs. Lil Bro didn’t move; I think he had become one with couch and didn’t wish to disrupt the cosmic flow of lazy energy they shared.

“What,” the first skeleton, who had on a sparkly night sky’s worth of bling, sniffed haughtily, “is that?” Not only had he achieved maximum swag, but this skeleton’s whole outfit screamed fashion… screamed it over and over and over just in case you weren’t paying attention. He sported an off the shoulder crop top, low rise jean shorts and trendy boots with a kitten heel that looked like sneakers.

“It’s Brassy’s new human!bitty!” Cherry squeaked excitedly.

“I know what it is, Cherry. I want to know what the hell it’s wearing.” His tone and expression radiated disgust. I checked my clothes. I wore the standard clothes that the Temmies put on human!bittys in the shop- a clean, beige knee-length frock. Nothing special, but it’s not like I was running around clad only in dried mud and the blood of my enemies.

“It’s called a frock,” I informed him coolly, forgetting that I should be fearing for my life. I folded my arms across my chest and struck my sassiest pose. I heard a low chuckle from the couch. The glamorous skeleton didn’t even dignify my statement with a reply. Instead, he addressed Brassy.

“If you’re going to keep bringing the little vermin home, you could at least get decent clothes for them!” He acted like Brassy and I had conspired to make me aesthetically unpleasing to spite him. While we’d been talking, the other skeleton monster (I didn’t know either of their names, but this one had stickers all over his head and two differently-colored eyes) crept closer to ogle me. He acted starstruck, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. I smiled at him and his face lit up. Aww, he’s so cute!

Brassberry noticed my admirer and promptly cupped his hands around me protectively. “No, Cap,” he said sternly, “you can’t play with the bitty until we’ve had a talk.” Wait… wait, wait, wait… This rainbows and sunshine, sticker-loving giant of a skeleton was the bitty murderer?

“I’ll take the bitty while you talk to Cap,” the fancy skeleton, who must be YanYan, offered. “At least it can die in something better than a frock.” He over-emphasized the word frock to mock me. Brassberry just handed me over despite the fact that I was obviously a tiny and fragile living thing in desperate fear for my life.

I wondered if it was too late to jump. Just my luck… I’m afraid of heights, and Yanyan is even taller than Brassberry. I sighed. Bring on the torture, I guess.

Chapter Text

YanYan took me upstairs to his room, and I found myself pleasantly surprised by the decor. This was no reeking dungeon or horrific torture chamber; this was an interior decorator’s dream in warm earthy tones and bright accents. He had gilded crown molding. I stared, mouth agape, before softly gasping the word beautiful.

“Of course it’s beautiful.” YanYan’s haughty voice burst my warm, happy bubble. “I did all of this myself.” He paused, allowing me a moment to admire him, and I obliged.

“Is that gilded crown molding? Did you do that too?” I asked excitedly. He regarded me for a moment before answering.

“Obviously. How does a pest like you know about interior design?” Well, we definitely weren’t buddy, pal, friendo, chums or anything, that was certain.

“I spent a long time in the Temmie shop, and the Temmies had a lot of interior design and fashion magazines to encourage people to buy their stuff,” I replied icily.

“Yet they dressed you in a frock,” he replied just as icily. Catty asshole!

“Yes, they did, and I wasn’t about to parade around naked to make a point.” He just kept looking at me, judging silently, as if my lack of a nude protest just proved my unworthiness. All the while, he was unpacking materials from a sewing basket and sizing me up, presumably for a fitting and not for a meal. 

He held up a swatch of metallic bronze fabric, comparing it to a lighter, gold fabric. I guess he liked the bronze better because he tossed the other fabric aside. Without warning he yanked off my frock. I blushed; I didn’t have anything on underneath it. He was threading a sewing needle when he noticed I was trying to cover myself. He laughed.

“Don’t bother. Nothing we have would fit anything you have anyway.” He somehow managed to make it sound as if I had purposefully thwarted them with my human!bitty craftiness. He held the fabric up to me and stuck a few pins in it, nearly stabbing me in the process. As he sewed, he continued to talk.

“If you were looking for fashion-forward owners, you came to the wrong house. Everyone else here is an unrefined slob, especially Brassy.” Yay? YanYan acted like I’d bought Brassy out of a Temmie shop window instead of the other way around. I really had no say in where I lived unless I could escape, and at least the monsters in this house seemed pretty decent so far. Except for the one named Cap.

YanYan pulled the metallic bronze work-in-progress over my head for a fitting. There were still a few pins it it for sizing, but he had crafted it expertly so far. I ventured a question.

“The Temmies had a TV… there’s a show… the finale is this week…but I dunno if you… watch… Project Runway?” He pulled the finished dress over my head and gave me a look that said I’d be stupid (and he really thought I was) to think he didn’t watch that show. The dress he’d made was amazing. It was a one-shoulder dress, gathered at the left shoulder, mid-calf length and draped beautifully to compliment my full figure.

“Thank you,” I breathed, hugging his hand.

He sighed. “It’s actually going to be a shame when Cap kills you. Not that I like you, but I’m proud of the craftsmanship on that dress.”

“Why does Cap hate bittys so much?” I asked.

He laughed. “He doesn’t hate them. Cap loves bittys. He loves them to death. Literally.”

Oh.

Chapter Text

Yanyan carried me back downstairs. Brassberry was nowhere to be seen, but Lil Bro remained lounged on the sofa. Cherry sat in front of the TV, watching some MTT program with rapt attention. “Where’s Brassy?” demanded Yanyan.

“Still talking to Cap… if they’re actually talking that is,” Lil Bro replied with a knowing wink. I narrowed my eyes, processing the information. Were Brassberry and Cap mates? A mate was the monster equivalent of a spouse, which explained why my new owner would let this person kill three of his human!bittys already.

“Well, I can’t watch his stupid pet all day for him,” Yanyan huffed. “I have things to do.” Like what, I wondered? Primp and preen? Stare deeply into a mirror? Ask it who the fairest monster of all was and start poisoning some apples?

“Hand her over,” suggested Lil Bro coolly. “I’ll keep an eye on her until Brassy and Cap are done… talking.” This time he accompanied the suggestive statement with a waggle of his brow bones. I lived in a house with a bitty enthusiast, a bitty butcher, a drama queen, a sass master, and a crybaby. Yay?

Yanyan dumped me thoughtlessly into Lil Bro’s cupped hands, and Lil Bro carefully set my down on his hoodie. The one and only thing this hoodie had going for it was an undeniable softness. The orange fabric was warm and comfortable, or it would have been for any monster or human without a nose or eyes and an imagination. The smells piled up in layers, forcing me to sniff and wrinkle my nose as I sifted through them. Weed, cigarette smoke, honey, and a few unidentified scents vied for supremacy. I desperately hoped the translucent stains were honey, but I tried to avoid them in case they weren’t. I had just found a mostly clean spot to curl up right above the pocket when Lil Bro spoke to me.

“So, you ready to meet Cap?” I gave him an incredulous look as an answer. “I thought not. If you decide to stay, I have some advice for you.”

“If I decide to stay…?” I repeated. “How exactly would I be able to leave?” Full-size doors aren’t human!bitty friendly, and I didn’t really have time to explore and find a me-sized exit. Besides, Snowdin’s biting cold and deep, omnipresent snow would’ve killed me anyway.

“If you really want to leave, I can teleport you wherever you want to go,” he offered. He sighed, and I wondered if he felt guilty about the other bittys’ deaths. I didn’t really get much time to wonder or even contemplate Lil Bro’s offer because Cherry, whose TV program must have ended, leapt to his feet with a loud cry.

“Please don’t leave! Please don’t go! Please,” he begged, tears streaming down his cheekbones. “Please stay. I need a friend. I won’t be a burden, and I can take care of you. I know I’m a crybaby, but I can do it. I can be a good friend.” He babbled and blubbered.

“You have Brassy,” I suggested weakly. Cherry’s cries became sobs and sniffles, and he began to stutter.

“He’s m-my b-brother, and he’s busy. I’m always such a b-burden to him. I don’t m-mean to be. I just don’t have any f-fr-friends. Nobody likes a crybaby like m-me!” I quickly nudged Lil Bro and gestured that he should put me down. He carefully lowered me to the floor, and I ran over to Cherry and hugged his foot (the only thing I could reach). His pain broke my heart, and I swore I’d rather die than just abandon him.

“I like you,” I reassured him, or rather his sock.

“R-really?” he stammered uncertainly, but I didn’t get a chance to respond because two sets of heavy footfalls were descending the stairs.

“Sure could use that advice right about now,” I shouted to Lil Bro. Cherry picked me up and held me to his chest protectively.

“Cap’s not the brightest crayon in the box,” the couch-lounging skeleton hissed as my reckoning arrived.

Chapter Text

Being held by Cherry made Cap appear even taller and more intimidating, but I’d hatched a plan to thwart his bitty-crushing tendencies. Tension descended on the room so thickly that the pressure of it felt like a physical weight on me. Cherry let out a barely audible whimper as Brassberry knelt beside him, his eyes never leaving Cap’s eager, sticker framed face.

“It’s ok Cherry,” Brassy’s deep voice soothed the smaller skeleton. “Cap will be careful. Little Vexy there will be alright.” Little? I’m a perfectly acceptable height for a human!bitty!

“Promise?” Cherry asked with another nervous whimper.

“Promise.” Cherry handed me to Brassy, who held me gently in a cupped hand as he stood back up. He turned to Cap; I gripped the closest phalange for dear life. This was it. I waited. This was it? Brassy spoke to Cap in a low voice, giving him last minute instructions.

“Remember to keep your hands flat for her, and no squeezing! She’s too small to hug, Cap. Slow small movements are best so you don’t scare her ok?” Cap nodded, but the entire time Brassy spoke his eyes burned into me with an obsessive gleam. I doubted he heard a single word in his eagerness to squeeze the life out of me. “Hands out, Cap, like I showed you.” The huge skeleton obediently held out his hands, palms up and safely flat. This was my cue. 

I stepped cautiously from Brassy’s hand to Cap’s before seating myself neatly in the center of one of his giant palms. “I’m Vex,” I introduced myself in a calm, steady voice. Nothing happened, and I heard the soft sighs of several monsters letting out their breath in relief. Had I done it? Had I survived without having to implement my plan? Not quite.

Cap’s hands rocketed upwards at an alarming rate. I flattened myself on his palm, terrified of falling. As a human!bitty, I find terms like “close” and “far” to be relative, but that skeleton brought me uncomfortably close to his face even by my standards. His eyes were mesmerizing, one a bright, lovely blue the other a deep, intense orange, but I refused to let my guard down.

“She’s beautiful,” Cap declared, deafeningly due to my proximity. Ok, I might’ve let my guard down a little bit at that; I’m not totally immune to flattery. I opened my mouth to give him a compliment in return when he suddenly lifted me up and pressed me against his cheek, attempting to nuzzle me affectionately, I assumed. Unfortunately, what felt like a gentle nuzzle to Cap turned out to be crushing me between the unyielding bones of his cheek and hand and then grinding those bones against my fragile, squishy body. 

I screamed, more out fright than pain (yet), but apparently Cap thought it was a scream of joy because the intense, crushing pressure increased. I heard Brassy yelling at Cap to remember what they talked about. I heard Cherry shouting for Cap to let me go, followed by the pit-pat sound of tiny, harmless fists on ectoflesh. I knew I could only rely on myself.

“LET ME GO RIGHT NOW OR I WILL BITE YOU! I AM EXTREMELY VENOMOUS!” I bellowed as loudly as my tiny lungs would allow. The pressure eased slightly, and the room fell silent. Cap still held me too tightly, though, and I needed to drive my (fake) warning home. “MY VENOM IS SUPER TOXIC AND CAUSES EXCRUCIATING PAIN, AND THE ONLY WAY TO STOP THE PAIN IS TO AMPUTATE THE LIMB! CRIPPLING, BLINDING, MADDENING PAIN!” I shouted at the gullible giant, whose eyes had widened in horror and fear.

That’s when he dropped me.

Chapter Text

Three different colors of magic bombarded me from three different directions at once. The physical force of the magic hit me like a whirlwind though it did also break my fall. I found myself suspended about 3 or 4 feet off of the floor in a ball of fiery magic in shades of red, gold, and orange.I could see two of my rescuers emitting wisps of magic from their eyes. Cherry’s left eyelight glowed red at me from less than a foot away; Lil Bro had a blazing orange eyelight visible though he still lounged casually on the couch.

I spun myself around in midair, rather enjoying the feeling of weightlessness. I wanted to identify the source of the orange-gold magic. I already had an educated guess as to who it belonged to, and the sight of YanYan lurking halfway up the stairs, left eyelight ablaze, confirmed it. YanYan had tried to help me despite his earlier attitude. As if he could read my mind, he huffed and strode haughtily back to his room. Brassberry was busy comforting Cap, so I hovered in the air awhile longer before Cherry hesitantly reached for me.

“P-please d-don’t bite me,” he whimpered. Well, shit. I had intended to scare Cap, not Cherry! He cupped me carefully in his trembling hands, and I felt certain that if I made a sudden move he’d scream and probably drop me too.

I nuzzled his hand in what I hoped was a reassuring way. “I won’t bite you,” I told him solemnly. “We’re friends, and friends don’t bite their friends!”I could tell he didn’t hear me though. He shuddered; his eyes looked distant. Tears rolled down his cheekbones, and he emitted a high-pitched whine. I thought he was having a panic attack, and Cap occupied Brassy’s attention at the moment. It was up to me to help!

I sensed Lil Bro’s eyelights on me as I attempted to get Cherry to focus. “Cherry! Cherry, sweetie, look at me. Just look at me a minute.” Cherry sniffled and hiccuped, but his eyes focused and dropped to mine. “I’m not going to bite you. I promise, ok?” He nodded, but his shudders and whimpers continued. I stepped up my tactics.

“Focus, honey.” I heard Lil Bro chuckle behind me, and I remembered the honey-scented stains on his hoodie. Weirdo. “Cherry, can you tell me what color my eyes are?” The small skeleton looked confused for a moment, but he lifted me closer to his face to check.

“Oh… Oh! They’re blue-green. They’re beautiful!” He was mesmerized. Meanwhile, I blushed at the unexpected compliment. I just wanted to distract him from his panic attack- not that I was complaining. Who doesn’t like to be called beautiful?

“Aww, thank you. Now, do you remember what you had for breakfast?” He thought about it, which is what I intended. His shudders had slowed and lost their intensity. His tears dried, and his voice lost its panicked edge.

“Pancakes with syrup,” he declared. “Brassy made them. He’s a really good cook. He even made mine in shapes!” Talking about his brother cheered him up another notch, so I continued along that line.

“What kinds of shapes?”

“An elephant and a bunny,” he proclaimed excitedly. “Brassy is the best brother.” I hadn’t realized the room had gone silent until Cherry made his best brother proclamation. The living room had suddenly become a sound vacuum. The pause in the conversation lengthened until Brassy’s deep rumble filled it.

“Thanks, Cher. You’re not so bad yourself.” The bigger skeleton patted Cherry on the skull then lifted me from his hands. “I need to borrow your new friend though.” Cherry gave me to Brassberry willingly; obviously he trusted Brassy not to hurt me. I wasn’t so sure, especially considering what he said to me as he carried me upstairs to his room. Cap, Lil Bro, and Cherry stayed downstairs with the TV on loudly enough to drown out my screams.

“You caused quite the ruckus today,” Brassy informed me coolly. I considered starting the screaming immediately. Maybe the others weren’t too immersed in the show yet….

“We need to talk.” The door to the room closed. Uh oh.

Chapter Text

The sight of Brassberry’s room only reinforced YanYan’s earlier comment about his uncultured housemates. The obvious bachelor pad featured a landscape of laundry pile foothills. A bookcase overflowed onto the floor, doing its part to prevent any clear spaces on the carpet. I mean, who even likes to know what color their carpet is right? There might’ve been a bed in the corner. There were definitely enough blankets in that direction. Brassy placed me on an elevated surface, which at one point had likely been a desk, but currently supported a glorious cityscape of Monster energy drink cans and loose papers. A lonely-looking laptop hid amidst the clutter.

At first glance, the laptop seemed like a good place to sit. Unfortunately, when I had lowered myself onto it, I discovered it to be deceptively sticky. Perfect. I wondered what Brassy wanted to talk about; I hoped it had something to do with cleaning up his room, especially since I assumed I’d be living here. Maybe I’d take up residence in the video game and DVD shrine near his flat screen TV? Or I could camp out under a foil burger wrapper. I mean, one monster’s trash is another monster’s… well… trash.

Brassy regarded me affectionately while I made myself comfortable, then he spoke:

“Cherry wasn’t kidding around when he said human!bittys were illegal, and it is my job to put a stop to the illegal market for human!bittys, among other things. We monsters don’t know much about human!bittys, however, so I think your presence could be helpful to me.”

He gave me a meaningful look; I suspected his words were an offer for a quid pro quo arrangement. I needed to explore my options though. Brassberry seemed nice enough, but would he still consider me worth keeping alive if I wouldn’t or couldn’t help him?

“Lil Bro said human!bittys were supposed to be killed. Is that true?” I asked solemnly. My diminutive stature didn’t leave me with a lot of choices in most situations.

“Technically, all human!bittys are supposed to be taken to the lab for experimentation, but it’s essentially the same thing. Extracting the energy of a human soul from a human!bitty is useful for powering the Underground but deadly to any bittys involved.” Brassy’s words were blunt and honest, but I had one more question.

“What will you do if I don’t help you?” I didn’t bother informing him that I probably couldn’t help him. That information could wait until later. Silence answered me; it lasted so long, I wondered if he just didn’t want to say out loud that he’d kill me.

“Keep you of course. Feed you. Clothe you… well, YanYan will probably make outfits for you, but I’ll continue to take care of you for as long as you stay here no matter if you tell me what I need to know or not.” I was speechless. All of my wariness and suspicion drained out of me as I realized that Brassberry genuinely valued me as a living creature. In fact, I think mistrust had been the only thing holding exhaustion at bay because when I no longer had it to hold onto, I swayed on my feet.

“Are you ok?” Brassy asked, concerned, extending an oversized hand in my direction to steady me.

“Tired,” I responded… tiredly. I leaned heavily against his hand. He cupped his hand around me, lifting me in a secure enclosure of bone fingers and carrying me to summit of Mt. PillowBlanket a.k.a. the bed. He gently placed me on a (blessedly clean) pillow, where I contentedly curled up to sleep. 

My eyes closed against the sight of him settling in next to me, and the last thing I felt before sinking into the comfortable darkness of a deep sleep was a smooth bony phalange softly stroking me between the shoulders. The soft pressure down my back was heavenly.

I felt safe- not how I had expected this day to turn out at all, but I was thankful for the care and safety. Who would’ve thought I’d actually enjoy being a pet? Not me, that’s for sure.

Chapter Text

I didn’t bother opening my eyes right away when I woke up; instead I luxuriated in the plush comfort of the pillow I laid upon. I survived. I had a home. I could really be happy like this! I yawned and stretched languorously, opened my eyes, and screamed. A bone white (literally) visage filled my vision, one eyelight glowing white, the other that lovely shade of gold and orange. My scream woke Brassy, who sat straight up in bed, colliding skull to skull with YanYan with a sickening CLACK.

Hands flew to smarting faces. Brassy gave a grumpy half-awake snarl.

“What the fuck, Brassy!” YanYan shouted indignantly.

Brassy sat up in bed, and I scrambled over to stand next to him, my legs wobbling from the plush mattress. “What are you doing in my room so early, YanYan?” Brassy’s voice carried the grumble of sleep on top of its usual deep sonorous tones.

“It’s past 10 in the morning, Brassy,” YanYan sniffed haughtily, “and I need the human.” Oh. I squeaked in surprise.

Brassy grumbled as he settled back into bed. “What for?” he asked.

“I was under the impression that she needed clothes… and culture. Besides, she asked about Project Runway and there’s a marathon on. Unless you’d rather join the lazy brute squad.” The last comment was delivered in my direction, accompanied by an impatient look and a raised eyebrow.

“I’m in,” I confirmed quickly. The only thing better than watching Project Runway is watching Project Runway with a catty friend who has a good eye for fashion. Plus the thought of more YanYan original clothing designs held its own special appeal. Seeing my enthusiasm, Brassberry shrugged, grunted, and went back to sleep while YanYan scooped me up into his graceful artist’s hands.

He placed me delicately on a cushion on his desk before parading out what looked like a full line of human!bitty clothing. I clasped my hands over my mouth in awe and excitement. I felt like a royal princess, viewing the wares of the finest tailor in my kingdom, all designed just for me. YanYan smiled smugly, a superior artisan well aware of the quality of his work.

“You made all of this in one night?” I didn’t bother trying to hide the admiration in my voice. He deserved it. I reached out a tiny hand and stroked the fabrics. They were soft and flowing in a variety of prints and colors. I noticed that he shared my love of asymmetry. “It’s… it’s… it’s perfect!” No lesser word could describe Yanyan’s work, and he gave me a look of approval for my adulation.

“Obviously,” he huffed, pleased but unsurprised by my praise. “We need to do fittings, but I thought we could take care of that during commercials.” He pointed me towards a large wall-mounted flat-screen TV. Of course YanYan would have sleek, cutting-edge technology. 

He pulled out a sewing kit and began pinning a beautiful floral dress onto me. The measurements were already near perfect. YanYan knew his way around fashion, critiquing it and designing it, as it turned out. He handed me a gourmet bon-bon as we groaned over inept draping and tragic pleather fabric choices. The fancy chocolate didn’t even fit in my lap, but I nibbled it anyway. Lush vanilla creme and a soft raspberry nougat. Yum. Where did he even get luxurious sweets like this in the Underground?

We spent the next 12 hours arguing vehemently over styles, agreeing that neoprene mesh is a no-no once and an even bigger no-no on repeat, and expressing our outrage over our favorites being eliminated. We waited together with bated breath for the announcement of the winner; we howled excitedly when the contestant we backed achieved victory. By the end of the night, I had a new wardrobe and a new friend.

Yanyan greeted Brassberry with a frown when he came to collect me for bed that night. I yawned and curled up in Brassy’s large, rough palm, ready for sleep. YanYan leaned down to whisper goodnight to me, and I gave him a bitty-sized kiss on the cheek as thanks for the wonderful day. He smiled, then addressed Brassy with a sharp tone to his voice.

“You need to find some shoes for her, Brass. She can’t walk around here barefoot like some peasant.” Hmm, now that’s a definite upgrade from rodent.

Chapter Text

Once again I awoke to a face filling my vision. This time, however, it was Brassberry staring at me. How long had he been standing over me like this? Would I ever be able to sleep without being watched? Had he noticed me drooling on one of the many pillows he’d gathered for me? In the short time I’d been here, the big, buff, skelepuff had built me what seemed like a luxurious palace of soft pillows and blankets. A plush palace in under two days? My owner apparently cared quite a bit about my comfort.

When I yawned and stretched, Brassy beamed, displaying alarmingly sharp teeth like a proud owner with a new, adorable kitten. I considered sneezing for his amusement, but I do not do kitten sneezes. I do creating-a-multi-nostril-cyclone-of-booger-mist sneezes. They are not cute. In fact, if Brassy saw that, he’d probably return me to the Temmie shop.

Instead, I returned his smile with one of my own as he carefully laid out some clothing and a bitty-sized tub of warm water so I could start the day fresh and clean. Speaking of fresh and clean, during my sojourn with the house fashionista, someone had cleaned Brassy’s room to make space for my clothing and dispose of any offending food garbage. Was Brassberry trying to impress me? It worked. 

The free range herds of clothing that once roamed the wide open spaces of the floor had been corralled into hampers. Hampers! Someone had painstakingly rebuilt the fallen ruins of Shelf City, and the shelves were organized. Organized! I could see the computer desk and several other flat unoccupied surfaces with my own two eyes! He had a desk, the top of a dresser, and two nightstands! Amazing!

I’d missed family breakfast yesterday, but today Brassy carried me downstairs to the dining room, primped and preened and looking stunning in a tiny cable-knit sweater and leggings from the local (very local!) boutique and placed me gently in the center of the table. The other occupants of the house greeted me with warm smiles, except YanYan because I don’t think he does anything warmly. His smile was aloof, but at least he seemed to find me worthy. Even Cap smiled. 

It felt strange to think I’d feared being eaten by these very same monsters less than two days ago. Now I sat on their dining table, completely safe.I noticed that everyone ate something different. Five plates hosted five entirely different meals, and then there was the platter just slightly to my left. I wondered who planned to eat this steaming, towering monument of breakfast foods. Were there more monsters living here that I hadn’t met yet? Confused, I searched the faces around me. They were expectant, but expectant of what?

Brassy wouldn’t quite meet my eyes. I glared; he sweated. “I, uh, didn’t know what ya liked for breakfast, so, um, I kinda made ya a little of everything?” His embarrassment caused him to say the last word like a question. I could’ve sworn that YanYan snorted, but there’s no way he’d ever admit to making such an undignified noise. 

I walked over to the edge of the table where Brassy’s pale hand rested and patted it. “I think you made a little too much for me… ok, a lot too much for me, but thank you.” I kissed one phalange and went to the overflowing plate to try to choose something suitable.

Steam rose from the offerings like a fragrant mist. I poked at what appeared to be a burned quiche, and the entire pile wobbled dangerously. I doubted my breakfast was structurally sound, and it made me nervous at my small size. It was nice not to be part of the menu, but I would feel better if I wasn’t in danger of being squashed by said selection.

“That piece of bacon is bigger than you are, Vexy,” chirped Cherry in his childlike voice. “Brassy, maybe she should eat some of the dinosaur egg oatmeal like me an’ Cap,” he suggested. Good boy.

Brassy tried to hide the fact that my rejection of his efforts stung, but we both knew the smallest family member had a point. I couldn’t safely food-Jenga anything loose from the large plate without risking toppling it. With a sigh, Brassy grabbed the plate he’d prepared for me and scraped its contents onto his own plate. At least it wouldn’t go to waste.

“I’ll make ya somethin’ smaller next time,” he grumbled, and I knew his feelings were hurt. Subdued, I slunk over to Cherry’s cereal bowl and hoisted myself on the rim to peer inside. Piping hot oatmeal blasted my face with steam.

“Watch!” Cherry was so excited to have my attention and eager to show me the dinosaur eggs that went with the oatmeal. He poured a small packet of candy “dinosaur eggs” into the oatmeal, and the heat melted the outer shell to reveal dinosaur shapes sinking into the tar pit of hot cereal.

The process fascinated me, so much so that I leaned forward for a better view…

… and tumbled headfirst into the scalding mush.

Chapter Text

I never really considered Death by Oatmeal to be an option. I mean, who’s clumsy enough to fall into a container of oatmeal large enough to drown in? Me, apparently. Maybe whoever wrote my obituary would be kind enough to say that I died searching for dinosaur eggs. As the edible quicksand swallowed me up, the heat of it finally penetrated my clothing. I couldn’t even scream despite the fact that my skin felt as it were melting into my bones.

Honestly, I wished death would hurry up, but instead of impending doom, two hands rushed at me, scooping me out of the goop and into the blessed cool air. Caked in oatmeal, I couldn’t make sense of the babble of voices, but the hands around me were huge. They could only belong to one skeleton, the one whose voice yowled in a pain that mirrored my own- Cap.

Cap the bitty killer. Cap, the gullible giant who I had lied to and threatened, had thrust his unprotected hands into blazing hot mush to save my life. Gratitude overwhelmed until I heard a strange sizzling sound and a shout. Stars, did Cap think I was a raw oatmeal cookie? I knew it! I knew they were trying to eat me! Dammit, I trusted them! I-

-was doused in a torrent of freezing cold water. The spray hit me like a magical attack, and if Cap hadn’t been cradling me securely in his hands, I would’ve been washed right down the drain. My panic subsided with the overpowering burning sensation. In fact, I soon began to shiver at the rapid temperature change.

“You gotta get her out from under the water, Cap.” I’d recognize that drawl anywhere. Swiping dried, pasty oatmeal from my eyes, I looked around. Sure enough, everyone was on their feet ready to save the day except Lil Bro.. I guess he figured the other would take care of it. Cherry sobbed brokenly, still clutching his breakfast spoon in one hand. Brassy stood next to Cap, trying to pry me from his mate’s hands. Unfortunately the cooled oatmeal held me pasted to Cap’s palm.

YanYan’s gaze focused on me like a laser. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was worried, but worrying leads to wrinkles. No way would YanYan risk it. Feigning disinterest, even though he’d obvious considered me worthy of standing up for, he commented irritably: “Way to ruin an outfit, Vex.” Thanks YanYan.

“This one is already outdated anyway,” I grumbled at him. The very corner of his mouth lifted, practically an ear-to-ear smile from someone like YanYan. 

As Brassyberry tried to figure out how to release me from my whole grain prison, Cherry’s sobs quieted. The low murmur of Lil Bro’s voice, interrupted by the occasional post-panic attack hiccup soothed my nerves. I pondered. It didn’t take me long to realize that I’d have to chew my way to freedom. Breakfast had become a physical and emotional gauntlet, and I desperately hoped this wasn’t some sort of normal meal ritual at the skeleton house.

I patted one of Cap’s fingers, and he whimpered. Poor guy had burned his hands saving me. “I’m going to have to eat the oatmeal,” I informed my not-as-captive-as-me audience. Cap decided that the panic attack void left by Cherry needed to be filled immediately.

“Don’t bite me! Don’t bite me!” he wailed. 

“I’m not going to bite you, Cap!” I bellowed, trying to break through his raw terror before he accidentally (or purposefully) squashed me. “Just hold still!” Cap froze. I briefly toyed with the idea of instructing him to do the Hokey Pokey, but it was oatmeal time!

I must’ve eaten at least a full tablespoon of hardened mush. Not a big deal for a full-sized monster, but for a human!bitty? I thought I might explode. Once I’d finally consumed enough of the oatmeal, I managed to wiggle myself loose only to stumble awkwardly and almost fall off of Cap’s hand platform. My stomach ached, my body burned, and the effort of escaping had exhausted me completely. Brassy caught me as I fell.

There’s a moral to this twisted tale of judgment, deception, and hot cereal. You can’t always judge someone by their extensive list of brutal murders. Sometimes people and monsters just need a second (or fourth) chance.

Chapter Text

In the aftermath of The Oatmeal Incident, I discovered that my suspicions about the house inhabitants were true. For some reason, they really liked to watch me sleep. This was no run of the mill power nap, though. I drifted in and out of consciousness for days while my body recovered from the severe burns I’d sustained, and every time I drifted into wakefulness, a pale skeletal face loomed over me, etched with varying degrees of worry. I guess marathon sleeping is what passes for primetime entertainment in the Underground.

Unsurprisingly, Brassy’s visage greeted me the most often. This was his room after all, and I was his… pet, I suppose. Whenever I found the strength to part my eyelids, I could watch his expression melt from concern and sadness to relief. 

At first, he’d tried to feed me back to health, but I explained that human!bittys are different from monsters and even regular humans. We don’t heal from eating; we heal from the ambient magic around us. Being in a house with five powerful skeleton monsters actually helped a lot. I hoped sharing the information wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass. Sometimes I wondered if Brassy even cared about researching human!bittys, or if he simply wanted to learn more about us out of genuine curiosity. 

Cherry visited too. The first time he saw me (that I can actually remember), he burst into tears and tried to hug me. 

“Careful, Cher,” Brassy had admonished, hovering protectively in the background., but Cherry was too busy begging forgiveness to notice.

Sobs wracked Cherry’s small body, and guilt stung me worse than the pervasive burns. “Cherry, it’s ok. It was an accident,” I said, trying to comfort him, but my voice sounded strained and squeaky. Cherry became more distressed.

“You… almost… died…” The poor hyperventilating skeleton had to gasp out one word at a time.

“Cherry, listen to me.I need magic to heal, but it only works if it’s positive, happy magic. You’ve got to smile for me Cherry, so I can get better, ok?”

Tears still spilled from his sockets, but Cherry struggled and finally succeeded in calming himself. He gave me a shaky smile. “I’ll work really hard,” he promised with a sniffle. 

The interaction drained me of what little energy I had, and as soon as Cherry left the room, I sank into a deep, restorative unconsciousness once more. As I wavered on the border of awareness, I recognized a scent- honey, cigarette smoke, and weed. In my lonely sea of darkness, I heard… a snore. Well, I certainly wasn’t about to fight my way to cognizance just to watch Lil Bro sleep! Complete blackness returned just as I felt a large, slim hand settle over me like a blanket… a blanket that tingled with magic. 

No secrets in this house, apparently.

The next time I opened my eyes, my entire field of vision was taken up by huge blue and orange eyes, cute cartoon-y stickers, and a giant finger making a beeline to poke me. When he realized I was awake, Cap leapt away from me like I was some kind of ultra venomous human!bitty who had promised nothing but suffering and death if he dared to touch me. Where could he ever have gotten that idea? Oh, right.

“Cap,” I called to him. My voice sounded better today, much more steady than when I had talked to Cherry, however long ago that had been. Cap ducked. That’s right, the huge skeleton monster tucked himself into a crouch in the middle of Brassberry’s bedroom and actually thought I couldn’t see him. “Cap, I’m not going to bite you. Come here.”

Cap whimpered, but he shuffled over to the bed where I reclined on my pillow throne. “You saved my life,” I told him solemnly. “You can pet me if you want.” Cap’s face lit up, and he reached for me. I could see bandages on his hands, bandages for wounds he’d suffered saving me from scorching hot oatmeal. Nobody would’ve blamed him if he’d done nothing. He could’ve let me drown. The least I could do was let him smoosh me a little bit.

His touch was surprisingly gentle though. He still pressed a bit too hard on my spine, but I survived! Before he withdrew his hand I leaned in close and kissed it. I could see orange and blue blush spreading across his cheekbones. “Thank you,” I whispered as sleep returned to claim me.

I don’t how long I’d spent healing and fading in and out of consciousness. All I know is that one day I woke up and felt right. My muscles were stiff and achy, but the overwhelming pain and weakness had gone. I tried stretching. My itsy bitsy spine popped, and my muscles tensed and pulled deliciously. I didn’t even notice that someone else lurked in the room until a sharp voice spoke.

“You look terrible,” YanYan criticized over the top of a fashion magazine. I guess he’d joined team Watch the Human!bitty Sleep after all. He had not joined team Don’t Be Rude however.

“I almost died, what’s your excuse?” I shot back. I wasn’t even kidding. Lovely, elegant, always perfectly put together YanYan wore rumpled pajamas and sported bags under his sockets. He looked like he hadn’t slept since…

“You almost died,” he answered softly, throwing the magazine carelessly onto the bedside table and storming out of the room. He slammed the door deafeningly behind him, cutting off my apology.

I hoped burned bridges healed faster than burned human!bittys….

Chapter Text

I actually requested to join the other skeletons for breakfast the next morning. Brassy gave me an incredulous, open-mouthed stare like I’d said something shockingly profane instead of asking to eat and socialize. Ok, so maybe he had good reason to worry, considering my one and only morning meal with everyone had almost ended in my untimely demise, but I’d had enough bed rest to last a hundred years at least.

I couldn’t help feeling a stab of disappointment when I didn’t see YanYan at the kitchen table, though I wasn’t arrogant enough to assume he’d skipped a meal because of me. Honestly, I doubted someone with YanYan’s particular temperament spent a lot of time at family gatherings, especially ones as mundane as breakfast; he’d probably made an exception for my first ever meal with the household. I admit, his absence meant more to me than it probably should have.

Brassberry placed me carefully on the table, right in the center. Cherry set a miniature saucer full of finely diced fruit in front of me. From the way pride lit his features, I guessed he’d prepared it. I thanked him with a happy smile though I secretly wondered if I was somehow showing symptoms of scurvy. Do near death experiences turn people vegan?

I glanced around the table. Not one single wisp of steam rose from any of the plates. Even Cherry’s oatmeal looked as cold as a snow poff. Worse, four pairs of eyelights watched me expectantly, like I might backflip off of the table to my death if any of them dared to blink. I’d had one near-fatal run-in with hot cereal. One! I wasn’t so fragile that I’d drop dead from a stiff gust of exhaled air.

I resigned myself to their coddling. I do like fruit, after all. Besides, cold eggs and cold oatmeal would be punishment enough without me adding a scolding to it. I put a bitty!human-sized piece of strawberry in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. I didn’t choke. I didn’t die of strawberry allergies. The four skeletons breathed a collective sigh of relief and began to shovel food into their own mouths. I could finally munch in peace.

“If you’re feeling well enough, I thought maybe we could go shopping today,” Brassberry offered between forkfuls of frigid meat products. “We could go to the Temmie Village and pick out some clothes and shoes for you.” He kept talking in that deep, rumbling voice of his, but I’d stopped listening.

I had clothes. YanYan had made me so many lovely outfits, including the one I currently wore- tailored pants and an off-the-shoulder blouse. Had he thrown them all away? Had he done it to spite me? Did YanYan even need a reason to be petty and destructive? My mind whirled with emotions. Did YanYan actually care enough to hate me, or did he just not care at all?

“Ok,” I replied listlessly. I pushed the saucer of fruit away from me. Suddenly, I had no appetite. I didn’t really want to return to the Temmie Village, even as a customer, but anything would be better than sitting here and moping, right?

I sure hoped so.

“Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Since I am a highly illegal trade commodity and Brassberry is supposed to be in charge of my species’ ultimate extermination, we agreed that I should stay safely hidden in his pocket until we got to the Temmie village. That option suited me just fine; Brassy’s jacket pocket was lined with soft fabric and smelled wonderfully of worn leather. I actually dozed off during the walk- snug, warm, and safe in my little private hideaway.

An incredibly rude bony digit poked me awake when we arrived. Shopping with Brassy turned out to be quite an experience. First, we stopped at a shop selling human!bitty clothing and accessories. Trying on clothes and shoes felt like my own tiny Heaven until I started comparing the fit and quality to the clothes YanYan had made for me. It reminded me of how he’d shunned me, how I’d hurt him. 

I couldn’t even enjoy the miniature fur-lined, hooded cloak in deep forest green that Brassy purchased for me because YanYan would’ve thought it looked fabulous. The sassy skeleton would probably never even look at me again. Brassberry sensed my change in mood and decided a quick venue switch would solve everything. 

It didn’t.

We went to a dumb shop full of dumb curios, and every time I glanced at something for more than 1.2 seconds, Brassy bought it, thinking I’d want to decorate his room with things that I liked. Nothing says home sweet home like a garishly iridescent unicorn statue or one of those weird doll-sized couches in the shape of a leopard print high heel.

An appeal to my materialistic nature hadn’t worked, so Brassy plied me with ice cream instead. I have to assume he didn’t understand the ramifications of a freezing dessert on my absolutely minuscule human!bitty body. Why would he take me all the way out to the Temmie village to kill me with hellish brain freeze when he could’ve just dropped me outside in Snowdin? I smiled and suffered, not wanting to hurt the big guy’s delicate feelings.

“Do you want to go back home?” Brassy asked me with an expression that hinted at some very hurt feelings. Dammit. I nodded.

The winding path of our shopping trip had circumnavigated the Temmie shop where I’d been sold, but in the interest of saving time and effort, we strolled past it on our way back to Snowdin. The windows of the shop, usually bustling with human!bitty activity, stood empty.

“That’s strange,” commented Brassy offhandedly. My gut twisted with anxiety. 

“Maybe they hid the human!bittys because they knew you were coming,” I joked, trying and failing to produce a convincing laugh.

“Pfft, nah. They never hide the human!bittys from me.” Why would a merchant hide their wares from an enthusiast?

Despite the cool weather of Waterfall, and my near death-by-ice-cream, I began to sweat. No way could the huge skeleton miss the obvious signs of distress written all over my face and body. I had a sneaking suspicion as to why the human!bitty cages stood empty, but could I trust Brassberry enough to share the information?

Could I lie convincingly enough to hide it?

Human!bittys have their secrets.

Our existence depends on it.

Chapter Text

The guilt of my hidden knowledge weighed on me during the trip home. Brassberry must surely have known something was bothering me, but he didn’t press me for information. I appreciated it. I needed time to think, time to process the things I knew and those I suspected and to decide what to do with my secrets. Could I trust Brassy? If what I feared turned out to be true, would it matter?

A whole new source of anxiety twisted my tiny guts when we finally entered the house. Lil Bro relaxed in his natural habitat, sprawled out on the couch. Cap and Cherry sat on the floor, leaning against the lanky skeleton’s favored perch, shoveling ice cream (in Snowdin!) into their ravenous maws like some sort of… well… monsters. The effervescent sounds of an MTT special blared from the TV in front of them. There was only one thing missing from the sweet domestic scene.

YanYan.

The resident queen bee was nowhere to be seen in the lower levels of the hive. Brassberry exchanged platitudes with the other three skeletons before disappearing up the stairs to stash our purchases. From the landing, I could see light under YanYan’s bedroom door. He was home, typically avoiding the family gathering downstairs. I doubted he had much in common with his housemates anyway.

I’d bonded with YanYan. I like to think that we’d become friends in my short time in the house. He’d actually graced my first family breakfast with his presence! He’d cared about me, worried about me. I had the distinct feeling that aloof, collected YanYan didn’t show genuine emotions often, and I’d thrown his concern right back in his beautiful face like it meant nothing to me. Even at three inches tall, I’d never felt so low. I had to fix things- for me and for YanYan.

I hadn’t wasted all of my time during the Temmie village shopping trip moping… just most of it. I’d actually dedicated some of that time to formulating a plan, a plan which I would now set into motion. There was one sure way to recapture YanYan’s attention. I tugged at Brassberry’s sleeve.

“Please can I try on one of my new outfits for YanYan?” I asked in my sweetest, cutest voice. Brassy, as blind to the social atmosphere in the house as I’d assumed, agreed. He studiously faced away from me while I changed. I actually struggled to pull the ill-fitted and absolutely horrendous garment over my head, then I told Brassy I was ready to go visiting.

Brassy is a sweet guy, but fashion forward, he is not. He actually crooned at me about how pretty I looked. I swear he wouldn’t know the difference between Gucci and garbage bags. When Brassy finally knocked on his brother’s door, it only opened wide enough to show the white eyelight half of a baleful glare.

“Don’t bring that thing in here!” YanYan hissed. Great, I’d been downgraded back to rodent.

“Aww, c’mon YanYan. She wanted to show you her new outfit,” Brassy coaxed, jamming his boot in the narrow door opening. Smart cookie.

“Yeah, look at it YanYan,” I chirped in a singsong voice. 

I imagined I could hear his eye twitching as he took in the shoddy stitching along the hems. He gave an affronted huff at the dimensions as well. I’d picked this particular item for its atrocious fit and sub-par workmanship, which I knew would make YanYan, a seasoned fashionista, apoplectic with horror. I waited for him to notice the biggest faux pas of all; it didn’t take long.

“Is. That. Neoprene?” He shrieked indignantly, as if I’d fashioned myself an outfit of discarded banana peels and vomit instead of cheap spandex.

I pulled the stretchy fabric away from my body and let it go with a snap.

“Yup.”

“Brassy how could you?” YanYan wailed, aghast, snatching me out his brother’s dazed and confused hands. He elbowed Brassy out of the room and slammed the door in his stunned face.

Sorry Brassberry, but I needed to set things right…

… and having YanYan spoil me wasn’t half bad either.

Chapter Text

I hoped Brassberry wouldn’t view me as a traitor when I accepted YanYan’s invitation to stay in his room that night. Don’t get me wrong, I love my fluffy pillow and blanket nest on Brassy’s bed, and his protective presence makes even a very small creature like myself feel downright bulletproof. YanYan’s luxurious textiles reminded me of expensive spa resort advertisements I’d seen at the Temmie shop. I viewed my night with YanYan as more of a vacation.

As I’d hoped, YanYan joined the other skeletons for breakfast the next morning since he obviously didn’t consider anyone else worthy of carrying me down the stairs. He gave the meal an icy once-over before setting me on the table- checking for dangerous oatmeal traps, I assume.

An actual human!bitty sized serving of actually warm food appeared before me, compliments of a pair of tiny bone hands. I thanked Cherry, relieved that I could once again be trusted with something as simple as eating.

“I helped make breakfast,” Cherry informed me proudly. “D-do you like it?” I’m pretty honest; I really don’t see the point in going through all the trouble of lying and then maintaining said lie, but there is not a single thing that Cherry could’ve fed me to make me say anything other than:

“I love it! You did such a great job, Cher! Even better than Brassberry!”

The food was really good, but the delighted expression on Cherry’s small (compared to the other giant skeletons) round face made it taste that much better. I don’t think I’d ever seen a monster orhuman!bitty experience such pure, uncomplicated happiness. Brassberry chuckled good-naturedly at the compliment, but I knew he must be proud of Cherry too.

“So, Vex, would you like to come to work with me today?”

I tensed, sure that my already-pale skin now matched the white of their bones. Did he want me to go human!bitty hunting with him? Did he see me as some kind of human!bitty hound eager to flush out the miniature denizens of the Underground to be collected for experimentation?

“Don’t look so scared, Vex,” Lil Bro drawled around a bottle of honey that he chugged like he was dying of hypoglycemia at an alarming rate. “Brassy doesn’t work. He’s inviting you to go nap at one of his sentry stations.” Lil Bro winked at me, accurately guessing at the fears written all over my face.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Lil Bro,” laughed Brassberry. “I have a very serious and important job.”

YanYan decided to join in on ribbing Brassy. “I suppose it is quite an important job. Good thing you’ve captured so many human!bittys. How many have you captured again?” I got the feelings, thanks to the shocked expressions on every skeleton present, that YanYan did not participate in conversations with the plebeians. 

Cap, missing the joke entirely, said, with some concern: “Brassy doesn’t catch human!bittys!”

“It’s true. The only human!bittys we’ve had were ones Brassy bought from the Temmie shop,” said Lil Bro.

“Where do those come from?” asked Cherry innocently, sucking the noise of banter right out of the room. The silence loomed. All eyelights were on me. I gulped. Cherry trembled, sensing the tension he’d caused. Dammit. I opened my mouth, not sure if I’d lie or divulge the secrets of my species to keep Cherry from having an anxiety attack, when Brassy saved the day.

“That’s not important Cherry. The Temmies have their ways of finding things.” Cherry accepted Brassberry’s explanation, and he and I both relaxed. “Come on Vex, we’re running late!”

“Late for naps?” I asked cheekily.

“Har har,” Brassy answered dryly, picking me up and settling me into his nicely insulated pocket for our walk through Frostbite and Hypothermia-din.

I hoped the sentry station was somewhere warm.

With my luck it would be at a frozen oatmeal factory.

Chapter Text

Once again, I tucked myself deeply into Brassberry’s pocket. He promised we’d be going somewhere warm, but in the meantime, I’d like not to be a bitty-sicle. On our last excursion, we’d walked, and the steady rhythm of Brassy’s footsteps had lulled me to sleep. Today our mode of transportation seemed to be of the boat-down-a-river variety, and our driver, whom my life depended on hiding from, bore the very fitting name Riverperson. Ah, an enlightening journey already! 

Some monsters use expletives as filler. Some monsters use “uh” or “um.” Riverperson though? Tra-la-la. Every few minutes. I wished Brassy was one of those elderly monsters who picked up random rocks and shoved them in his pockets because I wanted nothing more than to fill my tiny ears with gravel right now. Or bash them off. Tra-la-la. 

As if the unending “tra” and “la” weren’t enough, it turned out the boat could only be considered a boat in a vague and general well-it-travels-by-water sense of the word. The boat bucked and jerked like a rodeo bull, and after less than eight seconds, I already wanted off. I hoped I could wait to barf until I was outside of a confined space. Thankfully, the ride didn’t last long, and the contents of my tiny stomach settled as we disembarked the good ship Never Again at our destination.

We were at Waterfall, but not the Temmie Village and Garbage Dump Waterfall I was used to. Instead of sadness and despair, everything here radiated a sense of calm. Maybe it was the ambient blue light, the soothing sounds of moving water, or the softly glowing flowers, but I’d never seen anything so beautiful in my life. Brassberry just stood there quietly, letting me soak in the wonder with my little mouth agape.

Finally, he spoke. “I know you’ve been keeping secrets.” Yeah, well, I’m a terrible liar, so…

“Tra la la?” I said evasively. Brassy’s massive frame shook with laughter, causing a mini earthquake in my pocket sanctuary. He ruffled my hair as gently as he could; I felt like I’d been tossed into a tornado. Brassberry was a one-monster human!bitty natural disaster.

“I told you before, it’s your choice whether you tell me things or not, Vex. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it.” Oh.

“Thanks, Brassy,” I murmured.

He shushed me. “Do you trust me?” What an odd question! Brassberry waited while I considered my answer. The skeleton monster could have killed me easily at any time. He could’ve let Cap crush me. He could’ve let me die after the Oatmeal Incident. He could’ve drowned me in the river for concealing information from him. He hadn’t. He’d protected me and taken care of me. I nodded.

“Close your eyes and don’t say anything until I say so, ok? I’m taking you somewhere very special, but it has to be a surprise.” I nodded again, not sure if the no-speaking clause was already in play. I felt the measured up-and-down motion of Brassy walking quickly through the twists and turns of Waterfall’s paths, but, true to my word, I didn’t peek.

When Brassy spoke next, he whispered, so quietly that even my human!bitty ears could barely hear him. “You can look now.” Curious, I opened my eyes to darkness, broken by the faint diamond glimmer of stars. I gasped softly.

“This is a special cave,” Brassy whisper-informed me. “The mica chips here look just like the night sky on the Surface.” I could see him smiling warmly at me in the dim light of hundreds of luminescent Echo Flowers. How had I ever been frightened of that smile?

“It’s beautiful!” I exclaimed happily in my very small voice. The Echo Flowers picked up my words, repeating them over and over until suddenly my barely audible voice swirled around the cavern, full and loud and BIG.

“Surprise,” whispered Brassy, his deep rumble almost drowned out by my now full-sized words as they bounced and reverberated through the enclosed space.

I’d never felt so strong, so significant, so REAL.

I giggled. I shouted. I sang. I vibrated with a sense of life and validation I’d never experienced before. Brassy gave me the stars. He gave me a voice and a home, and he didn’t ask me for anything in return.

What more could a human!bitty ask for?

Chapter Text

I guess I’m not very savvy on how monster jobs work because I was under the impression that when you had a job, you had to go to itand actually do something. Brassberry had a talent for defying expectations, so instead of doing anything even remotely sentry-like, we spent the day strolling around Waterfall and sight-seeing. One of the sights we saw was Brassy’s unoccupied sentry station.

I pointed at it and raised a questioning brow, but Brassy just laughed. The sound was as deep and rich as his voice, and I honestly loved to hear it.

“What?” he said. “I don’t always sit at my sentry station.”

“Yes, from what I’ve heard, most of the time you’re napping there,” I joked. He snorted, but didn’t deny it.

“I take my job very seriously. In fact, I’m investigating the illegal human!bitty trade right now,” he said, peering down at me as I hung over the edge of his pocket, enjoying both the view and conversation from my safe little alcove.

“I feel very investigated,” I said with mock solemnity. “So Mr. Illegal Human!bitty Trade Operative, who’s the culprit in these illicit activities?” I had a sneaking suspicion that it was an inside job. The evidence? Me.

“Are you asking me to blow my cover, Rookie?” he accused. I giggled. I couldn’t help it. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?”

He gasped, pretending to be affronted. “Who, me? I would never!” 

“It’s always the last person you suspect!”

He patted the top of my tiny head very gently, and we shared several minutes of good hearty laughter. I demanded to know why the rookie didn’t have her own official (very small) badge.

My mood began to falter when I realized our winding route had taken us along a little footbridge and into the Dump. Brassy offered to find me a badge among the discarded human and monster debris, but the humor of our earlier conversation had been lost to my memories.

“I used to live here,” I whispered as my eyes swept along the ground looking for any sign of other human!bittys like myself. I recalled the lack of human!bittys at the Temmie shop, and my eyes darted around frantically, searching for something, anything to show that human!bittys still lived here. Brassberry stopped walking when he noticed my preoccupation. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked before quickly correcting himself. “Is it something you can tell me about?” 

I considered my response for a long while before saying anything. I decided to share my observation with Brassy. As much as I trusted him with my own life, this would be a suitable test to see if I could trust him with information about my fellow human!bittys. I doubted he could use what I was about to tell him against us, and I didn’t think he’d share something told to him in confidence. I just knew that Brassy had different loyalties than I did, loyalty to a King and his Royal Scientist who were dedicated to eradicating the human!bitty infestation.

“There used to be a lot of human!bittys around here. This is where the Temmies used to catch us.” I gestured broadly, indicating the entire Dump without pointing out any specific hiding places- just in case.

He nodded, but didn’t comment. Had he already known? 

.“Do you think you’re the last one?” he finally asked, voice subdued.

His question shocked me. “No.” I answered without hesitating, but I didn’t elaborate on my sure answer. 

I’d given Brassberry a piece of nearly useless information, and in exchange, he’d told me, with one sympathetic question, everything I needed to know about the monsters experimenting on us.

They didn’t know our numbers were static. They didn’t know we never truly died. After all, human SOUL energy can only be transferred, not created or destroyed.

Chapter Text

Brassberry decided to make the long trudge back to Snowdin by foot. I think he sensed that one more second spent with the Riverperson would make me Tra la lose my mind. I couldn’t agree more. Even if it meant spending more time hiding from Snowdin’s biting cold in Brassberry’s pocket, I was not getting back on that weird galloping boat.

As long as we were still in temperate, dimly lit Waterfall, however, I allowed myself to lean out of my hiding place and watch the scenery go by. Brassberry didn’t say anything on the walk back home, and I didn’t offer anything in the way of commentary either. He had to be curious about my reaction earlier; I was still curious about earlier.

Where had the other human!bittys gone? Had they simply relocated to escape the Temmie raids? Had they found a way to break the barrier and escape the Underground. Had they left me behind? I had Brassberry and his family taking care of me. I wasn’t alone, so why did I feel so abandoned? Why did it matter so much? I sighed heavily.

“You ok down there?” Brassberry finally spoke, his tone gentle. I didn’t say yes, but I also didn’t say no, so he kept up the conversation alone. “We’re going to be back in Snowdin in just a few minutes. You might want to duck down before the cold hits. If you’re hungry, we can pick up a Cinnamon Bunny before we head home.”

I wouldn’t call the sensation churning my stomach hunger so much as dejection, but Brassy was obviously worried about me and wanted to cheer me up. Besides, it’s not like I hate sweets. Sweets didn’t flee the human!bitty territory and leave me behind. Sweets never called me a rodent or idly mused about eating or killing me. Sweets just tasted delicious. 

“A Cinnamon Bunny sounds wonderful,” I answered truthfully, ducking down deep into Brassy’s pocket at the first hint of chilly temperatures.

I huddled in the shelter of Brassberry’s pocket until we got to the little bakery and knickknack shop that sold the Cinnamon Bunnies. To my surprise, Brassy lifted me out of his pocket and set me on a bistro table in the corner. The shop was warmly lit and smelled like mouthwatering spices. I shied away when the rabbit monster who owned the shop approached with two Cinnamon Bunnies on a plate, but she just chuckled.

“Is that your new human!bitty, Brassberry?” she asked in a melodic voice. “She’s precious!”

Apparently, Brassy’s love of illegal pets was Snowdin’s worst kept secret. At least she hadn’t tried to bake me into a pie. Judging by the scents wafting around the shop, though, it wouldn’t be a terrible way to die. Not that death was anything like permanent for me.

Brassberry broke off a piece of pastry and blew on it to cool it down before handing it to me. He and the shopkeeper waited expectantly for my verdict as I nibbled the sweet treat. It tasted heavenly! I might even have moaned a bit at the overwhelming decadence.

The rabbit monster beamed. “It’s my own original recipe,” she stated proudly. I’m not ashamed to say that I drooled a bit when Brassy broke off another small piece for me. I think he worried that I wasn’t eating enough at home. Maybe I could set his mind at ease by sharing a bit more information with him.

“This tastes wonderful,” I mumbled around a mouthful of ooey gooey cinnamon goodness. The rabbit monster laughed and turned back to her work, satisfied that she’d served another happy customer. “But, Brassy, I don’t really need to eat,” I confessed.

He stared at me in shock, quickly swallowing the large bite he’d taken of his own Cinnamon Bunny.

“You really don’t have to tell-” he protested with a small spray of flaky crumbs.

I held up a hand to stop him. “I trust you, Brassy,” I admitted, earlier suspicions pushed aside, “and I know you worry about my eating habits if the amount of food you constantly serve me is any indication.” He had the decency to look sheepish, and I found the light spattering of teal blush across his cheekbones adorable. “Human!bittys only eat because we enjoy flavors. We actually get our sustenance from the saturation of magic in the air around us.” He already knew that ambient magic had a healing effect on me. This couldn’t be an entirely new concept to him.

“Does this mean you don’t want anymore of your Cinnamon Bunny?” he asked playfully.

“Not a chance,” I countered, stuffing another bite into my mouth to prove it.

Laughing with a mouthful of Cinnamon Bunny is messy business, but it did wonders for my melancholy mood. The feeling of belonging was worth a million sticky crumbs.

Chapter Text

Brassberry opened the front door onto a cozy scene. Stretch actually sat upright on the couch, and Cherry leaned against him companionably while Cap laid on the floor on his stomach in front of him. Laugh tracks and silly sound effects blared from the television. Even YanYan the isolated ice queen had joined them. Kind of.

Like a skeleton goblin, YanYan lurked in the shadows at the top of the stairs. He surveyed those below him through the railing like a visitor at a zoo with a mixture of scorn and envy on his dashing features. Poor YanYan was too prideful to just come downstairs, crash on the couch, and watch mind-rotting TV like everyone else.

The spell broke as four heads swiveled in our direction, finally noticing our arrival. A flurry of movement drowned out Stretch’s casual greeting. Cherry hopped off of the couch to run towards us, but Cap nearly trampled him in his eagerness to reach his boyfriend. With an indignant and fearful squeak, I narrowly avoided being crushed by the two bodies colliding with Brassberry. Fortunately, Cherry’s tiny body clung to the side of Brassy where my hiding place was located.

“Brassberry!” the skeletons shrieked at an eardrum-shattering, neighbors-are-calling-the-cops, little-old-lady-is-hitting-the-ceiling-with-a-broom volume.Cap lifted Brassy off of his feet in a crushing hug, and my cinnamon bunny from earlier nearly made an undignified reappearance as vertigo swept over me.

I’d barely wiggled myself into an adequately upright position when YanYan arrived on the scene, scolding his housemates in an imperious voice. “Honestly, Cap, you should know better than to grab Brassy when he’s holding Vex! You could’ve crushed her! And you, Brassberry! You should be more careful with her!” He plucked me out of Brassy’s pocket and shielded me with one hand as if their oversight might reach out and strike me dead despite his intervention.

Shocked silence descended on the room. Brassberry was thoroughly shamed, but Cherry and Cap looked crestfallen and on the verge of tears. “I’m fine,” I piped up, trying to reassure everyone at once. YanYan narrowed his sockets suspiciously, but the culprits breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“I’m careful with her, YanYan,” pouted Cap, patting me on the head in a manner that I suppose would pass as gentle for anyone not three inches tall. “See?” Cap proclaimed, gesturing at my continued survival as proof of his bitty care skills.

Ah, home sweet potential concussions and possible unintended bitty murder!

Thankfully, Cherry diffused the situation by asking Brassy why we were home so late. I wondered how Brassy would answer such an open and honest question considering my minor meltdown from earlier and the information I’d shared with him about human!bittys.

“We went sightseeing in Waterfall. We had to walk the scenic route back though since Vex didn’t care for Riverperson. We stopped on the way home for Cinnamon Bunnies, and here we are!”

I couldn’t help noticing Brassy’s blatant omission of our visit to the Dump, but I never got a chance to comment on it because YanYan hissed in outrage.

“I cannot believe you took an illegal human!bitty to Waterfall! What if the Royal Guard Captain saw you? What if Riverperson reported something? Alphys could find out! You’d be arrested, and Vex would be confiscated! We can’t let anyone take our human!bitty away, especially not that bitty-torturing lizard!”

According to Brassberry, the fate of human!bittys didn’t concern YanYan in the slightest, yet he spoke about my safety with passion and protectiveness. He’d even claimed partial ownership of me! Now, I’m not exactly enthused about being considered a possession, but after the shock of the disappearance of every single other human!bitty except for me, it really warmed my tiny human heart to be included in a group that wanted me around.

But wait, there’s more!

I trust the other members of our household… dare I say, family? In the aftermath of the Oatmeal Incident, they had banded together to sit vigil by my bedside, and even though it involved sharing a personal secret of mine amongst themselves, they did everything within their power to help me heal. YanYan actually cried for me, yet Brassberry kept quiet about the missing human!bittys. He didn’t mention what I’d told him in the Snowdin Bakery either.

Brassberry gave me the option to share my secrets with others or keep them to myself, and I appreciated that. I still wondered though. How did he prioritize his loyalty? It was one thing to leave out information when talking to the family. It simply wasn’t crucial or useful information to them. Would Brassy still lie for me if it endangered his job? Would he risk treason to keep me safe? I still didn’t know, and I didn’t look forward to finding out.

Chapter Text

When Brassy woke me up far too early the next morning with the less than appealing offer to join him at his Snowdin Forest sentry station for the day, I politely declined by way of disgruntled groaning to express exactly how much I did not want anything to do with that idea. As much as I enjoy the prospect of slowing freezing to death while simultaneously succumbing to SOUL-crushing boredom, I could put aside my own selfish desires in favor of lazing about in the comfort of my bed, faithfully awaiting my owner’s return.

I only hope that someday my sacrifices will be recognized and rewarded.

I rolled over and resumed my oh-so-attractive signature combination of snoring and drooling, ignoring Brassy as he shuffled around his room getting dressed and stalling to give me plenty of opportunities to decide that I really love frostbite and completely despise comfort. With a pointed sigh, he left. I could hear the heavy thumps of his boots on the stairs and the muffled rumble of his voice as he bade our housemates farewell.

I wondered if YanYan would stop by, but I doubted he’d come within 100 feet of the disaster area that was Brassberry’s room. YanYan had lofty standards. Fortunately for me, nobody else in the house had standards or respect for privacy.

Brassy’s side of the bed hadn’t even cooled down before Cap and Cherry burst through the door to invite me downstairs to watch TV with them. I admired their ability to muster that kind of enthusiasm before noon, so I agreed. Cherry hurried to pick me up before Cap had a chance. I gave the timid skeleton a grateful smile. While Cap seemed to understand how fragile and squishy I am, he still struggled to control his immense strength when it came to handling me.

Cherry carried me in his cupped hands like a captured firefly that he didn’t want to injure. As our procession of two and a half passed YanYan’s room, the house diva made an appearance. He informed me that he planned to go dancing at an exclusive club and invited me along, but the thought of pulse-pounding house music rattling my tiny body to pieces did not sound like my idea of a good time either. I stuck with the original plan, much to YanYan’s poorly disguised disappointment.

I didn’t let the guilt swallow me because I’m just not that into vore, but any lingering misgivings about my choice of activity evaporated completely when Cherry showed me his collection of designer sugar cereals. Bright colors, cartoon mascots, and breakfast marshmallows abounded as the usually timid skeleton extolled the virtues of each individual cereal. After a heated debate, we opted for fruit rings and marshmallows. Cap poured himself some cinnamon squares, and I gloated, the true winner because they both offered me bites of their food which I happily dipped into the cold milk in their bowls.

The three of us piled onto the living room sofa, displacing the resident couch lump who teleported off to quieter pastures.

I snacked through several monster cartoons spanning the duration of a fruit ring, a marshmallow, and a cinnamon square, which left a patina of sugary sparkle on me. The characters and musical numbers were appealing, but I missed some of the humor. I suspected the shows contained lots of inside jokes. I may be fashion forward, but I am way behind on current monster memes, though I did get a laugh from some scenes involving ridiculous Temmies.

At first, I lost track of how much time passed in front of the television. The empty cereal bowls sat on the coffee table as episode after episode of monster cartoons melted together into a mess of colors and sound effects. I noticed Cherry and Cap shooting surreptitious glances at the wall clock during each commercial break, and soon I joined them, anxiously watching the numbers climb past the time when Brassberry usually returned home from work.

The cartoons on the TV screen played on, forgotten, as Cap, Cherry, and I divided our attention between watching the clock and staring at the door. It wasn’t uncommon for Brassberry to be late, but he’d only gone to his Snowdin sentry station and no amount of dawdling could possibly explain his lateness.

Three concerned faces lit up when the door finally swung open only to fall again when a rapidly texting YanYan strolled in. We couldn’t help our reactions, but I know we hurt YanYan’s feelings even if he would never admit it. Nothing ruins a sense of self-importance quite like housemates who greet your return with dismayed scowls.

YanYan huffed and stomped up the stairs, fingers tapping his phone screen furiously as he gossiped about the monsters he’d encountered at the club. Or maybe he was looking for a new apartment with more enthusiastic roommates. My heart went out to YanYan, but we had a much more pressing matter to focus on.

Grim thoughts of Brassberry’s single HP occupied all of our thoughts. Nobody voiced the concern, but we all wondered if some accident had befallen him. What else would prevent him from returning home? We kept coming back to the same unanswered question:

Where was Brassberry?

Chapter Text

My stomach churned with a mixture of worry and poor dietary decisions. Sure sugary cereal tastes good, but it’s hardly part of a complete breakfast (or dinner) unless you include the glass of orange juice and the muffin. I’d taken my saccharine shooters straight with only minimal milk to soften them, and my tummy couldn’t take the combination of dread and high fructose corn syrup. It staged a protest in the form of stabbing pains.

To make matters worse, as time passed the possibility of this being some minor incident dwindled away. Cherry, Cap, and I periodically exchanged glances, none of us wanting to voice the myriad of scenarios taking place in our minds, each one worse than the last. Cherry’s distressed whimpers called Lil Bro up from the basement like a heart wrenching beacon, and when the lanky skeleton joined us on our Couch of Misery, he actually stayed awake and upright.

“still not home?” he asked us softly. I’m sure Brassy’s signature stomping gait would’ve reverberated through the basement, so it was no surprise that Lil Bro knew he was missing. At Lil Bro’s words, Cherry finally lost his valiant battle to keep it together and burst into tears.. Lil Bro pulled Cherry into his lap, and I climbed into Cherry’s lap. The three of us huddled together like poorly proportioned matryoshka dolls with matching melancholy expressions.

Cherry’s sobs subsided into hiccups and eventually snores with still no Brassberry in sight. Cap drooled as he dozed off with his head at an awkward angle that I’m sure would be causing him some discomfort tomorrow. I wondered if the final member of our vigilant band of clock watchers would succumb to sleep as well, leaving me alone to mull over Brassy’s fate.

Should we go searching for Brassberry? By we I mean the skeletons because the snow outside would be above my head and I’m fairly certain that Brassberry wasn’t hiding out in the two or three square feet of snow drifts outside our door that I would be able to check before I froze to death. We, or rather they, could start at his sentry and fan out… except that monsters turn into dust when they die. If some fatal event had occurred, would we even find a trace of him?

The hour and the minute hands on the clock did their little shimmy and slide as they moved around each other like awkward coworkers who were both walking down a hallway going in the same direction but at different speeds. It came as no surprise to me that Lil Bro dozed off, but I was shocked when YanYan actually came downstairs to join our currently-on-break band of watchmen.

“I couldn’t sleep with every light in the living room blazing away, so I might as well join your little vigil,” YanYan explained, though I hadn’t asked about it and everyone else was asleep. I quickly translated his statement to: I am worried about Brassberry, and I would rather worry with company. I doubted YanYan would ever admit it though.

Without waking any of the other three skeletons, YanYan plucked me from Cherry’s lap and sat down in the chair, placing me on the armrest. He absently petted my hair, glaring icily at the door as it it were somehow blocking Brassy from returning. Oddly enough, the act of petting me proved to be relaxing for both of us. We faced the door together, a united front willing Brassberry to walk through the door with all of our collective might. Ok, my might may not have meant much, but YanYan made up for it by being an expert at getting what he wanted. I could practically feel the Dark Side of the Force radiating from him.

As if on cue, Brassberry staggered through the door. He didn’t have a scratch on him, but he still looked haggard and haunted like he’d been through a warzone. I wanted to say some mood lightening quip like “Wow, I’d hate to see the other guy,” but our resident clown beat me to it. I have no idea how Lil Bro managed to wake up at the exact moment that Brassy arrived, but he opened one socket and delivered my line.

“if you look like that, i’d hate to see the other guy,” he said somberly, letting the joke fall flat with no expectation of laughter. “what happened to you?”

Brassberry’s eyelights hadn’t left me since he stumbled through the door. His next words cut through me like the icy Snowdin wind:

“The King demanded a report from me. He wanted any information I had about the human!bittys,” Brassberry said, then collapsed from the stress and exhaustion of the monarch’s  inquisition.

I was stunned into silence.

What had Brassy told the King about the human!bittys?

About me?

Chapter Text

In those precious seconds following Brassberry’s arrival, our slumbering fellowship returned to wakefulness. Cap lunged forward just in time to prevent Brassy from faceplanting onto the floor; thankfully his strength turned out to be useful for more than just crushing human!bittys. He easily lifted his boyfriend into his arms, glancing around for a suitable place to set him down. The sweet skeleton’s mismatched eyelights shimmered with gathering tears of worry as he clutched Brassy to his chest. 

Cherry and Lil Bro leapt away from the couch as if the cushions were recently activated joy buzzers, clearing a space for Brassberry to rest in as much comfort as he could manage in his current state. Cap laid Brassy down, and Cherry grabbed one of our movie-watching blankets to drape over the exhausted skeleton. Fighting off unconsciousness with the last of his stubborn willpower, Brassy rose up onto his elbows and looked right at me. He must have known I had questions.

“Well?” snapped YanYan, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face. Trust YanYan not to beat around the bush so much as explode from it in a whirlwind of confetti and upbeat pop music.

Cap, Cherry, and Lil Bro leveled a fierce collective glare at YanYan to no effect, but Brassy and I were having our own silent communication session. I shook my head at him, letting him know that I could wait for my answers. No matter how tempting it would be to ask for immediate explanations  and even though I knew that Brassberry would give me those explanations right now if I wanted them, I couldn’t do that to him. He needed to rest more than I needed to be reassured, so I swallowed down every anxious word that sprang into my mouth.

Instead, I reached out a tiny human hand and laid it atop the slim, delicate bones of YanYan’s hand. “Let him sleep,” I said quietly. Since these events impacted my life the most, I had the final say, or so I hoped. YanYan huffed, but he didn’t press the issue. Apparently, I am quite the YanYan whisperer.

“Keep her safe,” I heard Brassy rumble, but when I turned back to him, I noticed that he aimed his words at Cap instead of YanYan. 

There is no denying that Cap is big, strong, and intimidating to those who don’t know him, but I’ve seen Cap react to confrontation and to pain. The big softy is hardly what you’d call bodyguard material, even by human!bitty standards. I just couldn’t imagine gentle, sensitive Cap facing down a determined Royal Guard on my behalf; I wouldn’t ask him to either. If it came to an altercation, I would surrender myself before I allowed any of my skeleton housemates to be injured.

I expected YanYan to protest, to insist that I be handed over to his care immediately until Brassberry recovered (or perhaps permanently), but strangely enough, he nodded his agreement to Cap’s appointment as my protector. If YanYan (who loved to argue) didn’t plan on arguing, neither would I. I mean, aside from Brassberry’s poor condition, no danger had manifested itself anywhere in my vicinity.

With Brassberry’s unconscious body occupying the couch, there wasn’t much else for the rest of us to do except go to our beds and try to get some sleep. Maybe when we all woke up, Brassberry could give us details about what had happened to him during the King’s interrogation… or at least make us some yummy pancakes to soothe our nerves (and stomachs) with syrupy goodness. Maybe he should have made the King some pancakes my tired and overly stressed mind idly mused as Cap picked me up.

Though he and Brassberry were mates, Cap lived in a separate bedroom. I assumed that we would be staying in his room when he carried me carefully up the stairs in stiffly cupped hands. To my surprise, Cap brought me into Brassy’s room. He placed me reverently on my little palatial pillow nest then curled up in his mate’s bed. I think he took comfort in surrounding himself with Brassberry’s scent. I know I did.

Cap put on his bravest face, but unfortunately his bravest face involved a lot of whimpering and forlorn sniffles. Cap was certainly not cut out for strife. I unburied myself from my cozy pillow pile and hopped down onto the bed. Cap watched me as I strolled over to him and began to pet his sticker-covered skull. His eyesockets, wet with tears, closed, and he leaned into my tiny hands so hard that he almost knocked me over. 

When you’re my size, you often rely on others for help. Tonight, I had the remarkable opportunity to give help to someone else- someone much bigger, stronger, and more capable than me. Cap needed my reassurance far more than I needed his protection at that moment. For once, I could provide something other than amusement for one of my skeleton housemates.

It felt amazing.

I continued to stroke Cap’s skull until we finally fell asleep together on Brassy’s pillow. The repercussions of the King’s questioning could wait until we were rested enough to face them.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Project Pancakes resumed with a larger bowl and what Cherry and I estimated was the correct amount of additional milk. Estimating ingredients may have been a mistake on our part, but thankfully, we made a lot of other mistakes too. Mistakes cancel each other out, right? Right?! Cherry and I actually consulted our recipe for our next steps, but I think the recipe book should have included some vocabulary worksheets because neither of us knew what a whisk looked like. Cherry solved our dilemma with some context clues, clever skeleton.

"It says to whisk the ingredients together, so it must be like stirring! We can use a spoon for that!" Cherry beamed proudly when I agreed with his reasoning. Besides, we'd already gathered every available spoon in our search for a teaspoon, so they were all lined up and ready to be whisks! Cherry even made a joke by putting spoons up to his face and calling them whisk -ers. After the tension of last night, it felt nice to laugh.

With his focus returning to the task at hand, Cherry's brow furrowed in concentration. The tip of his red tongue stuck out the side of his mouth, and he stirred those ingredients like the wind or whatever simile applies to stirring something in a vigorous and sort of messy way. I quickly curbed his enthusiasm for the sake of the battered batter. If we spilled again, we would have to start all over, and it had already been quite an ordeal to get this far.

"The recipe says not to over mix it," I reminded him. He lifted me up so that we could assess the pancake batter together. The batter still had some pockets of dry flour and obvious streaks of egg yolk that weren't incorporated into the mixture. We pondered this dilemma with the maximum amount of seriousness.

"How do we know if we mixed it enough?" Cherry’s voice held some well-deserved skepticism.

"It'll be fine once we start cooking it," I ventured with no real confidence. I'm no pancake whisperer. My knowledge of pancakes begins and ends at "flat, round, and edible."

Luckily for us (and we certainly needed it), Cherry knew which pan Brassberry used to make pancakes. The recipe recommended a non-stick pan, and the pan Cherry showed me didn't look like a stick at all. Success! Cherry also produced a flipper, the special utensil that Brassy used to flip the pancakes so they cooked evenly on both sides. I’m not entirely convinced that the utensil is called a flipper, but if we’re making up measurements, we can make up words for kitchen items too. We moved our supplies to the stove for the final, most crucial of steps, and ran into yet another problem.

The pancake recipe stated the batter should be cooked over medium heat, but the stove only had weird knobs and none of them said medium. There weren’t letters or words at all, only numbers. After inspecting the knobs and discussing our strategy, we managed to get a flame going. Behold kitchens, the one room in a house where we light things on fire, hopefully on purpose but sometimes also by accident! So far, our amount and placement of fire was intentional, so I considered it a win.

Within the next five minutes I learned that flour explodes if it gets too hot, that eggs scramble if they aren't mixed into a batter well enough, what "non-stick pan" means, and that you can still get food stuck to them if you are an inept human!bitty chef and an anxiety-ridden skeleton chef’s assistant. We'd barely managed to scrape our lesson in how not to cook out of the pan when it burst into flames. Is milk flammable?!

Smoke began to billow from the pan, and I couldn't tell if the deafening wails assaulting my ears were from Cherry or the smoke detector, though Cherry's hysterical tears suggested the former. Thankfully either the smoke or the noise summoned a knight in orange hoodie armor. Lil Bro just appeared in the kitchen seemingly from thin air. He turned the burner off and slid a lid over the pan to smother the flames. Crisis averted, he surveyed the kitchen. I can't imagine what he must have thought of us.

One human!bitty stood sheepishly on the counter covered in a fine patina of floor. Milk and flour spattered the countertop, cabinets, and floor. Utensils were scattered over every available surface, and Cherry was rocking back and forth on the floor with batter from the flour explosion on top of his skull. Only Lil Bro’s timely intervention prevented us from turning our intentional fire into an accidental one. Our win had devolved into a major L.

The single surviving pancake sat on a plate. It was not round. It was not flat. I doubted anyone would want to check if it was edible. We would definitely not be having pancakes for breakfast today.

Chapter Text

As a true testament to Brassberry’s exhaustion, the scent and sound of a potential house fire didn't wake him. It did, however, summon our remaining housemates, who made their entrances to the scene of the crime against breakfast in a rather grandiose fashion. As a side note, this also did not wake Brassberry though YanYan and Cap must have passed right by his prone, drooling form on the couch during their heroic charge to the kitchen.

Cap exploded through the doorway, blue and orange eyelights darting frantically around the kitchen warzone that Cherry and I had created. The moment he spotted me in all of my wearing-the-ingredients glory, he rushed over, scooping me into his hands and lifting me up to his face to scrutinize me for injuries or impending death. With a surprising gentleness, his large thumb wiped the flour from my face. I saw actual tears in his sockets as he gave me a relieved nuzzle with minimal bitty-crushing involved. I guess he took his bitty protection assignment really seriously, so I patted him and murmured reassurances about my safety and his diligence.

My vantage point pressed against Cap's cheekbone also gave me an unobstructed view of YanYan in all of his dramatic glory as he very literally swept into the room like a Southern belle descending a grand staircase to swoon over the news of her husband's untimely death… complete with ensemble. Yanyan wore an absolutely normal black satin teddy, the pinnacle of comfort and luxury, but he'd also thrown on a sheer black floor-length cover-up complete with feather trim. He delicately fished a slice of lime out of one of his sockets, tossing it carelessly into the sink before assessing the situation that must have dragged him from his requisite beauty sleep. Wait, did skeletons use limes on their sockets instead of cucumbers?

I held back a hysterical giggle imagining tiny pancakes instead of limes or cucumbers.

Yanyan sighed, then strode over to the counter to peer at the singular pathetic not quite pancake. "SOMEONE OTHER THAN BRASSBERRY TRIED TO MAKE BREAKFAST AGAIN, DIDN'T THEY?" His tone held absolutely no surprise. How often did this happen?

Cherry sniffled from his spot on the floor, trying to control his sobbing enough to squeak out an apology, but Yanyan quickly shushed him.

"IT LOOKS A LOT BETTER THAN MY LAST ATTEMPT," he commented, actually kneeling down to place a hand on Cherry's shoulder. That’s right, Yanyan knelt on the dirty kitchen floor, in the rubble of our disaster area and actually initiated a comforting touch on our smallest (aside from me, of course) housemate. Cherry leaned into the touch, and Yanyan swallowed his uncertainty and let him.

Lil Bro grabbed a mug, and a bottle of syrup from the cupboard. He filled the mug with syrup, then tore up the failed pancake and tossed it in as well. I got strong "hot cocoa with miniature marshmallow" vibes despite the unusual substitutions. There’s a thin line between “not a picky eater” and “consuming actual garbage,” and Lil Bro shuffled past that line, mug in hand.

We all watched in horrified awe as Lil Bro chugged his beverage.

When he finished, he laid his hand on Cherry's other shoulder. "tastes a lot better than my last attempt." The magic words soothed Cherry’s panic to a controllable level.

Cherry let out a wheezy little chuckle, and Lil Bro and Yanyan shared a quick glance over his back that clearly stated that they'd accomplished their mission of consoling Cherry for the low, low price of a bit of humility and choking down a mug of syrup-lubed inedible pancakes.

With the entire crisis now truly averted and nobody eager to start cleaning up the mess, we discussed some alternatives for breakfast. Unfortunately, breakfast time slipped away during the course of our misguided cooking attempts, but that also meant that restaurants were now open for the early lunch crowd. Cap suggested grabbing some Grillby’s to go, and with only one house member abstaining from the vote (due to sleep), the decision was unanimous. 

I doubted Brassberry would've dissented anyway. He loved Grillby’s, and even if that fact had changed since yesterday morning, his only other choice for a meal had been utterly destroyed by culinary ineptitude. Collectively, the housemates and I opted to close the door on the kitchen and simply leave the problem for the future, a future in which we move to a new house with a not-ruined kitchen.

These aren't the droids you're looking for. Ignore that man behind the curtain. There is no war in Ba Sing Se. What kitchen disaster? Now, I have no idea how those pop culture references played out due to limited TV access, but I'm sure things worked out just fine with minimal effort from those involved. I'm usually right, except when it comes to pancake measurements. 

In hindsight, Cherry and I probably would've gotten the same results if we just used bombs like Mettaton suggested….

Chapter Text

Cherry's severe anxiety ruled him out as our food fetcher, and Lil Bro declared that he'd met his activity quota for the month. Yanyan couldn't be bothered with menial tasks like lifting and carrying, nor could he be seen in a lowbrow location like Grillby’s. That left the task of gathering our meals to fall upon Cap's broad and hopefully capable shoulders. It also meant that I would be going to Grillby’s since Cap took his job as my caretaker so seriously that he refused to let me out of his sight again. 

I don't blame him. If my “pet” trashed my kitchen so badly that the entire worldly concept of breakfast suffered a critical hit, I wouldn't leave them unsupervised either. Brassberry never took me to Grillby’s with him though because the Snowdin Royal Guard frequented the establishment. Nobody else seemed concerned, but I couldn't help wondering if this was a good idea (says the human!bitty who thought a homemade pancake breakfast was a good idea).

Gathering everyone's order became another ordeal in our fraught-with-peril quest to just have a meal today since each skeleton had specific requests, and each of his housemates felt the need to pass commentary on those requests.

Cherry asked for the Junior Grillby’s Special with extra mustard on the burger and fries, which was met with a chorus of indignation and outrage. I added a tiny “eww” under my breath. Mustard is gross, but I didn't want Cherry to feel bad. Hopefully someone else would order something that I could nibble off of. Lil Bro dashed those hopes when he spoke up next. He wanted the Grillby’s Special with, of all things, honey slathered on the burger and fries.

“Degenerate,” hissed Yanyan.

"Gross,” Cap said, making an exaggerated gagging sound.

“Why?” cried a distraught Cherry.

I just gave my best Neutral Face of Displeasure but said nothing. Maybe Yanyan would share his food with me. He had impeccable taste… except when it came to burgers and fries apparently. 

Before Yanyan told us what he wanted, he launched into a lengthy tirade about the quality of any establishment that didn't serve Glamburgers. To Yanyan, the Glamburger (which I'd never even heard of) was the pinnacle of branded gourmet cuisine, unrivaled by anything that came out of the cut-rate grease trap next door. I assume he meant Grillby’s. Yanyan took a moment to collect himself from the emotional distress of not getting a Glamburger and dictated a long and complicated order to us with special requests for things like kale, tofurkey, vegan cheese, and sprouted chia seed buns. I looked around, sure that the haughty skeleton was joking, but the other housemates were just sighing and rolling their eyelights.

Tofurkey is a real thing? What the heck is it? Toes? Fur? Keys?! I grew more alarmed the more I considered the possibilities, and I hadn't even thought about the other ingredients yet!

“you're really gonna waste a trip to Grillby’s on health food?” Lil Bro asked,  scornful. Ah, healthy foods. Antioxidants and Omega-3s and superfoods and whatnot. I know nothing about health-conscious options; I am all about flavor with the curves to prove it. You couldn't change Yanyan's mind by mocking him though. A person needed tact and an appeal to the skeleton’s ego for that.

“You're already so slender, Yanyan. Isn't kale and-” I struggled to remember the words he'd used. “-tofurkey for people who are on diets?”

Yanyan preened at the compliment, just like I knew he would. “I WOULDN'T WANT ANYONE TO THINK I NEED TO DIET. I GUESS I'LL GET THE SPECIAL.” Finally, food that I can actually eat with no weird add-ons! “WITH EXTRA GLITTER ON THE BURGER AND FRIES!”

Dammit!

I couldn't count on Brassberry, asleep or not, to choose something normal. His usual consisted of a Grillby’s Special double with steak fries. This might seem normal for a monster who prides himself on being tough and macho, even if the fries are thick cut potatoes and not actual meat. The problem is what he does to the aforementioned food. He absolutely saturates it in appalling amounts of ketchup. 

Cap was my only hope to finally get a taste of non-ketchup-flavored food from the Underground's famous Grillby’s Bar and Grill. I believed in him, but I got a bit less confident and a lot more nervous when Cap placed me carefully against his cervical vertebrae and tucked a warm scarf around me. I usually rode around in Brassy's pocket, safely hidden from sight. Sure, I could enjoy the view from Cap's mountainous height, but any monster we passed could easily spot me.

I felt exposed, despite burrowing down into my little scarf nest. Maybe Grillby’s, a popular hangout and restaurant destination, would be totally empty during the lunch rush? A very small and vulnerable girl can hope.

“Make sure nothing happens to our human!bitty,” Yanyan called to us as we stepped outside, which isn't at all ominous. I watched the door close on him, flanked on either side by Lil Bro and Cherry who nodded their agreement to ensuring my safety against dangers unknown (to me anyway).

I was now alone with Cap in the big, wide dangerous world of Snowdin, and all I could think of was that I'd been upgraded from vermin to pest to Brassy's pet to their human!bitty.