Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Story originally started on 2018, first version completed on Saturday, December 7, 2019.

Remake Starting date: Sunday 27, April 2025.

Remake Completion date: Tuesday 29, April 2025.

Dedicated to one of my faithful readers from 2018; Dannalinda.com. Wherever you are, I wish you the best. Thank you for supporting me during those troubling times.

Trivia: Originally, this story was titled "Confession"

Undertale.

Glitchtale AU.

One-shot.

Frisk x Betty

"I live for you"

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Her first memories were hazy, to say the least. After all, when a mage casted the spell of the "Black Beast", they weren't meant to survive, more often than not, they were meant to use their own soul to create the perfect tool of destruction; the embodiment of their legacy. Of everything they were until that point, and continue onwards, carrying their hopes and dreams into the future, fulfilling whatever directive they had given her.

Betty was no different.

"Remember..."

Agate spoke, the last remnants of her spirit being nothing more than a shadow. The eldest sibling of the Lightvale trio was nothing but a memory by that point. Noire had been sleeping for around 1000 years ever since Agate herself murdered both her little sister, Amber, and Copper that same night, all because of their disagreements and her own views. To the rest of history and the world, she was nothing but a traitor, a genocidal, a maniac. But to Betty? she was the closest thing she could have as a mother.

Her creator, and the reason for her existence.

The orangeish spectre spoke in one of the last nights of her hibernation. While neither Agate nor Betty could feel nor tell when the barrier would break; it could very well be another one-thousand years, or tomorrow. That wasn't important, no. The pinkette, no older than twelve, looked upwards. While the face that stared back at her was that of her little sister, to Agate, everything related to her old life was long gone, just like her body, and soon enough, what little remained of her.

"Mother..."

The creature known as the Black Beast spoke, resting her head against the mage's left hand, like a kitten. The orange silhouette, while lacking any sort of features, emanated some warmth that, surprisingly, seemed to both melt and ease up the child's evil nature. Agate floated even closer to the little girl she had created born from her own soul and her dead sister's corpse, her right hand extending itself around Noire's shoulders, embracing her for a hug as less and less of her essence remained, vanishing into the afterlife.

No matter where she went, heaven, or more than likely; hell. She would make sure to pass on not just her feelings, and hopes onto this child, but what little left of humanity there was in her. Betty, despite her usually cold and mean exterior, part of her nature as a Negative Trait soul; Fear, accepted and embraced her mother's love. Her arms squeezed the woman's back, her chin rested up on one of her shoulders, as a small smile started to form itself on Agate's lips. If only things had been different, if only she could stay and guide this little baby girl into a future where monsters were gone, and humans were all that was left.

But it couldn't be. She had to go, she had to say goodbye.

"You're the strongest than any of them... destroy them... destroy them all..."

A nod. Two nods, three nods. Lightvale's fingers squeezed the girl's pink sweater, the strength of her grip carried with it all the affection and love she felt towards that little girl. Yes, she might've not been born from her womb like a normal child. Yes, her voice and face might've been that of Amber's, but by all means, Bete Noire was hers, her little child, her precious baby, her only heir.

The only living being Agate Ligthvale, former Bravery, now Fear the 1st, cared for.

"You can do it... Betty... "

The girl's broken lips trembled as Noire felt her heart tigthening up inside her chest. Betty? that was her new name... ? yes. Yes, it wasn't that original, considering the name of her spell was "Bete Noire", but both of them saw it as perfect. Betty saw it as perfect, because her mother gave it to her. And Agate saw it as perfect, because despite her demonic-looking exterior, at the core of it all, this girl was precious to her. Regretably, despite not wanting to let go, the orange-haired wizard couldn't stay much longer.

Her spirit, dragged away by the afterlife, started to vanish into light, as Betty felt her conciousness fading, back into her slumber, awaiting for the day the barrier would break, but even so... even so; Fear the second extended her hand towards the heavens, trying to reach out for the woman who created and raised her. They had interacted with no more than ten times over the course of a millennia, but it was more than enough. She would do it, she would fulfill her destiny to murder Determination, extinguish monsterkind, and guide humanity into a brighter future.

Agate's memories, and Copper's stupidity were all the proof Betty needed to know they wouldn't survive without a guide. Sooner or later, they would end up destroying themselves. The former Bravery saw her child sinking back into the whiteness of her own mind, as she slowly disolved, but even so, she could both see and sense her resolve strengthening, growing more, behind those pink eyes of hers, a fire so similar to hers, that did nothing but fuel the pride she already felt alongside easing up her passing.

"You... can... "

And thus, both mother and daughter were separated. The last two words Agate Lightvale, the murderer of her own two siblings, one of seven creators of the barrier that imprisoned monsterkind under Mount Ebott, spoke in the living realm.

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From then on, things should've been easier. If only Agate... Mother, had lasted just a tiny bit more, she would've been able to see it. The day Betty truly woke up from her hibernation, the moment the barrier got shattered and the monsters were freed from their imprisonment, Betty woke up, feeling unease, and weirded out by the fact that for the first time ever, she was alive and awake. Getting accustomed to her own body wasn't very difficult, but her priorities were already set in stone; first thing first, she needed information.

What date was it? What year? How was the barrier broken? and by who?

"Hmph..."

Recalling those memories left a bitter sense of taste in the spell's mouth. The brown-haired girl had regressed back into her true form, merging her soul with Akumu, her other half, to regain her full arsenal after what Undyne did to her. She almost destroyed her back in the Nullifier, with just one attack, and if it hadn't been thanks to the Hate Vial she stole from Jessica, she would've been dead. Agate's legacy tightened up her claw, clenching her fist as the pink fingers sank themselves into her palm.

The overwhelming rage she felt... the humiliation... for just a brief moment, it seemed to ease up and calm down the sadness that had been plaguing her for quite a while.

THROOOMP~

The fact that it was a rainy night and, to top it all of, a thunderous one, didn't made Betty's predicament any easier. She wasn't kind naturally, she had never been, after all... she was Fear; a Negative trait. The opposite of her Mother's bravery, a Black Beast like her wasn't meant to feel good emotions, but she did. She had a heart, a brain, and a will of her own, even if it all had been inherited by her mother, Betty wasn't Amber, nor Agate, nor anyone else but her. Betty Noire, the Black Beast, the second soul of fear, and the fated enemy of determination.

"How did things end up this way... ?"

She asked to no one in particular, walking towards the only chair and table in the room of the cabin she used as her house. The house of the Ligthtvale Family hadn't been demolished as Ebott Realm turned into Ebott City as some sort of "monument" to the tragedy of the three brothers, for humans to never forget that part of their history, nor the sins her mother commited. What a joke... if there was someone who should be called a villain, should be Copper himself. Copper, Amber, Asgore, Asriel, Chara, Frisk, All of them!

Bunch of hypocrites.

How could they be so stupid as to not understand the dangers of humankind and monsterkind living together? of what atrocity could happen to the whole earth if a monster were to become a god? another war that humans, even with their technology, would never win. Noire sighed as her eyes slowly concentrated themselves on the white paper sheet, and the pencil. How? how did things ended up this way? that was her question, but she couldn't find her answer. It was impressive, really.

Those ten times she managed to wake up inside her own mind; her own soul, during her hibernation to practice with her mother how to become a true warrior, she always thought her mission would be easy. The barrier gets broken; she wakes up, finds Determination, her fated rival, and destroys him, before extinguishing monsterkind and ruling humanity to guide them into an eternal empire of Prosperity, ruled by Fear. Not that complicated in scheme, after all, she WAS the strongest. Made to be a ruler, and the ultimate one to triumph in the end.

But meeting Frisk was what changed it all. What had she expected? from what Mother had told her, Betty had always believed that the Soul of Determination from her era, her destiny; her fate would be an unparalleled warrior with no equal, except her. Her complete opposite, regardless of whatever their beliefs were, Betty truly hoped, wanted and expected Determination to be all she dreamed of, and so much more... instead, what the world gave her was Frisk.

Frisk Dreemurr. The child with no name.

The World master who, in his endless curiosity, wielded the power to Reset, Save and Load the world to dive into the Underground because he wanted an "adventure"; and then proceeded to befriend anyone who stood in his path, with a genuine smile in his face, showing everyone nothing but kindness. Kindness that, as much as Betty both WANTED and tried to deny it, was genuine.

But that's why she grew angrier the more she thought about it.

Because he believed himself as a god. She wouldn't have any problem with Frisk and may, key word; MAY have been able to sort it out and be willing to cooperate with monsterkind if he hadn't become just like Asriel when he was Flowey the Flower; and killed everyone in his path not once, nor twice, but hundreds of times because of his boredom. He couldn't stand the idea of doing the same over and over again, nor Frisk could tolerate the idea of just putting an end to his adventure in the Underground.

When their eyes met for the first time that day she tricked him, getting a full read of his soul and memories, she couldn't believe the kind of monster he was. Betty had expected a valiant hero who fought for what was right, someone who, just like Copper Lightvale, embodied the same qualities of chivalry and justice, what was right, in both heart, body, mind and spirit...

Instead, what she got was someone way worse than Chara.

Someone that only saw humanity and monsterkind as tools, pawns in a chest game for his own entertainment.

"Grrrr... "

Her mission should've been clear. She killed Sans, god damn it. She killed SO many people, both monsters and humans, taking their souls to fuel herself and reach her strongest potential from then on. "No", she said to herself, completely discarding the idea of working or sorting things out with either Asgore, Asriel or Frisk, their sins were way too big for Betty to find any mercy inside her already small, naturally evil heart.

As the demonic teenager growled, her right claw rested against her chest; more specifically the place where her soul was, quite close to her heart.

Frisk.

Frisk.

Frisk... !

The more she thought about him, the more the overwhelming rage, hate and sadness grew inside her heart. Things shouldn't have been this way, damn it. They just... SHOULDN'T have been this way! A sigh escaped the girl's mouth; the raindrops hitting the rooftop like bullets drilling her ears, alongside the "Bump, bump" coming from her chest, the darkness growing, darker, colder, yet her own magic, Fear, keeping it at bay so whatever the thing living in that black goo infecting her couldn't consume her completely.

Her hair, naturally brown, shone with a lighter pink, feeling both the warm sensation of her magic and the coldness of Hate coursing through her veins, fighting for control, but it was difficult. Noire was losing itself more each day, unless she tried to think about that... "other" part of herself. The part that had her stuck in this predicament, and what motivated her in the first place to write a stupid, freaking letter.

A letter.

It was laughable, really. Who could've thought that, despite all of Mother's teachings, speeches, and that Betty truly believed in Agate's ideology of guiding humanity, even if they didn't want to, because they needed it... what would end up putting her against the wall wouldn't be the scarlet-colored sword of Determination, nor the combined efforts of both Humans and Monsters working together.

No... what cornered Betty was none other than Betty herself.

The only thing that she couldn't fight against...

Her heart.

She was meant to hate Frisk. She was meant to kill him; as the user of Determination from this Era, the ambassador of Monsterkind, their hero, the ultimate symbol of hope for both Races to unite and walk towards a peaceful future. Each time she thought of him, two things bloomed inside Fear The second's soul: Hate, her own, natural born hate, disgust and repulsion towards Frisk's hypocrisy. He befriended, treated with care and love EACH and every single monster on the Underground, before slaughtering them all like it wasn't a big deal...

And now he dared think he deserved a second chance? a happy ending? he cried when she killed Sans? Sans? after having killed him countless times himself with his own bare hands?

How could he cry about it when back in the last timeline before this one, he laughed maniacally after his blade finally reached the older brother of the Skeleton duo? it was stupid. It made no sense. Betty couldn't understand it, and she hated him for it. She had many reasons to Hate Frisk; his hypocrisy, the fact that he betrayed everyone he knew; everyone he called a "friend", looking at them with eyes filled with love, care, warmth and affection... before sinking his blade into them, coating his soul in dust.

In darkness.

A "Reset" didn't made his sins wash away.

He wasn't what she wanted him to be. What she had hoped. Betty deserved better, and not only hers. The Monsters did so as well, but Frisk wasn't open with his own feelings, he planned to take his own genocides to his grave, never once being honest. Never once not saying a lie. Knowing he cried and screamed that day Asriel told him about Sans' demise should've made Betty happy.

It should have... but it didn't.

Just like now, it made her heart tighten up and it made her feel angry. Seeing Frisk cry should've been her greatest pleasure. The idea of hurting him, ripping each and every single one of his limbs, one by one, to torture him and dismember him after a hard-fought battle, before taking his soul as her prize, should've been her greatest joy; her greatest dream. That's what she was made for; Fear and Determination were intertwined for over one-thousand years, he was her rival, and the one that was meant to fight against her to decide the fate of the world.

But... all of those ideas, it didn't made her happy.

C-Crrrack~

The sound of wood cracking underneath her fingers snapped her away from her trance. The Human-looking spell looked down on her hand, observing, much to her annoyance, how part of her claws had sunk into the wood, due to her anger, she hadn't paid attention to the amount of strength she was using... luckily, the pen and the paper sheet were still intact, that was... good. This late into the night, sending another Pink Blob into the City to gather some resources would be hard, especially because everyone was looking for her with desperation.

To put her out of her misery, of course, and to prevent more deaths.

Betty sighed, the white vapor coming out of her lips as her claws closed gently around the pencil's wood, before pointing it out to the paper. The rain would be a nice source of inspiration and... perhaps, writing her thoughts, her feelings, would help her. If nothing else, she might be able to discard them and focus on her mission, but if this didn't work... then...

She wasn't really sure she would be able to actually continue her killing spree.

Because each time she thought about Frisk crying again, holding another one of his close ones, it made her heart hurt.

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Mother always told me humans tend to pour their feelings and thoughts; what bothers them, into paper sheet. Some call them "Memories", recalling events of their life from their oldest memory to the present day, meanwhile, others turn them into diaries as a way to not forget what they've done in their daily routines. I never saw the appeal in this, I still can't do, even now.

Even now... I feel restless. I feel uneasy.

Frisk... you're the only one that's meant to read this.

I wonder... where are you right now, as I am writing this? are you still sad about the death of that comedian? Or have you cried the deaths of the children I killed during my assault to your mother's school? are there any feelings of betrayal plaguing your soul right now? resentment? hate? I wonder how do you feel about me, but I don't know how could I feel if you looked at me with the same eyes I look at you with.

The eyes I should be looking at you with, at least.

I should hate you fully, I should despise you. Everything you are, everything that makes you "you", I should hate it, from the bottom of my heart, but I do. I do, and I do not. The idea of causing you suffering... I always deamed of it, even before waking up. I've seen all your memories, all your life, from the oldest memory you have, to the newest one, after your eyes met mine for the very first time when I tricked you that day.

Do you remember it? It was the day I tricked you into thinking I would get run over by a car, one that was never there in the first place.

Let me tell you about my oldest memories. Mine. Not of my mother's.

When I first woke up inside my mind, my head was resting on her lap. I felt dazed. Confused. For just a brief moment, I didn't knew what or who I was, but even so, those orange eyes started at me. My first interaction ever with someone was that woman showing me her affection, her eyes, tender, lovingly caressing my head, smiling at me as if I was the most precious thing, and then I snapped. Everything she had gone through, until the moment of her death, coursing through my mind in mere seconds, alongside a sense of understanding.

I was a "Black Beast", the soul of Fear. The Heir to Agate Lightvale's legacy, and my sole purpose, was ruling humankind, and destroy the soul of determination.

They say that "those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it"; that was mother's biggest mistake, and the reason for my creation. Every one-hundred years I spent fighting and training with her, learning how to become better, how to kill, how to fight, how to defend myself, and knowing my strength and weaknesses more and more, as she told me stories from her past.

Whenever she spoke of you, my enemy, my nemesis, I pictured and expected something entirely different. A gallant knight, in shinning armor, fighting for "what was right", Frisk. I thought you'd be some sort of grand hero, loved by many, just as Mother's sibling was. Always living in his shadow, despite being the older one of the two, she was never enough.

One month. It took me one month of watching you from the sidelines to find the perfect moment to approach you, and when I did... when I saw your memories for the first time, who the so called "Hero of monsterkind" truly was, to say you disappointed me would be aun understatement. You were nothing like what I expected; you've hurt, betrayed, lied, used and mistreated those you called friends. Your hypocrisy enraged me. Your flaws angered me. Your killings and your lies made my soul burn inside my chest.

You weren't a savior. You weren't a Messiah. You weren't a knight. You weren't chivalrous.

You weren't a hero, nor what I was promised all my existence.

You were a Liar. A Genocidal. A maniac. An hypocrite. A Demon. A Traitor.

A Murderer.

By that point, I had made up my mind. For the sake of the whole world, and humanity, you needed to die. If the world forgave you, then it would be me, me and me alone who would be your judge and finish what that Skeleton couldn't... and then you saved me.

.

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"Hmm... ?"

The pinkette stopped her writing at that very moment when she noticed something foreign. Something warm yet wet fell through her cheek; the girl took her claw towards her cheek, caressing it softly as her fingers stained themselves. Indeed, just as she had suspected, a silent tear came out of her eye without her knowledge as she recalled what she had felt that day. The little girl admired the transparent liquid on her fingers, before throwing it away; no more than one tear, just a single one, but it was more than enough.

She was sad.

And Betty didn't like being sad, because she didn't knew how to deal with these type of emotions. What she was meant to feel were joy and delight because of her making others suffer; the agony and of course, fear in their faces was meant to power up her soul, enhance her magic, make her stronger, rinse and repeat, and so far, it worked. It had worked perfectly, but then they met.

She was meant to hate Frisk, to destroy him. That's it, that's all. But the more she searched in his memories, the more contradictions she found within his personality. Usually, Betty was quite good at reading people, she could get a good character in everyone but two; Asriel and of course, Frisk himself. To a certain extent, she understood "Flowey", the goat prince couldn't feel anything for many years after his and Chara's deaths.

But Frisk was different; he never lost his soul, nor suffered a fate many would consider worse than death. The inability to feel anything, which could, to some extent, justify Asriel's actions... partially, that is. Yet, Frisk never lost his soul. He always was "Himself", determined to reach the end, determined to have the adventure he craved so dearly, repeating the happy end over and over again.

Befriending everyone over and over again... and killing them, over and over again.

"But why... ?"

The problem Betty found was the contradiction that was Frisk's existence. He was good, yet he was evil. He was evil, yet he was good. He did both good and bad things, and decided to go on. Despite all his mistakes, he told Sans "from now on, I just want to continue" after the barrier was broken. That's what Betty couldn't understand.

Why would someone "good" betray and hurt everyone they loved, toying with their lives for so long... and somehow, still remain good? Now that Frisk lost the ability to Reset, Save and Load the timeline, no longer the World Master, if he died, his death would be final. Was that what made him change? or had he always been good? had he always been caring? He was an hypocrite, sure.

But even she wasn't sure if evil and good could coexist into someone; let alone someone who had so many sins on his back.

This is why she was in this predicament. Her own ideals and ideology was colliding with Frisk's current actions, his behavior, his pain at losing those he considered friends, the lack of sleep and how his physical and mental state seemed to be deteriorating rapidly due to the lack of hunger, sleep and the anxiety plaguing him ever since she sent Papyrus to prison, and got both Sans and Alphys killed.

His genuine love is what she couldn't understand, alongside, of course, the nature of her own feelings for the Dreemurr's adopted son.

.

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I don't understand my own feelings, Frisk. But above all else; I fail to understand you.

When you saved me from that car I casted so we could interact and become closer, I didn't expect our travel with Jessica to show me so much about who you were as a person. Did it open my eyes?... somewhat. Somewhat... when your arms held Toriel that day, calling her "Mom" so openly, I thought on all the times you killed her without a second thought.

The first time, it was an accident. You cried out, filled with regret, probably thinking "If I hurt her enough, I'll get out of the ruins", but you were careless. Reckless. You murdered her, and instantly went back to find a different ending. I found it strange, how at first, you tried to use your Reset Powers as little as you could, just trying to survive on your own, and then you stopped caring about others.

Because you could always go back, but not anymore.

Sans is gone.

Alphys is gone.

Those children I killed, they're gone too, and nothing you do can change that.

Even so... you held and squeezed Toriel because she had always been the closest thing you had as a Mother. That's something I could understand; I could relate to you. A motherly figure... if it wasn't for my Creator, I would've never known what its like to care about someone. That expression of pride she looked at you with was the exact same my Mother used to give me during our training sessions inside my head.

And, no matter how much I tried to deny it, I could see it in your face; I could feel it in your soul, your determination growing because of your joy. Of the love you felt at being praised and cared for by that woman, despite having killed and betrayed her countless times yourself. How? why? it just made no sense. That's when the thoughts already plaguing my mind after knowing you, did nothing but increase.

There's good in evil.

There's evil in good.

They could coexist, as strange as it sounded. It made no sense, it still doesn't, but your actions and your love for those people... the willingness of both Asriel and Sans to forgive you despite knowing you killed them all, I can't understand it. Why? where's the resentment? where's the hate? where's the evil and joy present on your face when you were slaughtering them all?

Nowhere, that's the answer. I don't know if you changed, I still don't.

All I know is... you've not left my head for a single moment, Frisk.

Even if it was something as simple as us both having a motherly figure we cared about and loved, I felt closer to you than ever before, and it made me question a lot of things. After all, I was lying to everyone just like you, waiting for the perfect moment to strike you down, and prevent the peace negotiations between humans and monsters. Was I better than you? did my goal justified my actions?

Or were we... are we just two hypocrites?

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.

This was the second time she stopped, wanting to ponder on her thoughts. Were they two hypocrites?

"Yes... the answer is yes... "

The wielder of fear said to herself, ceasing her writing, the paper sheet was already full, but luckily, she still had a couple more. She had stolen around five, more than enough to pour her heart and soul into it, but by this point, since she needed more than one sheet, it meant this wouldn't be just a mere "love letter", more like what people called "Memoirs".

Noire sighed, observing the oil lamp, the only source of light in the entire cabin. Regardless of her own feelings and what her point of view was towards her mother's actions, and her own, things had changed. After meeting Frisk, she wasn't that sure if Mother's views on humans and monsters were right. The threat of a monster absorbing 7 humans souls was and would always remain, reaching godhood and condemning all life on the planet, or worse.

Humanity was stupid, and could maybe end up causing its own destruction, but the key word Agate hadn't thought of was "Maybe". The fact that Frisk was capable of both great harm and great good equally, just as Betty herself, made her question everything, from her own nature, her directive, her goal, her purpose, and what it meant to be a "human".

"Hm..."

A small blush appeared on her cheeks at that very moment, before she stood up from the chair, starting to walk around in circles, trying to put her mind in order. Betty's closed fists rested behind her back; her eyes finding themselves stuck to the only window; the pitch black darkness of Ebott's forest staring back at her, before another thunder fell into the distance, lighting up the whole place for a brief moment; the unmistakable shape of the Mount flashing for just a second, alongside the buildings and skycrapers on the horizon.

Agate's child turned around again, starting to walk to the other side of the room, closing her eyelids; Betty breathed in slowly, filling her lungs with air as her own footsteps echoed through the room, mixing themselves with her heartbeat and the rain. Hate tried to push back and take over her existence, but the magic and Fear themselves fought back fiercely, using both her natural resistance to corruption, memories from the fear of dying when her blobs killed their victims, and... the warmth thinking of Frisk brought to her cheeks.

The girl frowned slightly.

Bump, bump, bump.

Her heart started to pound violently against her chest. Their interactions hadn't been that many prior to her "betrayal", but she looked at them fondly. Back at school, when Akumu came out of her sleeve to protect her upon feeling Toriel growing closer, Frisk went as far as to call Kumu "Awesome", without a second thought. Not just Kumu, but her too. After Jessica left the school because of her bad memories with Alina coming to the surface, he didn't waste time in grabbing her hand, intertwining their fingers, and running away with a "I love you mom!" so they could both go out, looking for Jessica.

She could still recall the sensation. Akumu growling, transformed into a flower-shaped hairpin, while her soul burned with delight, as did her cheeks. Frisk running in front of her, laughing and cackling, not menacingly. Not maniacally.

Just... cheerfully.

Genuinely happy.

"Come on! I'll show you all around Ebott while looking for Miss Jessica!"

Show her around he did. While Betty could read memories and have a faint idea of how someone felt based on them, she wasn't a telepath by any means, god no. But now she pondered about the idea of Frisk using Jessica as an excuse. Was he actually trying to have a "date" with her? because he stopped at any place he could find, from jewelry stores, to clothes store, with the excuse that maybe she'd want to get something for herself or anything similar, her comments weren't as enthusiastic as they should've been, even if she was pretending to be an "Innocent" little girl.

Unlike Frisk, who smiled and seemed to shine with excitement whenever they were alone, Betty drowned herself in doubts and confusion, not quite sure of what to do. After all, he was her nemesis, the one who betrayed and killed, played with anyone he called a friend, and the one she was fated to kill and defeat in a brutal, bloody battle where his soul was her reward.

There he was; laughing and holding her hand tightly, dragging her across the entire town.

That's when inspiration hit her, and she decided to pick up the second paper sheet, going back into the table to resume her confession.

.

.

Let me go dive deeper into something else, Frisk.

Us, you and me.

We're unique.

We're the only ones of our kin. The only red soul of your era; the only pink soul there had ever been. You and me, Determination and Fear, intertwined by destiny, by my mother's actions, our blades were meant to clash one day, and so were our paths meant to cross regardless of what you or I did, I'm sure of it. Perhaps even if you hadn't broken up the barrier, I would've woken up from my slumber, looking for your presence so we could meet as it was foretold.

Perhaps things would've gone different; you would've been different yourself, without any of those sins you carry on your back, a white sheet, just an adventurer blessed by the world carrying the strongest trait there ever was.

The only one I can consider my equal, my rival, my destiny and just like you're mine, I am yours.

Can you get it? can you see my perspective? even if just a tiny bit? I feel like a lone wolf, despite always having my mother by my side until recently, I never, not once, felt the same bond with her that I feel whenever I think of you. My mother made me feel safe, made me feel loved, her presence was warm and inviting, does it ring a bell? does it make you think of Toriel, your mother?

When I think of you... its different. I feel something else; a pull that makes me want to go with you, while your memories course through my mind, every action you've ever done, flashing before my eyes, and this... overwhelming rage and desire to shout at you and hit your face, slash your body, and demand you an explanation. But at the same time... at the same time... when I think about killing you, I...

I dislike the idea.

My soul tingles, and the idea hurting you stops bringing me joy. My heart tightens up inside my chest when I picture your bloody body, your face; damaged beyond any recognition, staring back at me as the smell of blood, sweat and tears mix up on your skin. Saying "Sorry" is not something I'm accustomed nor interested in, its not in my nature... but this new-found mercy also shouldn't be in my nature either.

The desire to stop hurting you; the inner pain coming from within, shouldn't be in me either, yet they are, they exist, they're real. They annoy me, they anger me, they confuse me, and its why everything I know, believe and fight for is thrown into disarray.

When I pretended to be your friend, I wanted to trick you, you and everyone else. Soon enough the facade would have to end, and my mission would start... I tricked everyone, I could lie to everyone... but myself.

I can't escape this pain. I can't escape these feelings.

This desire I have of hurting you, yet not doing so at the same time; the pain I feel inside of me when I imagine your bloody eyes staring back at me, so weak to even lift your arms and push me away, expecting a final blow, as you close your eyelids, no more red. No more defiance. No more determination. Just giving up, and allowing me to win.

Yet I can't bring myself to hurt you... I've thought about it.

Why? why can't I not fathom the idea of killing you as I've always dreamt of?

I've thought about a world without you, where you're not in it. And suddently, this feeling of loneliness and emptiness that's been plaguing me ever since Mother left, grows colder. It grows stronger, darker, so much so that I've found myself trembling, holding my own body in my arms at the idea of "us" not being a thing anymore.

I don't understand you... I don't understand myself anymore... things that used to be so clear to me, somehow, don't make sense anymore.

Nothing does... except one thing.

I need you.

.

.

THROOOOOOOOMP~

It was as if the world itself wanted to deal her a losing hand, or mess more with her head. Right as she finished the last sentence, a thunder fell from the skies, as if life itself warned her of how dangerous that thought was. Fear and Determination weren't meant to be together, they were meant to be enemies, rivals, they couldn't coexist, it wasn't natural.

It was as if suddently birds could breathe underwater, or pigs got wings, learning how to fly the skies.

It just wasn't meant to be... and she wanted it to be so, so badly. Betty re-read her own words, her own thoughts, over and over again.

I need you. I need you. I need you. I need you

"I... need you..."

Those cursed words came out of her lips without thinking, even Fear surprised herself when she heard them. Noire took her left hand to her mouth, surprised at what she had just said. What did she just say... ? I need you. I need you. She clearly could remember it, three simple words that, not only were there on the paper, wrote by her own hand, but they resonated inside her head, like an echo, a scratched record, a loop.

She needed Frisk.

The pink/brown-haired girl felt her cheeks burn. Burn as embarrassment manifested itself in form of that accursed red color, feeling how her heart increased its speed more and more, situations so simple for human standards, yet so forbidden in her eyes, popping up alongside her own self-realization.

How would it be… to be together?

Not as rivals. Not as enemies. But as Equals. As opposites; just like the earth needed both a Sun and a Moon, Determination needed Fear as much as Fear needed Determination to justify their existences. It wasn’t about “Humans” or “Monsters”, nor the dangers that could come of both races coexisting on the surface, of a possible second Human/Monster war, or a Monster reaching godhood either, no.

No.

This was all about Fear and Determination; about them. About Frisk and Her, Betty, and how much meaning, how big of an impact they had in each other’s lives. Her head seemed to cool down, and her thoughts, somehow, cleared up.

“Hmmm…”

The Black beast muttered under her breath; the growl coming from her throat as her expression, usually one of rage and hostility that inspired fear and horror into her enemies faces, changed, for she was lost in her own thoughts. “I need you”, continued to pop inside her mind, thinking of Frisk each and every single time it did, increasing the intensity of the blush that now extended itself from her cheeks, to her nose bridge.

Perhaps… we could work together…

If mother was still alive, no doubt, Agate would’ve gone mad right there and then after seeing what her beloved, precious child was thinking. Would Mother have seen her as a failure? Would she have started hating her? Despising her? Try to convince her to get rid of that idea? Or never talk to her again?

The uncertainty of it all was what didn’t let Betty made a decision.

What was more important? Her own needs and her wishes… or Agate’s… ?

“You always search for good inside everyone… don’t you, Frisk?”

Even when there was nothing left, she finished inside her own head, before walking towards the window. The Black Beast’s eyes fixated themselves on the ominous view surrounding her, not a single trace of light present in the forest surrounding the Lightvale’s home, the trees, no more than silhouettes, seemed to mimic an army of demons; her own inner demons, trying to find her and devour the last piece of “humanity” inside her pink soul.

As the raindrops hit the glass in front of her, Betty’s left eye focused itself on the table; the oil lamp, so close to the paper sheet; that single object represented, protected and guarded the only trace of “good” inside of her Negative soul.

These emotions… these feelings… they were what kept Hate at bay.

… Do I… does this mean I… ?

Betty rose her eyebrows at that very moment. It felt like a bucket filled with cold water had been spilled on her at that instant, when the cursed four-letter word she didn’t want to think of appeared at the back of her head. Yes, she knew what she wanted to say, but she didn’t knew if she had the strength to acknowledge, recognize and accept her own feelings so soon.

It’s not natural.

It wasn’t meant to be.

It doesn’t make sense.

A drop of sweat fell across the pink-eyed creature’s cheek before she walked towards the table, she had thought way too much, way more than what she would’ve wanted to, writing was the only thing she could think of, that would keep her mind occupied. Did she… did she actually… fell for him? Did she? Or was it just obsession? Infatuation? Something in between?

Time for her to find out. Somehow, she felt that, maybe sooner than later, she would be able to find the answer she desperately looked for.

.

.

When I first started this letter, Frisk, I felt like my mind and everything I am was stuck in a storm. My own feelings, my thoughts, and my lack of understanding mixed with my confusion; I felt directionless.

Where did I want to go? Is there any other road or place for us or have those roads been blocked off by my own two hands after I started this crusade against you and those you care about… ? seventy.

That’s who many people I’ve killed ever since my alliance with Jessica. Sixty-eight human children, and two monsters. Everyone is looking for me, even now, I’m sure of it, and I wonder… where are you while I write this? Are you stuck in your home, are you going mad looking for me too, or are you afraid of finding and fighting me?

I’m not afraid of you; quite the contrary… I long for you.

Yes.

I long the idea of seeing you. I should hate you; I do, but not fully. I’ve seen your memories and your actions; you’re capable of great things… amazing things, surprisingly, things that many mages from the old era would be jealous of, thus you deserve my praise and admiration, as much as you deserve my hate and disdain equally.

Do you admire me the same way I admire you, Frisk? Or do you simply hate me because I’ve taken your classmates away from you, destroyed families, and ruined this “Ultimate happy ending” you struggled so hard to achieve? How much does Sans’ death weights on your soul right now?

You considered him your… “Best friend”, as cynical and hypocritical that sounds. It shouldn’t be like that. Not after you murdered Papyrus in front of him countless times. Not after you laughed and cackled after killing him yourself countless times.

If anything… you should consider me and what connects us way more precious than whatever you had with him.

Despite all you’ve done, people love you. Despite all your sins, this world expects you to save it from me. Me, your rival. Me, your enemy. Me, your destruction. Me, your fate. Me… your equal, your total opposite, and the one who’s been waiting for your birth all my existence.

… Frisk.

I think I’ve finally found the answer I’ve been looking for. The more I write what I think; what I feel, the less cloudy my head feels. The less confusion there is inside of me, and somehow, it seems like my goals, my objectives, are way clearer now. I think I know what I must do, what I want to do.

Come and find me.

And when I see you… when we see each other…

I’ll say whatever I need to say.

Then… I guess we’ll both see what comes next.

.

.

“Hm… so it wasn’t a waste of time after all…”

Re-reading what she had just wrote in both paper sheets, feeling pride in herself at how concise and how little paper she needed to use in the end, Betty couldn’t help but smile at her own message. What Mother always said was right, writing what you felt, what you thought, it was a nice way to clear out your own thoughts. Betty extended a blob out of her palm; flesh turning pink as the blob, while being born from her body, slowly yet carefully swallowed the note, storing it inside itself to protect it from the rain.

While she could re-write it perfectly if needing to, there was no need to take unnecessary risks nor any extra precaution. Now all she needed to do was find a way to contact Frisk, lure him and him alone out of his house and into the forest…

It was easier said than done.

The last thing she knew before going into isolation to clear out her thoughts, was that Jessica Grey’s brother-in-law, Rave Rutrow, alongside the “Techno-magic” department had gone into Ebott City, a crew specialized in utilizing both magic and technology to go way beyond what normal mages could do. What both worried and annoyed Betty right now was the idea that maybe after joining forces with Gaster or Frisk, they could’ve devised something to find her whenever she put a foot into the town.

That’s why she would use one of her blobs. At the very least she knew that they were untraceable and undetectable, because if they hadn’t, they would’ve followed them back home whenever they went to gather supplies for her.

Regardless of Frisk accepting her feelings or not; whatever the future had in store for them was uncertain. Betty not only became a terrorist but a Serial killer, the possibility of finding “redemption” was minimal, but not impossible. That… and even then, she couldn’t allow herself to die.

If Hate took over her body, all it would do was bring destruction to the whole planet, both humans and monsters reduced to ashes, alongside any future they might’ve tried to built together. The Black Beast walked towards the oil lamp, focusing herself on the beautiful flame and her own reflection on the glass, staring back at her with a mixture of seriousness, and stoicism.

“We’ll see it when we get there… won’t we… Frisk?”

Then, Betty turned the oil lamp off, allowing the last source of light inside Ebott’s forest to vanish into the night, as a single, solitary blob started to drag itself towards the Dreemurr Home, using the bond intertwining their souls as a tracker; its objective?

Give Frisk the letter… and hope that indeed, he came to see her as she hoped he would.

.

.

“Hm…”

The night skies roared as Frisk’s head rested against his hands. Mount Ebott’s eight fallen let out a sigh; his scarlet-colored eyes opened up slightly, determination shinning in his pupils as his gaze fixed itself on the forest, in all its might, its eternal darkness, despite the lights being turned on, it felt like not just him, but the whole city would be swallowed by whatever was out there.

As if god himself had abandoned them.

Quite ironic considering Betty was still out there, waiting, doing whatever she pleased, without him nor anyone for that matter, knowing what she was up to, nor what would she do whenever she got the chance. That was one of the multiple reasons as to why Frisk hadn’t been able to have sleep properly in what felt like ages, or years.

His head already started to hurt due to the lack of sleep, but luckily, he hadn’t gone insane enough to start hallucinating… imagine having to deal with his own mind playing tricks on him, when the Fear wielder already was an illusionist. Might as well handle her his soul in a silver platter by that point.

“My child.”

Toriel’s voice called out to him, and the brown-haired teenager turned around, finding the queen of monsters staring at him from the entrance to his room. Since Betty went into hiding and Rave arrived into the town, the overall situation between monsterkind and humankind did nothing but worsen, each side blaming each other due to their inability to finding her, but luckily, things hadn’t gone so out of hand, even if he still feared the possibility of another war starting the moment he closed his eyes.

Asgore’s former wife carried a plate with some recently baked pie, cinnamon and butterscotch, his favorite; her specialty. The familiar smell brought back many memories of his time in the Underground, both pleasant and tragic ones. Toriel had hoped that giving her son a nightly treat would do something to stimulate his own mood, to make him smile and, maybe, just maybe, open up himself and understand what they all were doing for him.

But so far? Frisk remained closed, isolated in his own room, not saying a thing to anyone about what was troubling him; his health decaying with each passing day due to his stress not allowing him to eat in peace. Something that, neither Toriel, Asriel and Asgore, could stand. It was… frustrating, to say the least.

“Here. I made this for you. Its been three days since the last time you ate something, but… don’t feel pressured to eat it all, alright?”

She asked, the queen’s brown eyes clashing with her son’s scarlet ones. Frisk didn’t say a thing as he saw his mother walk towards him, leaving the cup of tea and the dessert next to him silently. The air and overall aura surrounding Frisk were tense. Heavy, just like the eyebags under his eyes. The Boss Monster rose her eyebrows, concerned, doubting if she should continue giving him his space, no one had been able to talk some sense into Frisk ever since they buried Sans and Alphys; spraying their dust on some of Sans’ clothes, his science books, and some of Alphys’ on her Mew Mew Kissy Cutie figurines.

When he gave a speech of consolation during the funeral of the children murdered during Betty’s attack on her school, children who Frisk had known personally; his very own classmates… he could barely hold back his own emotions, most of it had been wrote by Toriel and Asgore themselves.

Toriel’s fingers trembled with doubt, as much as she wanted to embrace her son, she knew him just enough to know what Frisk needed the most was some time alone, to find his own strength, reconnect with his resolve, and overall, accept what his current situation was. So many people died so fast, and it seemed like everything they fought so hard to built was crumbling at an overwhelming speed.

Regardless… he managed to muster up a smile, reaching out for the tea, admiring his face reflected on it.

“… Thanks, Mom…”

“You’re welcome, my child. We love you. Please, do not forget it.”

That was all there was to it. Not a hug. Not a loving goodnight cheek kiss, nor anything. Toriel walked out of the room, downstairs, more than likely to continue her chat with Azzy and Asgore, and communicate herself one last time with Doctor Gaster and possibly, Mr.Rave. That’s all there was to it, but Frisk couldn’t care less. The Dreemurr child admired the cup of warm tea in his hands, before giving it a nice sip.

Groooooowl~

Truth is, despite not showing it, his body was starving. But even so, it took a considerable effort to properly consume each and every single drop of the delicious golden-flower tea, Asgore’s favorite, and Frisk’s as well, right as he felt his tongue burning alongside his throat, but it was softly. It was gentle. It wasn’t agonizing nor anything of the sort, so he felt happy. Happy enough to feel some weight lifting off his shoulders, it seemingly did the trick.

He felt way lighter, less tense.

Now… did he have the stomach to actually finish up the cinnamon/butterscotch pie in one bite? Mom had given him quite the piece, but on his current mental state, he wasn’t sure if he would be able to endure all the emotional pain and the sadness that said flavors carried, he already had multiple nightmares about himself finally snapping and losing what little left of his sanity was left, going back into his murderous ways and killing everyone, this time, forever.

Perhaps we’re not so different after all… we’re both liars…

And neither of them were humans.

Chara always called herself the “Demon that comes whenever you say its name”, but that wasn’t right. The one true demon with one-hundred faces was Frisk himself, was he proud of it? No. Was he remorseful because of his past actions? Of course. But that’s who he was, at his core; an idiot who could never, ever make the right choice. Every action he took, from the moment he was born to this day, only hurt those he cared about more and more.

He wasn’t kind. He wasn’t loving. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t a brother. He wasn’t a savior. He wasn’t an angel. He wasn’t a politician. He wasn’t a son. He wasn’t a friend.

And above all else… Frisk wasn’t Chara.

“I wonder what would you do if you were here… ?”

Maybe things would be different. Better. Would they be better… ? would Chara actually have the strength required to do what he couldn’t do?, what he had been trying to avoid for so long? His so called “duty”, as Gaster said when he spoke of the Legend of Determination and Fear. “While its true that only Fear can defeat Determination, only Determination can defeat Fear as well” those being his exact words.

They all expected him to be their savior, their hero, once again.

I… I can’t…

Because each time he thought about it, his soul hurt. The image of his sword sinking itself into Betty’s chest as her soul cracked shortly after, did nothing but weaken him. Weaken him when it should empower him and motivate him; Sans, Alphys, Cam and so many others died fighting for him, believing in the peaceful coexistence all his predecessors did; from what little he cared to investigate about Copper Lightvale, this same belief is what got him and Amber killed by Agate’s hands a thousand years ago.

If Chara was here, she wouldn’t have thought twice about murdering Betty; perhaps, due to her love and protectiveness towards the Dreemurrs, she would’ve jumped straight into the fray the moment Betty revealed her true nature, dragged by their connection as Determination and Fear, and used all her power to erase her from existence just so she could keep Asgore, Toriel and Asriel safe.

That’s the kind of person Chara was.

Copper didn’t hesitate in trying to murder his own sister to protect Amber, the youngest of the three, and he died, broken heart with the little one’s bloody corpse impaled by the woman that was meant to protect her, from what little records remained of those dark days. The point being; both his predecessors did what was necessary, and would do what was necessary, to protect humanity as a whole from any sort of threat.

They could.

So then… why couldn’t he?

Because the idea of hurting her made his soul hurt and ache, losing his strength, feeling his will waver, as his breathing became uncontrollable. Yes. For the first time ever, Frisk felt like no matter what he did, he faced an enemy he couldn’t defeat, not because he “couldn’t” but because he couldn’t. This fight wasn’t against Betty, who was nowhere near as powerful as Omega Flowey was after absorbing the six humans souls… nor was she a God like Asriel when he reached his “God of Hyperdeath” state.

He couldn’t win against Betty because his own heart would kill him in the process, his strikes would never reach her, and his own tears would cloud his eyes. People counted on him; men, women and children looked up at him for salvation…

And how could he give them what they desired when his own body wouldn’t listen to him? When his own soul, his own being, seemed to beg him to not do it?

It was insane. Insane, and both his own guilt, what he had to do, and the pressure he felt were killing him, little by little with each passing day. A drop of sweat fell by Frisk’s face as his head rested itself on his closed hands, before his eyes slowly went downwards; not focused on the forest anymore, but on the dark wood of his desk, admiring the beauty of Mom’s recently made Butterscotch/Cinnamon pie.

Its smell seemed to ease him up, the delicious, warm taste of the cup of tea still present in his cheeks.

“T… thank you…”

He couldn’t understand himself, nor what he was going through. What he was feeling. Whenever he was happy, whenever he tried to think about the past, his mind took him deeper into his own hypocrisy; because on one side, he could recall all the good, happy memories of his pacifist routes, the good things, the sweet moments he spent with Toriel, Papyrus, Sans, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, and Asgore. Many times had they been on the surface, many times had he given them a happy ending… and many times had he sunk his own blade into their bodies without a second thought, despite Chara telling him not to, demanding to know what his problem was, what was he doing, and how could he?, until she reached the tipping point.

He had damaged those he “loved”, all for the sake of his curiosity. Because he could do it, and fix everything. That’s why, because he couldn’t focus solely on the good memories of those he called his “friends”, his “Family”, he couldn’t understand why the good memories that came to his mind weren’t with them… but with Betty.

Betty. “Bete Noire”, the Black beast. The one who had actually killed Sans forever this time, with no hope of bringing him back, nor him, nor Alphys nor any of his classmates. Frisk stood up at that instant; “clack”, the wood chair fell to the ground, before his fingernails sank themselves into the wood, more and more.

“Why… ?”

He asked to no one in particular, the brown-haired young man felt his soul weakening; Betty killed Sans. Asriel told him, in great details, how her needle stabbed him right in the chest, pulling his soul out of his body as he fell on his arms. “Enjoy the future for me”, and the worst part? He could picture it. Frisk hadn’t dared to observe the “Best friends” bracelet he crafted for the older of the skeleton brothers ever since that day, out of fear. Fear of what he would do to himself, and his already declining sanity.

Betty should be an standard and embodiment of hate. Every single feeling of disgust and repulsiveness, of hate inside his soul, should be aimed solely at her. The thought of her voice, her smile, her eyes, the wicked, maddening expression Gaster and Undyne had described; her enjoyment in carnage, should be what motivated him to pursue and put an end to it all. Because she was a monster, one far too dangerous to be left alive.

Instead… all he could think of… was the blush on her face that day at the school when he called Akumu “Awesome”.

“What’s that thing?! Its awesome!”

Were his exact words. His exact words, no matter how much he tried to deny them. The warmth inside his heart as he reminisced about how, clearly taken aback, the pink-eyed female took a step back, as she avoided his gaze; while a beautiful red-colored blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed at the seemingly out of nowhere praise she got. The first thing that came to his mind as he heard her trembling voice barely utter “thank you” in response, mortified him.

She’s so cute…

Cute. Cute. Cute. He thought of her as cute. The only image his mind could think of wasn’t of a maniacal, fight-loving traitor who never spoke a single truth. He couldn’t picture Betty as the “Black Beast”, the murderer of his best friend, of one of his “family members” and so many of their classmates. “Their” classmates, because she indeed had been a part of the school, even if briefly, or form the sidelines… no… all he could think of, was the cute pink-loving girl who laughed around them, around him.

The girl who’s hand he took because he wanted to tell her all about Ebott and his adventures across the Underground that day, when they were looking for miss Jessica. From Jewelry stores, to clothes stores. What was he even thinking that day? He didn’t even knew Jessica had a child, or a husband, or anything for that matter, so even now, he questioned himself. What was the purpose of hanging around with Betty so much that day, wasting time doing stupid things, useless crap, and holding her hand so tightly she had to tell him at one point to stop pulling her arm with such strength?

To make time, of course.

“I don’t get it… I don’t get it… why can’t I… ?!”

It had never been hard for him to hate someone. As embarrassing and ashamed of himself he was, he had hated Sans for so long just because of his strength. He hated and loved him, and everyone else. He Loved his mother; he hated his mother. He loved Papyrus, he hated Papyrus. He loved Undyne; he hated Undyne. He loved Alphys, Muffet, Mettaton, Asgore, Flowey, Asriel, Chara… and he had hated them all at one point too. Enough for him to numb his guilt and not think about anything except attaining victory and complete the task he himself set out to do, using a hundred excuses to justify what he was doing.

“They’ll take my soul” he told to himself, even after having seen with his own eyes the greatest ending he and Asriel created together, time and time again on the True Pacifist Route. He could even use the same excuse when thinking about the Pinkette; to lose against Betty, would be the final nail in the coffin, not just for him, but for them all. No reset anymore.

“She’ll take my… ”

Frisk’s lips trembled, trying to finish the sentence, before clenching his fists. A feeling of powerlessness washed over Monsterkind’s ambassador, closing his eyelids again, sinking his face into the darkness, trying to take his mind off the rain drilling his ears. “Say it… say it” his mind repeated to him, like a dare, like a challenge. The thought of Sans dying in Asriel’s arms, the bodies of the children he himself saw being buried some days ago, as mothers and fathers cried their souls out at losing their beloved sons and daughters, families shattered in front of him. The screams, the pain, the overwhelming, crushing sadness Betty had brought to the entire town in just a single day…

It all should be more than enough to make him hate her.

“S-She’ll… she’ll take my… m-my… !”

His eyelids trembled at that very moment, when he thought about Lily and her parents holding Cam’s cold, broken corpse in their arms. His mother, despite not showing it, was devastated. Undyne hadn’t woken up since their fight, and Gaster was in a state worse than his own, to the point many thought of him as a potential danger. Papyrus and him hadn’t spoke since he pointed his six hands at him, everything had seemingly fallen apart, if it hadn’t already that is. His soul moved itself; the grey zone on the red heart growing more and more as he felt his legs weaken, the weight of his own body more than enough to force him to his knees.

He couldn’t say it… no matter how much he tried. He couldn’t hate her. He couldn’t see her as a villain. Frisk took his hands to his head; drilling his own skull with his fingers before resting his forehead against the ground. “Bump, bump, bump”, each beat reminding him he was alive. The adrenaline and the pain coursing through his veins as he struggled with the happy, smiling face of the Fear wielder he remembered from their time together, and the image he should have, drove him more and more into insanity.

“I can’t… I— I can’t… I just… I just… !”

Tick… tick tick tick~

His mental breakdown was interrupted by a foreign sound; what came next both surprised and took him out of his mind forcefully. It wasn’t any sort of natural sound, even in the darkness of the night, with the rain falling down so fiercely outside, Frisk could hear it. Something small, yet strong, was hitting the window in front of his desk; the user of determination stood up from the floor, quickly wiping away the tears coming from his eyes, his heart started to ease up, and so did his head.

It sounded like a knocking; loud enough to catch his attention, but gentle enough to not break the glass. The Ambassador rose his eyebrows, confused at what he was seeing, before his mind clicked. That thing… it wasn’t a tree branch like he believed at first, no… that wasn’t a leg… it was like a tentacle… or more like…

A tongue.

No…

Yes, it was her. The moment he got closer to the window, the blob seemed to stop slightly, Frisk hesitate. Would it try to break in? was it a taunt? The shapeless creature opened up its mouth again, as the tongue came out, hitting the glass again. “Tick tick tick”, not strongly. Not violently. He knew a glass wouldn’t be enough to stop her, so… why? Why would she try to come in “peacefully”? his hand reached out to the window’s lock, still doubting about it. If she really wanted to hurt him, he didn’t knew if he could properly fight back in his current state, after all the souls she collected, the power gap between the two would be monstruous.

But, as always… his own curiosity would always be one of his greatest weaknesses. Frisk opened up the window, allowing not just the rain, but the Fear-made blob to come into his own room. The creature moved slowly, gently, dragging itself into the ambassador’s room, similar to a puppy, or an animal who didn’t knew where it was, nor what it was doing. It stopped, “looking” at him for a brief moment, and the brunette wondered if Betty could hear or see through them. Speaking was out of the question; she would be talking otherwise, so then… why? Why was it here?

Why wasn’t it attacking him?

“… What is your purpose?”

The former Wold Master asked, trying to sound intimidating, but his voice betrayed him. A “hrrrghhh” emerged from the creature as it opened its jaws; so similar yet so different from Akumu. Come to think of it… why hadn’t she sent him instead? Frisk didn’t had the time to continue questioning himself, as he saw a small envelop emerging from the depths of the thing’s throat, the white paper, perfectly protected from the window, was left right next to the plate with the pie and the fork the Queen had brought him.

“… Huh?”

“Hrrrgh!”

Right as he made a sound of confusion, not understanding quite well what he was seeing, nor what the “postman” had given him, the blob growled one last time, before jumping away from the desk; its small figure landing in the mud, right in front of the house, Frisk saw it running into the forest, vanishing into the night as if it had never been there, as he closed the windows, locking them again, his eyes focused on the letter Betty had seemingly brought him… a letter? She risked everything, even her own safety… just so one of her blobs could give him a letter?. His right eyebrow rose up in confusion, what was so important that she wanted him to read rather than telling it to his face… ?

No, that question wasn’t logical. It made sense, from a certain point of view, that she chose paper as a method of “Communication” rather than face-to-face approach was way wiser and smarter, considering everyone was looking for her. Now the last question he needed answers for… was the content. Reaching out for the chair so he could sit again, he finally decided to open up the envelop, pulling out two paper sheets as both anxiety and stress started to resurface inside of his body once again.

As his eyes slowly started to read the first lines, his expression softened. Memories... that's all one truly had, in the end, so Frisk could understand what Betty was saying; even he, at one point, had a journal, not the same as a diary, but writing was important, not just because it helped stimulate one's brain, but because recording life and what you felt mattered.

A chill ran down his spine when he read that sentence. The only one... meant to read this? Why?... did she actually wrote... a... ?

No.

To say he was sad would be an understatement. Guilt, sadness, confusion and the pressure of what was expected of him were crushing him. What surprised him the most, were her own words, her own predicament. She faced her own struggles as well? restlessness? uneasiness? what for?

So she wasn't... happy nor proud of all she had done?

Betrayal... resentment... hate... emotions he knew, he should be redirecting her act. To wake up every morning cursing her name, dreaming about the day he killed her, but so far, he had been unable to, every single time. The sensation of disappointment as a cold spread through his stomach when he read "the same eyes I look at you with" couldn't be ignored.

So... Betty did, actually, hate and resented him... or not... ?

"Huh.. ?"

Hope emerged within his soul as his eyes focused themselves on the sixth paragraph. "Should, should, should", contradiction after contradiction, time and time again, just like his own behavior. Excitement and surprise both hit him abruptly at the realization, Betty, much like him, seemed to be unable to hate him... at least, entirely.

But her reasons were different. Betty should hate him because of the hypocrite he was... and he should hate her because she fought to undermine everything he and his friends tried to built.

It was kind of shameful... a terrifying revelation. He had never, not once, been honest with anyone about his actions; and how could he? the only ones who knew about all his timelines were Chara, Asriel, Sans and Gaster... the only ones who were meant to knew the horrible, manipulative, lying monster he truly was...

But the fifth one was Betty herself. Every lie he spoke. Every life he took. Every time he laughed; ever feeling of anger and gaze of hatred he gave to the Captain of the Royal Guard, and Papyrus' older brother whenever they fought, Betty knew.

She knew just how much of a monster he truly was... and it made him feel like he was naked. An open book for her to read as she pleased, and suddenly, he understood the source of her hatred.

Their first meeting... saving her had just been an act of reflect. An instinct. So lost in his mind had he been about the idea of mending Jessica's relationship with Monsterkind that, when he saw an innocent girl with beautiful pink eyes about to be ran over in front of him, jumping to protect her just...

Made sense.

A part of Frisk wished he knew how it would feel like. He had next to no memories of his own childhood, which he never truly cared about. Whoever had been the man and woman who brought him to this world... the little Dreemurr sighed, moving his head from side to side. That, Chara and him could agree on: their biological family didn't matter. What mattered were the ones who raised them.

As far as Frisk knew; Toriel was his mother, Asgore was his father... and both Chara and Azzy were his siblings... then again, was he on his right to call them his family after what he had done?

Was that... another one of the reasons as to why Betty hated him so much? Unlike him, despite all the flaws they shared, Betty seemed to be an even better daughter, a more loving and honest one than Frisk himself.

How ironic, how truly, truly ironic, to the point he almost felt like he could laugh.

"She's a monster! She's the devil! She's a terrorist! She's an abomination!"

They had all called her, over and over and over again, across all news. All sort of propaganda in order to diminish and paint Betty as some sort of "ultimate being of evil" due to all she had caused in less than a month, while the city painted Frisk as a savior, the one who would liberate them... again.

When in truth, he was as much a terrorist, and a "devil" as her. The difference being that he believed himself above consequences due to his powers as a World Master, to control the timeline as he saw fit. But when Frisk thought about it in depth, perhaps... what Betty was doing, and the response Ebott City had, were the exact same thing that must've happened on the Underground during his own Genocide.

After all... the royal guard, Mettaton and Alphys herself were telling everyone to evacuate Waterfall and Hotland at light speed from the demonic human child who came to finish what the Human/Monster war couldn't.

Betty and Frisk might've been killers... liars... and hypocrites... but unlike him... unlike him...

"Unlike me... you really do have someone you'd never be able to hurt... right?"

He questioned, as if the paper could reply him. He could very well see Betty in his own head, arms crossed, a look of disappointment in her face after seeing him rubbing his head so eagerly against the Goat Queen's stomach that day at the school, even if it hadn't happened, perhaps it did.

As a girl who loved her mother... seeing the "son" who supposedly "loved" his mother, despite having killed her countless times, treating her with love regardless... while she had lost hers... must've been like a kick right to her guts.

Betty knew who she was as a person. "The heir to Agate Lightvale's legacy; the Black beast" and he couldn't even figure out who he was, even now.

The closest thing Frisk could think of to describe himself would be... "Frisk Dreemurr, an adventurer who freed monsterkind", and that's it. But there was no "grandiose" purpose to his existence, not like Chara. Not like Asriel. Not like Betty. Chara had been called the "hope" of humans and monsters, even to her very last breath.

Everything she did, was to help the civilization that loved her. Asriel, despite his actions as Flowey the Flower, never once stopped considering Chara his sibling, his best friend, and seeing themselves as a duo.

His heart was just too big for him to hate the first fallen.

The fact that Agate had spoken so highly of him because of what Copper had been in life, made him feel unworthy. So much time spent to meet a "knight in shinning armor", someone who could meet up her standards... how laughable... !

It was like a sick joke, because the "villain" expected a hero. A Messiah, the second coming of Jesus Christ, and all she got was a devil of a thousand faces.

Yes... a liar. Yes, a genocidal. Yes, a maniac, an hypocrite, a demon, a traitor...

A murderer...

He was all those things, and so much more. So, so much more... Frisk dropped the letter as a sigh escaped his lips, alongside a small tear falling from his cheek. It felt like reality had hit him straight in the face; was there some leftover tea in the mug Mother brought him... ?

No.

At least he still had the pie. Sinking the fork inside the dessert, the ambassador brought a small piece into his mouth, feeling its exquisite flavor melting inside of it alongside the bitter memories, and the new tragedies... including the new revelations Noire had brought him.

If anything, it kinda felt fitting... to think that "History's greatest traitor"; Frisk himself, would be put out of his misery by the world's "Greatest Terrorist", because she wanted to protect humanity from him.

Sans and her were the same in that regard, and maybe, just maybe... Chara indeed would've been a better rival for Betty than him, as he had always believed.

When his eyes laid on the next paragraph, he felt strange. It was funny. Frisk couldn't understand himself very well either and, despite having seen all his memories, both the good and bad ones, Betty couldn't understand him either, even if she could read him like an open book...

She couldn't decipher the meaning behind what she was reading, so to speak.

But he had to give it to her... she was right. He could still recall the horrible feeling he felt in his gut the first time he killed Mother. When Toriel, crying, begged him to "be good", thinking they would never see each other again, the pain he felt was so strong, the agony; the guilt, that caused him to reset at that very moment.

Guilt... a feeling that, with each death he suffered at the hands of the monsters, being sent back, started to numb itself until it became next to non-existant. Frisk had only rediscovered his guilt recently, having lost his powers, and now finding himself unable to hurt Betty despite that being his so called "Goal", his "destiny" and because everyone counted on him.

The reason as to why... the reason as to why... despite all his sins, he held onto Toriel with such tightness every single day after the barrier broke, and he got officially adopted into the Dreemurr Household... The eight fallen closed his eyelids again, allowing himself to breathe, slowly. As the oxygen reached his brain, a sensation of calmness and easiness washed over him, diminishing his anxiety and stress just a tiny bit.

More than enough to come up with an answer to Noire's question.

"Because... despite everything I... I still... "

Still love them.

As hypocritical as it was to say it; to think about it. Despite toying with their lives... treating them less than scum... he still loved them. Frisk longed for days long gone, back when it was all new.

When things felt "real", when his reactions were genuine, when his own fear of the future, of certain death, was there.

When he feared his own Reset powers and what he might cause or hurt to others; thinking that Flowey and Asgore were the biggest threats he ever faced.

The first time he walked through new home, and the monsters told him the story of Asriel and Chara's death, after that Froggit told him "You're going to be free"... he had a panic attack.

It felt like his soul would end up breaking itself out of sheer fear inside his own chest, without the need of being attacked. His reset powers were his... pride and joy.

A "safe heaven" that, no matter what, he would always be back to give it another try...

"But what if they failed?"

He thought back then, truly scared of what might've come from his fight with Asgore, believing that indeed, that might've been the end.

That's why he could embrace Toriel and call her "Mom" so openly, despite having murdered and betrayed her so many times. That's why he could look up at Asriel and call him "Azzy" instead of "Flowey" and look at him not as the maniacal, souless flower who wanted to murder them all... but as the prince of monsterkind who suffered, went through hell; brought them hell, and he helped find the light.

That's why he tried to be Sans' friend... because after breaking the "reset" button that day they came out of the Underground, he thought that he could go on to live a fulfilling life, and bury all his guilt, pain and sins under a pile of new, joyful, happy memories; no longer afraid of the future or what might've come out of it.

Now, just as Betty said... he could never go back. Not anymore; nor ever again.

Good in evil... and evil in good... it was a nice way to put things. Were the monsters evil for wanting to take their souls and destroy humanity? No.

Frisk had seen the timelines where Undyne became Queen of the Underground; and she actually meant what she said, willing to go through it, unlike Asgore.

But that didn't make her evil; in those timelines, Frisk himself was the monster who killed Papyrus, Asgore and Mettaton, triggering the worst inside the soul of the Captain of the Royal guard.

Frisk wasn't fully evil; just like how neither Chara, nor Flowey, nor anyone was.

There's good in evil, and evil in good... thus; Betty couldn't be evil either.

"Resentment... and hate... "

The brown haired teenager muttered, stopping himself at the phrase the pink-eyed lady wrote. "I don't know if you changed, I still don't."

He could ask her the same thing. Did Betty change?... did she?... there had to be a reason as to why she was writing this. She spoke of having her eyes being opened by his own contradictions; evil in good, good in evil. The world was "grey"; no matter how selfish and stupid the reasons for someone to be evil... they could still choose to be good.

To love, to care, to forgive and be willing to give second chances... just as Asriel and Sans did for him. Because they knew. They knew all he did, and yet they loved him.

Asriel called him "My brother". Sans, when alive, called him "My friend". Even Doctor Gaster talked to him warmly, despite having seen every single action he did, and every single time he slaughtered his precious, beloved sons.

Did Betty's goal justify her actions... ? did his own curiosity and the power to undo his killings justify every slaughter he made?

From his point of view... the answer was "kind of".  That worked not just as an answer for those two questions, but also the last one.

Betty and him, kind of were two hypocrites; yes and no.

This is the part that made him feel uncomfortable the most. So far, he had been kinda getting that, just like him, Betty had been going through a mental/emotional turmoil, which explained why no one had been able to locate her.

But... in here, she was openly speaking about them. What intertwined them; she used the exact same words she told to Sans and Asriel that day.

The only pink soul there had ever been.

The only red soul of this era.

The fact that Betty spoke so firmly about destiny and, how things could've gone differently honestly made him feel weird. It made him feel uncomfortable.

"Regardless... of whatever you and I did, huh..."

It made him question something else. A part of him had always felt kinda lonely. Maybe it was because he had no memories of his own parents, as far as he knew, he was just an average orphan with way too much curiosity for his own good.

Maybe that's why he grew too attached to the Underground, and couldn't tolerate the idea of moving on.

Did Chara ever felt that way, when she was alive?... no. No, more than likely she didn't. Asriel found her, and so did the Dreemurrs. They embraced her. Adopted her, and treated her as one of their own, and in time, she became one of them.

Frisk really tried. He really tried to get inside Betty's shoes, how would it have felt to be fed histories and expectations for a thousand years of what her future might've been. Perhaps Betty expected some sort of war that would've lasted entire decades until he reached his late eightes, or seventies, where she would finally claim her victory over him.

Perhaps she expected a knight similar to Copper who, unlike him though, fought to the bitter end of his life for the fate of the world in hundreds of battlefields that would be sang as ballads, be written in history, and remembered for ages to come.

It did, it kinda did make him think of Mother. He always resented himself for having hurt her, and the idea of actually losing her permanently... could he actually live with that? could any person in their right mind deal with the loss of a parent, let alone a mother... ? wasn't it always too soon to say goodbye?

How would it feel? Betty wanted to hurt him. She wanted to punch him. She wanted for him to shout answers to questions he couldn't give; he did so because he wanted to know what would happen, what could happen, and because he truly believed it would be ok.

He could always undo all the atrocities he did.

No wonder she felt so inclined to punch him to the point his face was unrecognizable. To Betty, he was nothing of what she should've gotten.

Did she feared Death, like him? or was she terrified of loneliness? of losing whatever bond intertwined their souls, their lives, and their very existences into one? Frisk had never felt "welcomed" anywhere, not even in the orphanage he used to live in. They raised him because it was their duty, and he was kind and nice to his own peers, because it was the right thing to do.

But he always longed for more. He longed for a connection with someone, something deeper, something "greater", and for a while, the Underground gave him all he could've wanted, and so, so much more. So many people that looked at him with warm, loving expressions, kind faces, gentle smiles.

Whenever he thought about all the days he spent hunting bugs with Toriel inside the Ruins on his first Run, or the fun he had when experiencing Papyrus' puzzles, the Canine Unit of the Royal Guard, the fear and respect he held towards Undyne, the crazy times on the Temmie Village, being a part of Mettaton's show, dancing, laughing, and crying to Asgore for Mercy, before recalling so many memories from all the other pacifist runs...

Yes, the Underground had been his family all along... and he himself shattered it.

There was no more "Innocence" inside of his soul anymore. But Betty had nothing remotely similar, just her motherly figure, who she had lost shortly before waking up, and him.

Him, who betrayed all her hopes, not being worthy of being called a rival, a hero, a savior, a monster, an enemy, or a nemesis.

She expected the embodiment of hope... and instead got the embodiment of hypocrisy.

They were more similar than they would like to admit. Perhaps that's why she couldn't bring herself to kill him and continue with her crusade... no, not "perhaps" but rather, he was sure that was the reason.

Betty feared what might come after "cutting" the only bond she had left. The one intertwining him. It would've been easier for her to kill him if he wasn't a monster, because she could align herself with her Mother's perspective.

Or maybe... what she wanted all along was what he thought at first; for them to fight for eternity, until he became an old man, and finally perished on their last battle, with a failing body, being remembered for the rest of eternity as the only red soul who valiantly fought against the future ruler of mankind.

Yes.

Yes, he could see the allure in such an hypothetical scenario, decades of "rivalry" to decide the fate of the world, where she would've had her fill of a "nemesis" until she was ready to say goodbye, and go on with her goal.

Not in here though. This was the real world, and that had all been a fantasy inside her own head... and life was very disappointing, more often than not.

Directionless... had he ever felt directionless at a single point in his life?... a small "Hmmm..." escaped Frisk's throat as another thunder fell from the skies, illuminating the outside one last time. As the shadows flashed inside his room, the third son of the Dreemurr dynasty curved his eyebrows, yeah... multiple times through his entire journey, out of desperation.

Fear.

Anxiety.

And of course... a lack of understanding, something that he lost as he grew wiser and smarter as the timelines went on, but that wasn't just the only time. Nowadays, Frisk felt more lost than ever before. This was all new to him, and for Betty as well, but it was due to different reasons; reasons that differed fundamentally, but with the same point of origin.

Their feelings.

Betty's whole philosophy and views had been shattered by her own discoveries and emotions, while her own actions and killings had done the same for Frisk's so called "Utopian ending", Sans, Alphys and so many children were gone because of her.

Now Betty, just like him, had developed some sort of affection towards him, but Frisk wondered; how deeply did it went?

In the exact situation as you

He answered her own question; his irises having lost almost all its red by now, leaving behind a decaying, depressing grey tone.

Did he fear facing Betty?... did he?... His heart clutched inside his chest, recalling his current predicament; how the idea of lifting his sword against her seemed like a taboo, and how his mind, ironically, refused to see her in such a dark, dim light. He couldn't think of her as a villain, and each time he tried, his emotional pain, his sadness...

The weight on his shoulders, grew heavier.

And despite all that... she longed to see him. Despite the fact that he was a complete monster, a liar, a manipulator, a deceiver, a hypocrite, Betty thought he was worthy of her affection and her praise for all the god things he had done.

"Come and find me", just as he read her finally finding the resolve she'd been looking for all this time, his mind was clearer than ever before, as Betty'd been saying all along...

Good and evil could coexist. Could compliment each other; the world wasn't about black and white, good and evil, everything had a reason.

A motive, an origin. His father wasn't evil, for example: Asgore perhaps murdered six human children, but he never did so out of delight or because he liked carnage, quite the contrary.

He did so because he made a promise to his people, a promise to bring hope to a world who'd just lost the future and hope that its rulers' children represented, the exact same day.

Same could be said about Betty, and him. She didn't do all the things she had done because she had an indiscriminate liking for carnage, and to cause suffering to others, but rather, because she inherited Agate's views.

If things had been different, if he had been different, perhaps... they could've been friends and collaborators from the very beginning.

Perhaps.

"Huh... ?"

That’s when he noticed something else. The Soul of Determination, having finished his nemesis’ letter, realized there was something else in the corner. Instructions, alongside a small drawing, compact enough to fit in the second paper sheet. The drawing perfectly mimicked his house, a small heart inside it; representing him, and then an arrow pointing to three trees, where another smaller house with a second heart awaited for him. Frisk instantly knew what it meant, she wanted for him to find her, this was the location of her hideout, even if Betty could’ve thought the idea would put her in danger, that he could perfectly go downstairs, tell everyone he knew where she was, and raid her all together to put an end to her life…

Fear the second went as far as to do something she would never usually do. She trusted him blindly, giving him a letter explaining who she was as a person, going into detail about all her troubles, her emotional struggle, and telling them where he could find her… all because she felt some sort of kinship, this “connection” and “Bond” she longed for. The eight fallen to Mount Ebott let out a sigh, storing the first sheet back into the envelope, and the second sheet, with the instructions, inside his pocket to protect it from rain. If one took a good look at Frisk’s face, one would clearly see how conflicted he was about what he would do right now… this could either go bad… horribly bad… and maybe, go even worse. No matter what choice he took, it felt like every action he would do would end up being a mistake; there was no clear answer nor any “right” path, except what he wanted.

And right now… guided by his own curiosity, and his own red/greyish soul, he felt like doing what he always had done, ever since he discovered his ability to resurrect by going back in time; be selfish. Be himself. At the core of his very being, that’s what made him be who he was. A selfish, self-centered, curious adventurer who never knew when to stop.

This might be his last mistake on earth, but it was alright.

At least he’d be able to face her with a smile on his face, and find the answers they both were seeking before he died, if that’s what Betty desired of him. The ambassador took his arms to the window, carefully opening it and then stepping onto it, a chill ran down his spine as the waterdrops coated him fully, it was chilly. Very, very chilly and windy. Frisk turned around to close the windows with just one hand, only then he jumped away, letting go off the rooftop as he landed into the mud.

His gaze focused on the Dreemurr home, where Papyrus, Gaster, Undyne, Asriel, Toriel and Asgore were. A part of him truly believed he would venture into the forest to never come back; heck, he had failed. He couldn’t give them the “happiest ending” he secretly promised to himself the day the barrier shattered, but it wasn’t because he was weak. It wasn’t because Betty wanted to do the things she did…

All these tragedies could’ve been avoided if he simply had been a better person… and perhaps, that’s something Frisk knew all along. Just as Sans always told him during their fights… he was the kind of person who would never be happy.

.

.

Its here…

The eight fallen thought, right as his gaze turned upwards from the piece of paper he had been following, around four kilometers into the forest, apparently, Betty had used her blobs to brand some trees that could be used as guiding points of interest to tell Frisk he was going in the right direction, it was… frightening, to say the least. They were all right; the entire damn area was infested by them, he could feel it. The trait of fear surrounding him as if he was trapped into Muffet’s web, a feeling he would rather forget, but never could.

Even so… not a single one of them attacked him, not even once.

Dreemurr admired the small structure, a house that, more than likely, only had four rooms counting the bathroom, and just one window. The wood seemed ancient, as if it could crumble with the touch of a feather, but there it was, having survived for over a thousand years, in the middle of a windy, stormy night, forgotten by everyone, even history itself. Determination the third let out a sigh as he stored the paper sheet inside the envelop as quickly as he could so the water didn’t damage it, only then, he started walking towards the entrance. Each time his boots stepped on the mud, the way his soaked shirt and sweater stuck to his skin, and how the rain continued to fell down his face, it all combined to make his anxiety rise up the closer he got.

If she had wanted to, she could’ve killed him a long, long time ago, he was sure. His soul was half grey now, and he was surrounded. Probably still was; no different from a fly trapped in a spider den. But the difference being this one fly was stupid enough to willingly fall into the spider’s web. The handle spin effortlessly, it almost felt like a haunted house, ominously asking “Who is it?” as the hinges creaked. As one would expect, what greeted him was pure, raw, unadulterated darkness.

Gulp…

The Ambassador swallowed his own nervousness as he took a step further, before closing the door behind himself. While Betty couldn’t be seen by his human eyes, her pink gaze could see him effortlessly, an all of his actions. A part of her felt the urge to terrify him, maybe gave him a little, harmless scare, but she decided against it, as enticing as it sounded, Noire simply rose an eyebrow, mentally giving one of her blobs the order to turn on the oil lamp she had been using earlier that night. The room lighted up, and there they were.

Frisk Dreemurr and Bete Noire.

The user of Fear was sitting on a chair made from her own blobs, the table she used to write her confession in the middle of the empty room, with nothing but the rain hitting the glass as an ambiance, while Frisk hadn’t suffered a small jumpscare as Betty intended, he was shocked when looking at her appearance, her true form. The pinkette admired the way he seemingly tensed up, his gaze fully focusing on her monstrous features; the way her lips had seemingly been broken, ripped, and melted in some areas, the dark-pink, almost purpleish tone her sclera gained, alongside the demonic, feline pupils with a much lighter tone staring at him. Betty looked absolutely terrifying.

Her face wasn’t human no more.

“Good evening, Frisk. I’m glad to see you’ve come alone.”

The Black beast spoke, trying to sound as respectful as she could, before her open hand extended itself pointing at the chair in front of her. It almost felt like a debate was about to start, and perhaps it would. The human stared at the empty chair, sighing, but not out of tiredness, she could tell. He sighed because he was desperately trying to calm down his own nerves: even if his Determination was barely there, she could basically hear the speed and strength on his heart, beating up so violently against his ribs, as if he was on the verge of a heart-attack. The brown-haired teenager finally sat down, face to face with the instrument of his own destruction, admiring her even more closely.

Basking himself into her face; yes… it was terrifying. Menacing. Very, very intimidating and scary, but her human features were still there. The nose, the eyebrows, the eyelashes, the only thing that had changed were her lips, the tone of her voice, and of course, her eyes. Fear smiled slightly, basking herself in the attention her enemy was giving her. She liked it, being stared so intensely by him, those half grey/red eyes stared at her not with anger, hate or disgust as she had thought, but rather…

With confusion. As if he didn’t knew what to think of her, and perhaps it was for the better.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“You do?”

He asked, and his genuine intrigue was quite the nice massage to the pinkette’s ego. Betty pointed her right hand’s index finger towards her own face, twisting it into a circular notion, making sure Frisk knew she wanted him to take a look at the entire thing, all of her features, before the hand went back to the table.

“You’re probably thinking about how terrifying my true face is. And… you’re confused about why I ain’t looking you with hostility.”

“… Can you—?”

“Read minds? No. But its obvious by the look you’re giving me; you don’t know what to think.”

The situation didn’t improve in the slightest, but the mood certainly did. Noire smiled at the human’s puzzled yet shameful look, he had been caught up, but she wouldn’t reprimand him. At the very least he didn’t call her ugly, disgusting, nor anything of the sort. More than likely, his brain was still trying to make sense of what he was looking at, and the letter he received a while ago, alongside its contents. They had a lot to talk about, and that’s precisely why Betty requested for him to come see her entirely alone. To put an end to it all… both emotionally, mentally, and physically.

Yes… with Frisk right across the table, in her very room, she knew she made the right choice. Her resolve strengthened itself, right as Frisk breathed in, filling his lungs with air as slowly as he could. The rain seemed to relax him even more, easing up his own mind, before his lips curved shyly into a smile. While her face was indeed kind of… shocking at first… she still looked quite feminine, and human.

He never realized… how long and beautiful her eyelashes were.

“I… I don’t think you’re ugly. I was just… shocked. That’s all. But… its not—”

“Know your honesty is appreciated. But if your intention is to flirt with me… please, try something else next time. Something more appealing that you genuinely like.”

Well… uh… that was something. A drop of sweat fell through his forehead and feelings of acceptance surged within his soul, as much as he wanted to lie or reject it, she proved to be quite… easygoing? Was that the word? No. Betty was absolutely being serious on her approach towards Frisk, but the way she was speaking was “approachable” enough to melt away a majority of the tension present in the room. While she indeed liked the idea of being the object of his obsession and attention, her and no one else, now wasn’t the time for that. If anything, this might prove to be her last night on earth, a thought Frisk shared with her as well. Both believed the other might do something, sooner or later, to end their life, and were fully prepared to accept said outcome.

That’s why he instantly noticed the change in her mood by just the way her eyes gazed back at him.

“Do you know why I called you here, Frisk?”

Fear the second questioned, and Determination the Third didn’t respond, because he genuinely had no idea. She spoke of knowing “what she had to do”, this was the moment they would both see what came next after coming face to face. The whole world had been expecting for Betty to return and for Frisk to be everyone’s savior after everything she did. The eight fallen took the envelope out of his pocket, putting it in the space between the two, Noire didn’t flinch, seeing her soaked letter, but acknowledging the way her soul jumped inside her chest, joyous at the fact that he indeed read it all.

“You… want to speak about… us, right?”

“Yes. I do. You might ask me everything you like as well, even if I’ve shared and said all I wanted to say, I don’t mind answering your questions, if you have any.”

The Black beast replied, the gears inside her brain spinning coldly, trying to put her own feelings into words, it was way harder to do now that they were face to face, she’d much rather write him another letter, but it wouldn’t be the same. With Frisk here, not only could she enjoy his company, but also be detailed about what she felt, what she wanted to say… and what she expected. The human-looking spell admired each of Frisk’s memories, not breaking eye contact for a single moment.

The good things… the bad things… the horrible things… the bloodshed… the joy… the hypocrisy…

“I want to hear it from you, Determination. Why?”

The tone of her voice was heavy, and demanding. Despite not being a Patience user, Agate’s child knew that to get an answer out of him, she’d need to give him time to reflect on who he was as a person, and what his actions spoke of him. Frisk felt his determination weaken as memories of his own deeds coursed through his mind; each Froggit he killed, each Whisum that pleaded for mercy… the way Toriel laughed and cried, or how Papyrus never stopped believing in him being able to change for the better….

“You're the type of person who won't EVER be happy ”

He could still hear that sentence in the back of his head. Betty narrowed her eyes, noticing how even less determination emanated from him, replaced by even more sadness and depression, knowing full well he’d never be able to see Sans again, their last conversation would forever remain him feeling betrayed at the thought of Frisk trying to reset and ruin everything, just for a few human lives, breaking all his promises of “going forward”, continuing, giving them a future… but he did so with the best of intentions.

This time, he meant it… and even then… he would never know.

“… Because I always thought it didn’t matter… I just… I just wanted to know…”

“Just because being the World Master let you undo your actions with Load, doesn’t justify hurting those you love, Frisk. Being the World Master and controlling the timeline isn’t the same as being a god, nor does it give you the right to play with anyone’s life… much less those who you’re meant to love”

True to her nature, her speech was harsh. Cruel. Cold and merciless. Frisk didn’t felt like crying, he wasn’t that pathetic… but he did felt like multiple daggers had pierced his soul at that moment. His heart clutched inside his own chest due to the pain, and while Betty did feel sorry for him, noticing in his own expression how his sadness and grievance was genuine, it didn’t mean she would be soft, quite the contrary. To care about someone meant to slap them, stop them, and scold them whenever they did something bad. And oh boy, both Frisk and Asriel had done a lot of harm, more harm than good.

But the fact that his sadness and regret were genuine, spoke volumes out of him. He wasn’t screaming or lashing out at her for spitting his mistakes on his face, nor anything like that, she was just telling the cold, hard truth no one had ever told him. Not Chara, not Sans, not Asriel, neither of the three ever told him his actions were wrong; because it was common sense. Something Frisk, seemingly, didn’t have.

“… And what about you… ? why have you—”

“See it from my perspective, before you finish that sentence.”

The girl spoke, interrupting her nemesis as quick as she could, rising her index finger. Betty blinked for a moment, momentarily regressing back to who she had been until then; with a loud “BING” her soul was summoned from her chest, Fear shone with power due to his own weakness, its glowing aura a representation of Betty’s own emotional state. She didn’t frown. She wasn’t severe, she was imposing, yes. She demanded for his attention, his focus, and just as she tried to understand what it would be like to be a fool with too much curiosity and the power to return back in time… she hoped he would indeed try to understand her as well.

“I don’t control my eyes. I just look at people and see their memories, whether I like it or not. I heard a lot of stories about you, the so-called hero of monsterkind who freed them all and improved their lives, and you certainly did. Countless times, be proud of that. Now imagine how I felt… when the day we met, all I could see was you playing god with those you “loved” simply because their reactions intrigued you.”

She had a point. Of course she did. It wasn’t just because he betrayed all her expectations due to Agate’s stories about Copper, like she wrote in her letter. It was because what everyone believed him to be, was a lie. He wasn’t pure, he wasn’t innocent, he wasn’t altruistic, nor was he a saint who fell Underground to grant everyone a second chance at life and bring a new era of peace and unity between both races. Frisk was just a curious adventurer who was blessed with the power of Determination, and abused it to do with it whatever he pleased.

Asriel had a justification; he couldn’t feel regret. As Flowey, he couldn’t feel love. He couldn’t feel anything but rage, sadness, hate and loneliness. Frisk didn’t, and they knew it, which is why she wouldn’t bring it to the table.

“I wanted to protect the world from you. I wanted to protect the world from Asriel. Do you have the slightest idea… of what would happen if a human absorbed a Monster’s soul? Or if, and just think about it, Frisk… what if a monster became a God just like Asriel did, what would happen then?”

“You don’t know if that—!”

“Neither do you.”

Fear interjected a second time, frowning again, and Dreemurr grith his teeth, cornered. He didn’t need to fulfill his promise of seeing it from her perspective, because she was right. Monsters were inherently good, yeah. But no one was incorruptible. If a monster born hundreds of thousands of years later in the future saw the worst in humanity, just as Chara did, all said monster needed to do was murder 7 children, reach godhood, and the planet was over. That’s what Betty wanted to avoid; that’s what Agate wanted to avoid, and that’s all. There was nothing else to it, it was a genuine threat, one all they could do to prevent was… to trust in the future to those who came after them.

Something Betty wasn’t willing to do… until recently, that is.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Frisk… I did want to talk with you one last time. But I didn’t ask for your presence tonight so I could be your executioner. Not anymore. I can’t hurt you. I hate the thought.”

The girl spoke, shocking him. Frisk blinked multiple times, astonished at his nemesis’ words, before a blush took over his cheeks, in realization of what she meant. Betty’s arms slowly started to cross themselves, noticing how his heartbeat seemed to grow faster, and part of her nose and her own cheeks turned pink as well, just like that day he called Akumu “awesome” at school. She could end it all here, and ask for him to sink his sword into her chest if he so desired, or take her hand… but there was something else she wanted to talk about.

Something less related about his sins, and her own ideology… and more so related to that day.

“… That day, when you held my hand after Jessica ran away from School… no one except Mother had ever spent time with me. No one had ever taken me on a “trip”, as useless and meaningless as it was… being with you that day… it felt… warm”

Betty said, smiling as the feeling of their hands; their fingers, intertwined, as he violently pulled her arm, running everywhere. The same memories he had; Dreemurr looked at the hand he had used back then to hold Betty’s, as he dragged her across the entire town, going from store to store… he remembered he went as far as to buy them some Nice Cream, because of how warmth the sun was. A froze treat that warmed their heart, as Nice Cream Guy always said, the exact words he used as an excuse to invite her for a meal, even if they would end up finding Azzy and Sans later that day… the brown-haired teen blushed, not even he knew why exactly he did such thing.

Or maybe…

“Frisk. I’ll give you two choices.”

Agate’s child spoke, before her fingers closed around her soul. Frisk saw how Betty dragged her arm across the table, as if she was offering her literal everything to him, the culmination of her being, everything she was, and everything her Mother had been a thousand years ago, encased within that small, shiny, yet powerful pink heart. On the other hand, there was the right palm, open, inviting.

As if asking him to take it, just like he had done that afternoon.

“Kill me or Spare me. Do whatever you think its right”

“What?!”

He shouted, standing up in disbelief at her own words. Just like that? She was offering her own soul for shattering… just like that? No battle? No fighting to protect the humanity she cherished so much? Where did that left all the— all the killings she had done?... what about Alphys… and Sans? Where would that even leave them?... Frisk’s gaze turned up and down, going from Betty’s hands, to her face, over and over again as the drops of sweat continued to fall from is forehead. This…

This was what he’d been fearing all along.

If he killed Betty… then… that was it. Everyone she had killed would receive the justice they rightfully deserved. But if he didn’t then… what would came later? Was she willing to see things from his perspective? Did she actually believe that the current peace their timeline and both races were enjoying, would be able to last for the rest of eternity?; this should’ve increased his determination, but no. Betty admired how Frisk’s eyes were fully grey now, not a single trace of red present in his irises, neither the soul beating inside his own chest, as his face mixed up despair, anxiety, fear and confusion all the same in a cocktail she found quite amusing. It was just like looking into the eyes of a terrified, scared puppy.

Frisk’s grey eyes stared into Betty’s pink gaze, unwavering. Unmoving. Her eyebrows went upwards slightly, as if silently telling him “Make a choice”, but which one was the right one? Should he… should he continue to be selfish?... it wasn’t easy. She wasn’t hurrying, that was something at least… but he couldn’t stay like this forever, nor she. Dreemurr closed his eyelids, trying to look within himself which path would he choose.

If he did kill her… there was no Reset that could bring her back. It would be permanent. Nothing would restore his Reset ability, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he’d never return to being the World Master.

And the truth is… the truth is…

He did want for her to stay alive. She changed, didn’t she? That’s why she wrote that letter. Why she requested for his presence. Why she hadn’t attacked him, and why she went as far as to offer him the chance to strike her down. Frisk trembled, right where he was, cursing the damn weather and the heavens themselves, no longer enjoying the rain but hating it, because it made his stress reach out even higher levels.

“You… You’d be willing to… to stop?”

He asked, trying to sound serious or intimidating, but ended up stuttering. Betty didn’t flinch. She didn’t reply. She had said all she wanted to say, she’d went as far as to say she was too open and too sincere with her own feelings and thoughts, but that’s the kind of approach one required when speaking with someone like Frisk Dreemurr. He was that dense, that stupid… and that naïve. Her silence didn’t made his situation better either.

So he just asked to himself…

What do I want?

Everyone had been asking for him to just put an end to her, for the sake of the whole world… but… hadn’t she just tried to do the same with him? With monsterkind?... there was no guarantee that indeed, hundreds of years later down the line, a monster wouldn’t reach godhood and the conclusion that humanity didn’t deserve to exist. That’s all Agate and Betty had wanted to prevent, to protect humankind, even if their approach wasn’t the right one, their intentions weren’t purely evil. Betty did discard her desire to kill him, but seemingly, she maintained her belief that maybe one day Frisk’s efforts could lead to a darker future.

Betty spared him.

Put her faith and trust in him despite not ever giving her a reason to do so.

“I… I just… ”

He spoke, almost on the verge of tears. The image of that smiling, cheerful, happy girl laughing and asking him to slow down as they traveled through Ebott City overlapping itself with the current girl staring back at him. Frisk gulped one last time, knowing full well he had made his decision long ago… he’d been pondering about it all this time, secluded inside his own room… he just…

Couldn’t bring himself to hurt her.

As bad as she was… they were both cut from the same cloth. Neither of them had the right to judge the other, not in such situation. Not in a world filled with different shades of grey, not when Evil and Good could coexist inside everyone and everything. Much less… not when the idea of not seeing her again tortured and terrified him way more than he was willing to admit. Frisk’s hand gently started to descend into the right one, under Betty’s prying gaze, who soon enough, closed her fingers around his own, allowing them to intertwine.

“Ah…”

There it was. A feeling he had seemingly forgotten. Frisk felt his heart skipping a beat as Betty gripped his hand tightly, yet not violently, before her soul sunk itself back into her chest. The Black Beast’s blush intensified as she stood up, walking so she could be by his side, never once breaking eye contact, nor allowing their handholding to break either. It was nice… it felt nice, nostalgic… and somehow…

Even if it wasn’t meant to be… it felt right.

“… So this is your answer… ”

The Beast spoke, unable to contain the smile that slowly started to extend itself, curious. How… interesting. Their closeness seemed to invigorate Frisk’s trait, bringing it back to life as her left hand reached out for his chest. Frisk felt himself being pushed back just slightly, due to his enemy pushing her weight on his own chest; as Betty started to take one hand behind her rival’s shoulders, a position he’d never seen anywhere but the movies. Nervousness and Determination filled his soul at that very moment, as he felt how Betty started to eagerly rub her thumb against his own.

Very well… he chose to take her hand, and just like her, wanted to explore this new outcome; this future, together, side by side.

“With you by my side… and with me by your side… I’m sure we can make them both prospers in ways history never could’ve imagined, don’t you think?”

The Black beast spoke, dangerously close to the human’s mouth, not a threat. No, just her own ambition, forever present in her being. “I, I, I” Frisk continued to say, not knowing how to continue, something that honestly, made the pink soul want to laugh. This felt way better than scaring him to death. Way better than punching him into a bloody pulp; as the scarlet, shiny crimson color slowly returned to his soul and his irises, Betty couldn’t help but admire his features, his lips more specifically, and how tasty they looked.

“Come on, Frisk… if you don’t flirt back… you’d end up… losing”

Chu~

She gave him no time to act. No time to think. No time to react. The Beast followed her own instincts, what her body and soul wanted; what Fear craved was for Determination, a constant “call”, as one would say, as if two animals of the same species had found each other in the wilderness, and decided to become a couple. Yes… such a nice way to put their current situation. Frisk tensed up as her lips, despite their strange shape, pressed against his own, the woman who was meant to kill him and undermine all he had built with his friends and adoptive family pressed him against the wall, lovingly invading his mouth with her long, thick reptilian-like tongue. Surprising… shocking… but not disgusting nor nasty in the slightest. No… it felt… relaxing. His mind slowed down, and so did his shoulders. His guard was already down by then, but now it seemed to decrease even more.

His small, human-like tongue had nothing to do against hers, but it was alright. His hands slowly went to her body; across her hip, embracing her as she did him. The kiss broke after a while, before the Eight fallen felt her head rest just where his soul was, perhaps it was an instinct born from her nature as a “Black Beast” of the Fear trait, wanting to hear and be close to his soul at all times.

He didn’t mind… at all.

“Hey… Frisk.”

“Y-yeah… ? What is it?”

The ambassador asked, as the same blob who had turned on the oil lamp crawled through the table, turning it off so the darkness could swallow them whole. The rain continued falling, staining Ebott and its greenery with its purifying water. Maybe it would be a while before the skies would clear up again, or maybe it wouldn’t. What was a given fact, was that from now on, they would have a lot to do, and much to change, many new difficulties would arise from the horizon due to this newly found relationship…

But it was alright.

It was perfect, she didn’t care, neither did he.

“… I think I love you”

The woman spoke, gently dragging him across the room into where a thousand years ago, Amber used to sleep. The bedsheets were pulled away, he was in desperate need for a good nap, and the idea of remaining in his embrace seemed like a nice way to spend the rest of the night. Neither of the two cared about the fact that Frisk seemingly vanishing without a trace would trigger a Red alert across the entire town, and more than likely he’d get into a lot of trouble once he came back tomorrow. Betty growled; purring like a cat as she felt his arms tightening around her body, possessively, yes, that’s how she wanted to be treated, and how she would treat him from now on. He was hers, now and forever, his fate was sealed, she would show him, one day; they would show them all.

Maybe… just maybe… Frisk, thought, as his head rested against the pillow, next to Betty’s that for the first time ever… he made the right choice. Or perhaps… he’d been making right choices all along.

“… I love you too, Betty… always have… and always will…”

The end.

Chapter Text

Determination the third looked back at the door leading outside his room, his heart pounding against his chest, trying to rationalize what was going on.

If Betty had sent one of her blobs after him, knowing full well the Dreemurrs were downstairs but not attacking them, then that could only mean she wanted him.

What for? A reunion? Nothing guaranteed him the house wasn’t being filled with them right now, this could very well be a trap… or more than likely; it was an actual trap. Cold sweat fell from his body as a shiver ran down his spine, what could he do? What should he do? A part of him wanted to fulfill his duty.

Go downstairs, tell everyone what just happened, and maybe gather everyone to follow the thing into the forest— no. No, it would be useless. Considering that was her “territory”, she might as well have filled the entire damn place with more blobs, every single tree containing one, so sending multiple teams in there would be suicidal.

That’s precisely why going alone was, indeed, suicidal as well.

And then… there was the part of him that actually did want to see her and talk one last time.

Even if it kills me… It feels like I’m dying already…

Yes. His life was all about making mistakes and hurting those he loved because of his selfishness. Frisk always knew that same selfishness would get him killed one day; and maybe that day was today. The last thing the ambassador did, was stare at the butterscotch/cinnamon Pie, memories from his first travel through the Underground; the fear and horror he felt when he first killed Toriel by accident… the anxiety and slight terror both Sans and Papyrus caused him… the panic Undyne’s presence made him feel… the way she spoke of Asgore… the joy he felt whenever he and Mettaton acted together; and the feelings of betrayal learning about Alphys’ scheme to be a part of his adventure… alongside the sensation of “ending” he felt when facing Asgore for the first time…

That one emotion, one of the very few things he could still recall perfectly; thinking that red trident would be the last thing he’ll ever see, was very much present right now.

I’m sorry, everyone… for never being good enough

Thus, Frisk Dreemurr opened up the window to his room, closing it behind him as he jumped, landing into the mud; the pink blob sent by Betty emerged from the dirt, growling slightly as it started to emit a dim light from its mouth that he could follow, before speeding into the woods.

He never turned around to stare back at his home, because he knew he would’ve broken down into tears if he had done so.

.

.

THROOOOMP~

Another thunder fell from the sky as the brown/pink-haired creature awaited, impatiently, arms crossed under her small chest while protected with a blob-made umbrella. Betty could feel it, not just thanks to her connection to her blob, but also because of the magic bond that united them. The monstruous shaped girl moved her legs from time to time; she had chosen a nice place for her “confession”, or so she believed.

It wasn’t anything special by any means; it was just a giant crater in the middle of the forest, like a valley. Yes, that would be the correct term. A Valley, big enough for it to be perfect for a final battle, if he so desired. Betty had come to terms with whatever should happen in this place; if Frisk rejected her, more than likely, her grief and anger would take the better of her, and she would fight and kill him.

Not out of spice or hate… but out of sheer anger at being rejected. Not like he could blame him. The reason as to why she hadn’t divided into two again was because she wanted him to see her true form, her true face; her sharp teeth, her broken, melted lips, and her demonic-like eyes and accept her for who she was, if lucky.

That’d be the best-case scenario, and the one she secretly hoped for. One where they would end up together.

“… It’s a beautiful night outside, don’t you think, Frisk?”

The girl asked at her first love, not turning back to see him when she felt him right behind her. Both of them were slightly surprised about the fact that, despite how their souls resonated with each other; feeling their opposite standing right in front of the other, neither of them emanated hostility. Fear called out for Determination, and Determination answered back to Fear, but not with hostility. Not with Hate.

Not with anger, nor disdain: more like… a lighthouse in a stormy night, guiding a lost ship so it could reach home safely.

Dreemurr didn’t reply, not at first. His face instead, focused itself on Betty’s back, and then the place she had chosen. The circle of trees surrounding the whole area, alongside the “Lower” level of the valley and its size made it all seem like some sort of battle arena, did she brought him here to put an end to his suffering? He had been running for a good thirty minutes before reaching this place, so he wasn’t that sure of what she wanted.

Especially because, now that he came entirely alone, without anyone’s prior knowledge, she could very well finish him and fulfill her goal, because being face to face with her, hearing her voice, just seeing her back… he knew he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“… Sigh… Yes… I guess… ”

He sighed back, before starting to walk next to her. His pants and boots already covered in mud, like his body was completely soaked in sweat and water. The brown-haired boy slowly started to walk towards the pink-haired female, his posture a mixture of resignation, tiredness, lack of sleep, and clear depression. Gone was the happy, smiling boy she had met on their first meeting, the joy-filled ambassador that showed kindness and smiled to everyone around him, now replaced by a broken teenager who barely could tell where he was.

The umbrella seemed to grow bigger, an act of kindness that shocked him as he rested next to her. It was dark, the clouds were so thick not a single star could be seen, but despite all the darkness around them, in a way… Frisk felt warm, and not just him.

Silently, his head tilted to the left; his red/greyish eyes looking at Betty who didn’t move a muscle, focused on the horizon, while the rain continued hitting the umbrella she was holding, despite not being a telepath, Agate’s child could kind of guess what he was thinking. Her cheeks burned slightly due to the intensity of his gaze.

“You feel it, don’t you? our souls are resonating.”

“… Its warm.”

Yes, yes it was. The third child of the Dreemurr Marriage replied to her question, before nodding. The blob that she had sent looking for him jumped from the floor, merging itself with her right leg, becoming a part of her very flesh, right in front of him. Frisk hadn’t seen her true face yet, but he already noticed her voice sounded deeper than usual, less humane, it was the same tone, the same voice, but way deeper, more… guttural.

Fear the second let out a small growl; a cloud of vapor forming itself because of her breath, before finally mustering up the courage necessary to look at Frisk. When their eyes met, she was slightly hurt at his expression after seeing who she truly was. Frisk was accustomed to looking at Amber’s human-like face, not Betty’s beastly, monstruous reality.

Seeing those sharp teeth peeking from underneath those broken lips, as if they’d been cut by a saw, alongside the dark-pink sclera and the slit, feline like pupils staring back at him, shocked him. Betty felt her magic and soul grow in power thanks to Frisk’s fear, but she didn’t like that feeling one bit. What seemed to ease her up was how, even if he backed away slightly at the sight, he didn’t manifest his Shield or Sword.

Good.

“Hmph… I knew you wouldn’t like it. By your reaction, at least it confirms me that I do look intimidating.”

The woman spoke; as a result of receiving his Fear, part of Betty’s brown hair became pink, but just a tiny bit, before she backed away, not wanting to be seen by him anymore. The last thing she wanted was for him to run away, after all. The teenager, on his end, was confused, shocked, afraid… and surprised.

Was that… how she truly looked… ? it would explain why Akumu was nowhere to be found. His first theory, and what more than likely made sense, was that they had merged. It would explain why she could do the same with all the blobs she summoned, Akumu was no different. Alright, alright… he could do this… he could… do this.

His lungs filled with air, slowly. Fully. Dreemurr closed his eyelids again, Determination fueling his soul, coursing through his veins, but it wasn’t one powered by hostility, no. It wasn’t his objective to destroy, hurt or attack; Betty could sense it. Frisk’s determination shinning with power right next to her, not with the intent to damage her… but only to gather some courage and bravery to continue onwards.

How cute.

“I… I think it makes you look cool… intimidating, but… cool…”

Heh. The exact same words he said about Akumu back in school. Betty felt her lips curving into a smile, as she laid her head back slightly, her position changing from one of wait into one of pride. So he did thought of her as scary? Good. Good. That was good. The girl’s soul resonated with joy, a mixture of sadistic satisfaction and defiance at the increasing aura of the red soul next to her, but that wasn’t what was important.

At least they weren’t trying to kill each other. The less she mentioned about Sans, Alphys and the children she murdered when gathering souls to fight off against Gaster and Undyne, the better. Frisk saw Betty extend her hand upwards; before, much to his surprise, the flesh itself started to split, forming a small hole to the inside of her body.

“I didn’t call you here because I wanted to show you my true face, Frisk. Nor I called you here to kill you. Here.”

The girl spoke, launching one bomb after the other as the two paper sheets she had used for her confession. Her “Love letter”, or letters, perfectly folded into a rectangle. Frisk tilted his head to the right, obviously, not understanding at first what he was seeing. Betty pushed the paper sheets against his chest, to which he grabbed them gently, still not knowing what to say. While it was very, very dark and there wasn’t a single source of light present, he didn’t need it.

His eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness because of having walked for so long following the blob’s shiny tongue from afar.

That’s when he finally started reading. Little by little his eyes traced the lines, reading every single word, all her feelings, her personal demons, her resolve; her everything. Everything that had been keeping Betty at bay from continuing her mother’s vendetta and her crusade against Human/Monster coexistence, had been not him… but her own feelings, her own heart. Her emotions, and what he made her feel.

Just like how Frisk couldn’t bring himself to hurt her, she couldn’t bring herself to attack him… or at least, not kill him.

One minute. It took him around one minute to read all Betty wrote, and by the time he finished, his nemesis was staring at him intensely, those evil looking, demonic-like eyes, straight form a creature of nightmares, looking for an answer. An answer that Frisk needed time to find… not because he didn’t felt the same way. It was precisely because he felt the same way, that he was so surprised.

So… shocked at the fact that Betty had been in a similar situation to him, all along.

“… I… Its… Betty, I…”

“What?. You… what, Frisk?”

The Black Beast questioned to the human, her face growing closer to his, so close that not only he could feel the heat emanating from her chest; produced by the sheer amount of power her soul had, but not just that. When she asked him what he was thinking; demanding a clear answer, he could smell her breath. One would think that, since she wasn’t a human, but a beast; a spell made to feast on the souls of those she killed, that her breath and overall body would stench like death, dried blood, or something similar… but no.

Betty’s breath smelled like strawberries.

“Frisk. Answer me. Now.”

Her voice pulled him out of his head again, not giving him any moment to reflect on his own feelings, or the sweet smell emanating from her entire figure. Betty observed how Frisk’s lips trembled at her request, and how his cheeks turned red, brighter than before, alongside his eyes. His skin had a similar tone, quite red, very pretty… but his reaction is what made her start to question the meaning behind it.

Was he attracted to her?

Those times he held her hand so tightly when they were “Friends”, the so called “mini-date” between the two as they looked for Jessica… could it mean something else? Or was he just embarrassed about the fact that a girl was so close to him? He had never been interested in anyone, despite flirting with every monster in the entire Underground multiple times, not a single living being ever managed to catch his attention.

Until now, that is. And it turns out, said being was his nemesis, the one destined to kill him and all his friends, the woman who murdered his own classmates in cold blood, and the one he considered his Best friend.

“Betty… I… the reason I’ve been unable to fight you is… the reason I came here… I—”

His words died in his mouth at that very moment, when he saw her tilt her head, wearing an expression of annoyance due to his lack of commitment. The gears inside her brain began to turn, searching for an answer that justified his cowardice, and the reason as to why his body trembled so much. Then she felt it.

Determination.

Warm. Kind. Addictive. Not menacing. Not threatening. Not hostile. Not anything. Frisk’s joy fueled and powered up his soul as he realized Betty felt the same as he did, he wasn’t going mad, no. His emotions resonated with his soul, who, in turn, started to call out to its fated rival, screaming and begging for Fear to get closer, and closer, even if the wielder himself didn’t knew what was going on, Betty didn’t either, not fully.

“Hmm… I think I get it now…”

“Huh… ?— H-hey!”

What came next, surprised him. With the rain falling around them, and the dark, cloudy forest as the only witness, Frisk Dreemurr’s chin was grabbed by the Black Beast, the Bete Noire, Agate Lightvale’s masterpiece, who had a smirk of victory on her face, the flames of her continuous anger finally vanishing completely when she realized the reason of his behavior. Betty forced Frisk to stare back at her smiling face, as her thumb pressed itself on his chin and her index finger did the same.

Oh, so he wanted her as well, huh? Very well. Very… very well… despite how quick and fast things escalated, sometimes, their own souls knew more about them than their own minds. Maybe what they needed to put an end to this stupid stalemate of constant silence was letting their souls do the talking instead.

Chu~

“Hmph?!”

As a moan of surprise escaped his lips, a growl of delight emerged out of her throat, right into his. While Frisk’s face already was lighted up into a bright, shiny, red color, the… the kiss, his first kiss no less, stolen and given by the girl he should hate, yet couldn’t leave his mind ever since he saw her for the first time, was more than enough to turn his whole face red. Red, like the color of his blood. Red, like the color of his trait. Red, like an apple, like a Tomato, like his very own eyes. Betty’s grip on his face vanished as her lips pressed themselves on him even more; his soul jumped inside his chest, wildly, violently.

As if it had been set ablaze.

A similar situation happened to Betty, who felt her magic and her very being empowered by the fact that, her deepest, purest desires were being satiated. It wasn’t Fear what was fueling up her power, and motivating her right now, no. It was happiness… happiness born from that damn feeling she thought she would never experience, but who’s meaning had been there all along, hiding in clear sight.

The one thing that kept Hate at bay from consuming her completely…

Love.

It had always been love. Her nemesis. His enemy. Her rival. His destiny. Her hypocrite. His traitor.

Her human… and his Black Beast.

When Betty finally broke the kiss, not a single word was spoken. They looked at each other silently, not caring in the slightest about the fact that Betty herself got soaked in water because of her position; her body laid there, resting against his chest, looking for his own warmth, while the light coming from both their eyes gave the couple a more innocent, child-like feeling, due to the innocence of it all. One wouldn’t think they were two serial killers, pathological liars, who carried with them the fate of the entire world.

No.

All they were, was a newly formed couple, amid a storm, that fell in love with each other at first sight.

“Hey… Frisk?”

Pink called out; a blob extending from her body to work as an impromptu bed, for she felt the need to rest on him, a desire to not just feel and hear his heart beating next to her ear, as a sign of him being alive, but also wanting to sense the power emanating from that scarlet heart she was born to hate, yet now couldn’t live without. Betty closed her eyelids, an overwhelming joy washing over her when she felt how Frisk’s arm surrounded her body, keeping her close to him, possessively, lovingly.

“Yes… Betty?”

The Ambassador called out to his rival, the taste of strawberries still present in his mouth after what she had just done, his voice sent a sensation of fulfillment and happiness she had never felt prior to that night across her entire existence, one she was quickly growing accustomed to, starting to like and relish it like it was the most precious thing ever.

Yes… there was no way she could ever bring herself to hurt this hypocrite idiot. Maybe the future where they could be together would be filled with tribulations, nightmares, and challenges. She had a ton of sins on her back, but so did he, and even so, the world forgave him… so perhaps, they could forgive her too. It’d be fine if they didn’t anyway, the only one she needed was Frisk himself.

As long as he was with her, her life would be worth it.

“I love you.”

“… I love you too, Betty.”

And he said, before kissing her again, this time, his hands going around her hip as she embraced his shoulders, allowing their souls to continue resonating, calling each other, even in such a horrible night, their own love prevailed, as long as they were together, the future, no matter what it brought with it…

Didn’t felt as scary, quite the contrary… it felt interesting, and for the first time ever, Betty believed that maybe… just maybe… she could learn to see things the way Frisk did.

The end.

Chapter Text

This project was initiated on October 20, year 2018, as a request from an user called "Dannalinda.com" who's comment is on "Heaven's Glitch". I never finished it until now, because I felt it wasn't the right moment, but I never liked leaving things on the drawing board, despite her leaving a long time ago.

Glitchtale and Betty have traveled a long path since then, and her death is getting closer, I can tell. Frisk's already happened, and the fandom acts as if he never existed in the first place, but I don't care. Despite everything, I love Brisk, and these two deserve a happy ending. Wait for more of this couple in "Tales of the Multiverse", because the requests keep coming, and that makes me very happy.

Danna, if you ever read this... better late than never, Right?

Attention; for a better experience, I recommend you to read this entire story listening to "Ever-present Feeling"

~Miguel16310, December 2019.

Multiverse.

Glitchtale.

One-shot: Confession.

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Why the hell am I writing this?... damn it... I don't find another way to express myself, Even if I don't want to do it I... I... I feel lost.

I should hate you... I should despise you... but I don't want to, I don't want to!

Frisk... my beloved... please, help me...

What the hell have you done to me?, I was made to hate you, made to destroy you and everything you built... and all I can do is love you more, and more, and more!

And it hurts me... it hurts, loving you hurts me so much!, I'm going crazy, every time I you're away from me, every time I picture you crying because of my actions, I suffer, suffer, suffer, SUFFER!

I hate me, I hate me, I hate myself so much... why did I have to fall in love with you?

My trait, my body, my existence, my pesronality, my mind; my soul... it all was made to hate you, but I can just love you, each time I try to, I cry so much and... and I feel so alone.

Comparing myself with you, I have no one... not even Akumu, for he is another part of me, nothing else.

I'm completely alone in this world, no one could ever love me; I wasn't made to be loved by no one, yet Agate never thought I'd be able to love, that I'd be able to feel, that I could care... that I could fall in love.

Frisk... Beloved... Do you remember the first time we met? you know; back then, I used to fake being a human, I faked being your friend, I made sure to know all about you; your hobbies, your friends, your routines, your behavior, even likings. Am I a psychopath? maybe yes, I did all those things just so I could find the perfect opportunity to know you... and I did.

You were so clueless that day, until you saw a small, innocent girl "about to get into a car accident." My ilussions were perfect, undetectable to my victims... but I didn't expect you to jump in to save me. I... I felt so happy. I thought it was because I got your attention. Now I understand everything. It was because you saved me.

You put yourself "in danger" for somene like me...

To recall that, it makes me wish I had valued you more, I wanna be a human, I wanna be with you, I don't wanna be a beast!, I ain't a damn beast!, can you see me Agate?!, I CAN LOVE, I CAN FEEL!

Beloved... please, I beg of you... save me...

.

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Bete Noire stopped her hand at that moment, noticing the tears falling from her eyes, slowly descending across her chin until they stained the paper. Her free hand; the right one, went to her face, touching with her fingers the small salty trail left by the small tear, her eyes trailed the lines, reading what she had been writing so far, a couple of times.

With each lap, her soul ached a little more, the pink color of Fear losing itself slowly, little by little being replaced by a grey tone.

Her eyebrows frowned in a expression of annoyance, the wishes she had of taking that paper, crush it and torn it apart were many, but something inside her didn't allow her to, like an anchor sinking itself into the bottom of the ocean to stop a ship.

Said anchor was the pain of love.

What a ridiculous word, coming out of her mouth; from hers, who some days ago had been delighting herself in almost triggering a war between her, and the races living on Ebott, yet here she was, the oh so great Black Beast, in the middle of darkness, illuminated thanks to the moonlight filtering through one of the multiple holes in the rooftop; Noire felt useless, powerless, like a child.

She took her hands to her face, covering it as if she was ashamed of being seen, standing up, ignoring the chair and the table she had been occupying until then.

"Grrrr..."

She hated this feeling, and at the same time, she hated not valuing it enough.

The rage she felt for that brief instant vanished through a growl, before she sighed longly. The heat brought by that feeling went away, allowing the cold sadness to return, accompanied by her eternal solitude, her house might be small, but other than her chair and that table, she had nothing else... more than likely, Frisk would be inside his house, tucked into a warmth bed, surrounded by love, or maybe thinking about how he could destroy her.

That idea saddened her enough to look at her hand, before turning around, sitting in front of her impromptu desk again.

This was helping her, but not that much.

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What am I writing?, why am I even asking for salvation in the first place?... I'm so confused, I'm going insane, these feelings are killing me, I wanna go back in time; I want you to be with me, I want to experience love, I wish to know... feel and be in what you people call a "relationship".

They say that love is blind, and that madness its his eyes... is that true, Beloved? what are you feeling right now when it comes to me?, I am an idiot for asking such thing, its obvious you hate me more than anyone in the entire world, your hate for me must be as big as mi love for you is.

My heart hurts, my soul does so as well... all because you're not here with me, my tears are running through my cheeks as I write this, staining the paper sheet, I feel so lonely without you... I don't want this anymore, I can't stand this for just a second longer, its not because I care about your friends; its that I can't take away the image of your crying face off my mind, Asriel cried so much when I killed Sans; how much did you cry?

Just picturing you face, soaked in tears, your throat tearing appart in pain as you whine makes me want to throw up.

I can't look at myself knowing what I've done; you cried and maybe, you continue to do so... all because of me. Not for my absence, as I do, but due to my sins. I betrayed you, my heart, I betrayed everyone just because I wanted to follow that stupid prophecy I was made for, but... Mom isn't who I am, I don't hate Determination.

I love you.

I love you more than anyone on this whole planet, I long for you to come through this cabin's door, hold me in your arms, for you to forgive me, to say that you love me, kiss me and take me into your house, I want to be cared for... to protect me from law, from your friends, from everything...

I want you to hold my hand, with those cute fingers of yours, and say to me "Its going to be ok, Betty"

Yes... Betty... how I wish for that to be my true name, and not just "Beast", you and me Beloved... I want for just to be you and me, but it kills me... it hurts me that It can't be that way, I don't know much about human customs, because I ain't one, I never had parents, nor was I a girl, I look like this because of Amber, but I still want for us to get married.

Picture us, Beloved; me wearing a pink wedding dress, and you with a shiny, red tuxedo, wouldn't that be perfect, beautiful, wonderful?

Frisk... if its all true, then we're both connected in some way, its marvelous, because no one other than us shares this bond, but at the same time its horrible... can you feel my despair? my skin tickles and it itches so badly due to writing this damn letter, I feel like tearing it off... I feel so sick...

I need a soul... I want to eat another one, I want to take someone else's soul and devour it, but I can't, I can't! because I know that if I do it, you'll cry, holding someone's corpse in your arms as sadness devours you, I don't wanna make you suffer... even if I'm agonizing.

Please forgive me, but I couldn't control my actions, the monstrosity that I am, this demon, this abomination born from Mother's resentment... is something out of my control.

But my pain... all this guilt and love keeping me here, chained to this cabin, I don't wanna go out to face all the evil I've done, even if my heart is begging for me to scream at you how I feel, even if my stomach is yelling at me to consume another soul, I won't get out.

I'll stay here until I run out of paper sheets, then?... then... I could cry to death.

Damn you all, Agate, Copper, Amber and all the mages! did she never conceive the idea of me deviating from my intended path? some sort of self-destruct mechanism or something to punish me?... no, of course not, that selfish imbecile, all you wanted was to see me holding Beloved's head like a trophy, right?

Well then, I won't give you that satisfaction! Even if this love kills me first, I'll be happy seeing you rotting on your grave, unable to fulfill your vengeance, you... heartless bastard without the ability to forgive, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!

.

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Her writing started to worsen as she repeated the last sentence, the user of the cursed negative trait stopped shortly after, seeing how she went way pass the limits of the paper, the letters vanished once the pencil entered in contact with the wood, but it continued to repeat itself inside her heart. Hate, the enhancer, the trait, its evil; the origin of all her disgrace.

Agate hated Copper, that's why she made her.

... Frisk hated her, and that's why she was suffering, mortified by her reality.

Luckily, she had brought an eraser she stole the prior night, it took her an entire day to make up her mind, but she finally decided to pour her emotions into words, what else could she do other than feel sorry? humans believed writing was a good way to let go, and she had a lot of thoughts to expel out of her system.

Little by little, all the repeated "I hate you" started to disappear, until just one remained, sadly some traces from the copies remained due to the pressure she used, giving the overall letter an horrible appearance, but it was alright, its not like sh was meant to be a profesional writer or anything of the sort.

Her eyes glued to the eraser held between her index and thumb, wishing she could erase all her actions after waking up, or maybe have the powers she had seen in Frisk's memories; "Reset, Save and Load", so she could go back in time and change everything, make a difference, be who she wanted to be instead of following someone else's design...

How different would it all be if she had chosen a more peaceful approach from the start?

She would never know, but maybe yes, it would've been.

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My dear... I'm sorry for going off the rail, but I'm so angry with my so called "Mother" for making me what I am... please, let me talk about all the time we spent together, despite being brief. To recall our first encounter so shortly after re-reading all my progress, leaves me unsatisfied.

I want to share my pain with you, from the start.

I was looking for you... I can't lie, back then I was looking for a way to get closer to you, Akumu didn't waste time; he found you before me, and thus I had an idea; "Why don't we fake a car accident?" and soon enough, I caught you in my illusions, triggering the situation that would end up intertwining our paths.

At first I believed you would throw yourself against me, or something of the sort, I never could've thought you'd thrown yourself in front of me, like a hero... when that barrier appeared in front of me, there wasn't any doubt left in my heart, or my chest, it was you: you, Determination!, I was sure i'd end up hating you the moment we met, but that wasn't the case.

I felt so happy when I saw you sacrificing some magic for something like me, I remember it felt like butterflies were flying inside my stomach, my cheeks were burning, and my skin... my skin, all my body felt itchy; I wanted to hug you, I wanted to thank you for what you did... maybe even... kiss you.

But I didn't.

Instead, I just buried my own wishes, and greeted you as platonically as I could; the idea of a cute and adorable girl came to my mind at that instant, that way I could... express what I felt for you, even if just a tiny bit, and mask my true intentions. It was the perfect disguise, the perfect facade...

I could fool them all, even you... but not me.

So I just decided to turn a deaf ear to my own heart.

Following you was... strange. It felt like I've been connected to your life's path permanently, even if it was obvious said connection would shatter eventually; one of us had to die. We couldn't coexist. And even then... looking at your back in front of me, it made me picture you like a guide, or something similar. I didn't knew much about the world, and Mother's memories are very old; too outdated...

I felt happy.

I wanted to hold your hand, but I held back.

To this day, I wonder... what would it feel like to hold your hand, and intertwine my fingers with yours?

I don't care about Jessica, neither did I care about what happened inside that building between you two... it's stupid to write it in a letter, but even the simplest of situations made me happy, as long as I was by your side. Do you know what I'm talking about, Frisk? Before we went to meet that stupid bonehead scientist, when you rose your arm after I greeted her...

You copied me.

You imitated me.

... Do you know how I felt back then?

It was... I don't know how... even writing it makes my hand shake and my handwriting distort...

I loved you, Frisk. I felt honored of just being imitated by you, even in something as simple and ridiculous as rising your arm the same way I did. I guess thinking that way is another one of many proofs that I ain't normal, which is quite obvious.

Knowing your Mother is... was... look, the school means a lot to me. When you asked about my magic, I didn't lie to you: I had spent a lot of time isolated due to my unique nature, but I guess Toriel simply forgot. I ain't like you... I have a Creator; who's the closest thing to a "Mother", I've never met that feeling...

So when I saw you embrace that Goat, I felt jealous.

Its hard to explain, but I kind of wanted to have what you had. How would my life be if I had been a human, if I had friends, if I had been born from a womb? How would have my mother raised me?, would I love her as much as you love that Goat? she was surrounded by an inviting warmth, as if dragging anyone to give her a hug similar to yours. I guess that's as close as I would get to "motherly love" for as long as I live.

And on the other hand... it was your fault, slightly.

I also wanted to be hold by you.

But not like that, no. I know you've never had someone special before, and I wanted to be that someone. I should have told you how I felt, who I was, be prudent... maybe you could have helped me right then and there—you, your mother, even Jessica.

I didn't; I kept burying what I felt.

When she asked me if I was your friend, I felt embarrassed, so much so. I think it was my heart telling me that the idea of ​​being friends, and even more, was what I really wanted. Anyway, things didn't work out well for my facade. I was afraid that the moment Akumu came out to protect me from Toriel, everything would go to hell.

Instead, you flattered me.

Kumu was half of me, my other self, the inner parts of my body... so it was as if you praised me.

I was awesome in your eyes; you liked me, I was "cool"... its no wonder my cheeks turned red because of it.

It was one of the very few "honest" parts of my small act, something I couldn't control, because even if I had shut my own heart, I couldn't control its reactions.

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Fear the second stopped her writing a third time, due to how hot her cheeks felt and the speed of her heartbeat, she didn't knew if it was her heart or soul, but something inside her didn't stop jumping and growing warmer each time she recalled those words. "What is that thing? Its awesome"! resonated inside her head like a broken record set into loop mode.

She was awesome.

"Hehe hehe he~"

A cheerful, yet muffled laugh escaped her lips, the feeling of increasing happiness inside her growing with each passing second.

She had been made to be hated, to rule, and yet, all she wanted right now was to be considered "awesome" by the boy who's life she was meant to take.

Frisk's memories were impressed in her own; due to her eyes violating his privacy to know all his fears, and among them, the neutral route stood out for its main characteristic, something that seemed to be his own: the constant desire to flirt with everything that had eyes and a voice. Virtually every monster in the underground had been flirted with by Frisk, even his own mother.

That also made her jealous.

What would his flirting toward her be like? Would he compliment her hair, like Papyrus did, or her eyes? Would he still think her soul and its color were beautiful, despite what they represented? Or would he compliment something more personal like her figure, face, nose, or something else entirely?

She desperately wanted the answer to those questions.

Scrrrsh~

The tips of her fingers shed their human flesh and nails, giving way to her claws. Part of her true form had manifested thanks to her frustration, and she ended up scratching her table in a gesture of revenge, leaving three distinct lines. Noire observed the act she had done, focusing on the torn and uneven wood.

It was strange, to be honest, how Frisk provoked all those reactions in her and more.

She missed him and their interactions together, she longed to be the object of his praise and attention, she envied his friends who could share with him freely... and she despised the "if only", "what if?" and "maybe"... all for the thought of that boy with the brown hair and the red soul.

Her eyes slowly shifted toward the door, standing there staring.

What if I go out?

The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning, and burned itself into her head. What if she simply threw everything to hell and went out to try her luck with her enemies' ambassador? It was nighttime, and besides, it was late, no one was going to care about her, and it had been a long time since she last executed one of her attacks.

Were they still looking for her?

...

Her legs slowly led her toward it, closing the distance at a snail's pace... it was like walking to her execution. The cold metal of the handle made contact with her hand, and she felt the urge to turn it, open it, and leave that shack to go to Ebott, probably to die or something much worse.

But she didn't.

She turned her head back, staring at her desk once more, concentrating on the letter she was writing to the boy in the blue sweater. Her eyes fell on the pencil, then went to the blank area with nothing written on it.

It was then that she realized that even with everything she had written, her soul was still unsatisfied, and so was she. It had been an impulse and an idiotic idea. Leaving was an option, yes... but taking it at this point would leave her unsatisfied.

She could see herself being led by hundreds of soldiers to her own execution, with the object of her adoration as her executioner. She was even seeing herself saying "I love you" to him as his sword slowly lowered to cut her soul in two.

Betty: It would be a nice way to die -she thought, with a pitiful smile as she slowly walked back the way she had come. Her hand gripped the chair she was sitting on again, sitting down to look at the pencil. She hesitated for a few moments, then finally took it, letting her heart speak as much as it wanted- Sing whatever you like...

The legendary black beast said to the void, once again wielding every writer's instrument.

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A lot of time has passed between what I'm starting to write to you now and the previous line, or so I think. I don't know... I'm only saying this because of everything that crossed my mind before I picked up the pencil again. For a moment, I wanted to go outside, take a chance, and go see you, but I can't do it, not yet, Frisk... I still have so many things I want to talk to you about.

I've always been watching you.

What's that about, you might ask?

What I want to tell you about now is about your friends, more specifically about that comedian-like, good-for-nothing piece of trash. That's what Chara called him, right? Sans... he's probably with you now, asleep, awake, I don't know, and I don't care... I don't even care what happened to Asriel after I left him lying on the doorstep of that house.

What I care about is that bracelet you gave him.

Maybe it wasn't me, or Kumu, but one of my blobs was watching you.

I felt jealous, furious... rejected.

I wanted something from you too, something to prove I was special to you, that was the truth... A truth I ignored, and simply decided to go along with it all. I was happy to see Sans get rid of that precious relic when he got angry with you.

Killing him that same afternoon filled me with pleasure and joy, so much so that I couldn't help but laugh like a mentally ill person.

Now? I regret it... because I made you suffer, I made you cry, and I sealed my fate. I didn't think about that, of course. I just wanted to enjoy having that scum among my ranks, where he should be for daring to receive something from you in front of me.

I would talk about my attacks on the school, but what do the others matter? This letter is to vent, not about what I've done, but about what I feel, about what I couldn't tell you.

The last time we saw each other was the most painful... for both of us.

I want the earth to swallow me up when I remember our battle... I'm ashamed to tell you, Frisk, because I don't know if you feel the same... but I was happy to be fighting you. Remembering how my scythe and your sword clashed again and again makes my heart warm and my fingers tingle, but remembering how I made you bleed...

Makes that feeling go away, and I feel sick.

I guess... it must be my nature.

I like fighting with you, but I don't like making you suffer or hurting you.

Could it be that my only wish is to always end in an eternal draw? I can imagine it, growing with you, fighting with you, day and night, never winning or losing, only fighting, only laughing. Training, perhaps? Can I learn to do new things? Can you learn new things? Could we learn together, in the heat of battle?

I think that's what I really want.

To learn from you, to grow with you in every possible way.

But it can't be possible... I'm doomed.

What more can I say, Frisk? What more can I say?

I haven't seen you in... two, three weeks? Almost all my blobs have vanished, the funerals of the people I killed have passed, but I can feel the gloomy atmosphere of Ebott even from here.

I want to see you... I want to see you one more time, I don't care what happens to me.

I love you, Frisk Dreemurr.

I, Bete Noire, Betty, the Black Beast, Fear the second... I'm in love with you.

And no matter what happens... I'm going to see you.

I want to see your beautiful face... one last time.

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Snif... snif... snif...

The sobs were heard again, but it would be the last time tonight. Noire stood up, reading her entire letter from beginning to end once more. The feeling of having to do something disappeared; she had said everything she wanted to say. There were no more hidden moments or desires inside her; her desperation was now directed not at being saved by her "red prince," but at seeing him again.

She was going to give him that letter, even if it was the last thing she did.

"RRRAAAAARR"

With a rage-filled cry, she grabbed the pencil she was holding and threw it against the wall in an act of farewell. The poor writing instrument collided with it, shattering from the force exerted. Betty watched the pieces of wood jump from side to side, hearing and seeing both pieces falling to the floor, disappearing into the darkness a short time later.

With nothing else to do, she hurriedly headed toward the door of her home, turning the handle so roughly that if she had applied a little more of her natural power, she might have broken it. Finally, after hours, she stepped outside, welcomed by the dark nature of the forest. No animals were nearby. With nothing else to say or do in that place, she set off for the Dreemurr house, the path she already knew by heart.

She was determined to fulfill her wishes no matter what. After all, she had nothing to lose and no reason to live.

How could I be so stupid... ?

She scolded herself, walking away from the only place she had ever been able to call "home."

That trip was like a kind of goodbye to her life; Goodbye to "Bete Noire," goodbye to Agate Lightvale, goodbye to Fear, goodbye to her legacy and purpose... She was going to let all her sins die in those no-man's-land, drowning in sadness inside that hellish shack, writhing for not following the directive imposed by humanity's greatest traitor.

From that forest, the black beast, bearer of the pink fear trait, had not emerged.

A girl had emerged, whose only wish was to make a confession of love. Bete was dead, and she was going to leave her behind.

Even if it was a lie, even if she would never be forgiven... even if she was executed by the boy she loved, she was going to accept it.

Betty was going to accept it.

.

.

The stars were beautiful.

One of his favorite things about the night, or about life in general.

Frisk Dreemurr let the cold night wind gently caress his hair, which swayed it as if it were combing it. Several days ago, he had stopped opting for the neat and tidy style he'd always worn, instead adopting a more Chara-like aesthetic, honoring the late prince, who simply let it be as messy as possible.

And surprisingly, it had worked; he was mistaken for a girl less and less.

He really liked being alone, especially at night. It helped him think, it made him feel free.

Frisk: Um... he muttered, his eyes closed. His mind was filled with thousands of things. He had gone out to relax, but he only ended up giving more space to his fears. When would Sans and Asriel wake up? Both had been injected with Determination, and so far, weeks after their recovery, they showed no sign of leaving their comas, but that wasn't what worried him most.

When would she come back?

His eyebrows twisted in annoyance as he remembered the pink soul user, his nemesis and natural enemy. His face wasn't one of hatred, but one of sorrow, mixed with faint glimmers of hope.

She'd been working so hard to defeat them all, one by one, soul by soul, increasing her power to levels his LOVE couldn't reach, and then she simply stopped. The prince appeared at their doorstep the next day, without any tricks or sign of her, and everyone went crazy, thinking the end was near.

Yet she never returned.

Why?

She was in that forest, he knew it, it was obvious, everyone knew it, but they never saw her again, or at least not until now. Why? What was she doing? Had she given up? Had she found another way to become more powerful? Or had she simply gone to another city to cause terror, where it was easier to acquire human souls?

A part of him, that refused to die, had another theory.

What if she changed?

The part of him that he had been trying to kill for so long, without any success, of course.

He had always loved that pretty little girl with pink eyes and brown hair. Even if it had all been a facade, even if it had been a lie, his love for her was real, and nothing hurt him more that afternoon than learning of his best friend's death and the cruel reality that they could never have a future together. He couldn't allow himself to be selfish, so he simply went to fulfill the long-sought legend, failing miserably in the process.

Asriel died in front of him, and he went crazy.

The look of horror on her face after he cut off her arm still appeared in his nightmares, every time he tried to sleep. Another reason why he stayed awake.

"I can't do it..."

And he really couldn't.

His fingers clenched into a fist. He was using so much strength that they turned white. He couldn't kill Betty, not when every part of him remembered the sweet interactions they'd had the first two days—the dream that woke him around eleven at night was clear proof of that; he'd never be able to cut out that beautiful pink heart.

Having dreamed of having her in a wedding dress by his side, saying "I do", was the final straw.

"Maybe I should kill myself..."

Frisk Dreemurr was a selfish boy by nature, and he would be capable of it. It was the easy option, the coward's option, two words that represented him perfectly. Bleeding to death after slitting his throat with his own saber was a thousand times better than waiting his whole life for the day she returned, because he could see himself building a wall of indifference, resentment, and hatred for years and years with her as his target.

A wall that would crumble the moment Pink and Red met once more.

Toriel would mourn his death a great deal, maybe Asgore, his friends... perhaps. Was there really anything to live for? His determination was at rock bottom, along with his self-esteem. No one would miss him if one day he lied, saying he was going to go grocery shopping, never to return. There were many ways to die, and many places, but he couldn't find a better way or place than the place where all his suffering began.

The flower bed Chara was buried in.

He smiled softly, his gaze fixed on the beautiful full moon that looked at him expectantly, judging him like Sans had once done. Yes, he was going to kill himself tomorrow morning. There was no better time than now, where things seemed to have calmed down, and his two tormentors were with Morpheus; no one would say anything about it or try to convince him to continue living.

Why live anyway?

If he had to be honest, he'd stopped loving monsters a long time ago. Everything he'd done recently was mostly to settle his debt, although nothing would ever give them back the thirty years they spent down there as his personal puppets, dying and reviving again and again just because he wanted to learn more. He'd become like Flowey.

The most interesting thing he'd ever encountered was Betty.

And she ended up being his worst enemy.

How ironic...

All his life, he'd always wanted to find a way to fight Sans, so he could have a real challenge, and now that he had it, he couldn't bring himself to raise his sword and incarnate in a legendary fight to the death... karma was truly a bitch.

Tap... Tap... Tap...

He immediately recognized the feeling his soul transmitted to him, coupled with the footsteps. He knew then that fate wasn't going to keep them apart for long. Frisk thought it over carefully, knowing and feeling that the distance between him and the girl occupying his thoughts was getting shorter and shorter. What should he do? Attack now, call the Dreemurrs for help, or just let himself be killed?

He had been considering suicide after all; the third option was very tempting.

Swwwshhh~

The bushes and their leaves rustled slightly as she walked past them, this time slowly and carefully. She'd been walking faster as the distance between her and him grew shorter, but she stopped when only those bushes separated them from seeing each other face to face. Fear and Determination met once more.

"..."

Neither of them said a word. Instead, they stood still, staring at each other, as if they were about to duel. Frisk ran his eyes up and down Betty's body, trying to find any tension or posture that indicated hostility, but there was none. She was tense, yes, but not in a hostile way, but in another way whose reason he couldn't fully understand.

It was then that he saw the paper between the fingers of her right hand.

His eyes widened, staring at the sheet of paper as if it were an instrument of destruction. His mind raced to try and find a reason why she would come here, holding that, in the middle of the night, with no apparent desire to attack or defend herself in the event of an attack. Nothing made sense, except for one possibility, but considering all the history between them, it was impossible.

And yet, there was the pink-eyed girl, nervously flipping the confession between her fingers, trying to calm herself down.

Betty, for her part, was so tense and nervous that she wanted to be swallowed up by earth. The attentive way Frisk was looking at her only made her intentions more difficult, so much so that she considered simply turning around and going back home, this time never to be seen again... but she couldn't. She made an oath to herself, that past was dead, only pain, misery, and bad memories would await her.

It was all or nothing, with nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Betty: I-I... wanted... - she began, noticing how Frisk raised his right eyebrow at her, stupefied. The pink color in her cheeks increased even more; she felt like what humans called "schoolgirls," or so she understood. Those powerful red eyes, and that distrustful yet harmless demeanor, gave her strength and hope as well, the same ones Frisk had, although she didn't know it- Frisk... I wanted to see you.

The ambassador of monsterkind fell victim to his emotions at that precise moment, just like his counterpart did. The crimson color of his features took over his cheeks and part of his nose, giving him a look similar to Chara's usual one. Betty couldn't help but smile at the sight, thinking to herself how cute he looked with that shade. At least that told her there was hope, a chance they could be together.

What else could explain that reaction?

Frisk: S-see... me? -he stammered, his heart began to beat very strongly, further proof that he still directed his admiration and love towards her. The girl also had her human face, so that terrifying image that he saw only once, little by little disappeared in the back of his mind, being replaced by the cute, tender and adorably embarrassed girl in front of him. The question finally escaped his lips, excited by the answer- Why?

Instead of answering, she started walking toward him. The constant crunching of the crushed grass stressed the pair. For a moment, Determination felt the urge to draw his sword in case of a possible trap, but despite his anti-pink instinct, he decided to leave it to his fate. Betty was literally right in front of him, separated by distance they could close by raising their arms, both of them completely defenseless.

It was their last test; a mutual one.

The pink one decided to give him a window, wanting to end it all. If he wanted to kill her, now was the perfect opportunity. With both arms at her sides, Frisk was in the same condition. She could pull out her needle and rip out his soul in less than five moves if she so desired, but he wasn't going to defend himself. One with a pink face, the other with a crimson-tinged face.

His chest moved back and forth, inhaling and exhaling, then she followed. They were tense, that much was obvious. Hearing each other's breathing didn't lighten the mood, quite the opposite. Time passed, but no one did anything, and that was Betty's signal to act: she slowly rose her right arm, bringing the damn piece of paper closer to Frisk's chest, until it twisted upon contact with his body.

"Please... read it..."

She finally said, breaking the silence that had formed between them. Frisk took the letter with trembling fingers, unsure of what he would find... but the signs, the way she acted, the fact that she hadn't attacked him, and the pinkness of her cheeks... weren't those obvious proofs of why she was there? Yes, they were, but his common sense prevented him from delving too deeply into that idea. For all he knew, it could have been a last wish, a letter of surrender, a peace treaty, or even a joke.

It wasn't any of them.

His eyes scanned the letter slowly, intending to detail each sentence written within, but as soon as he reached the third line and read what came after his name, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. "Bump, bump, bump," his heart went as if it were boxing against his ribcage, the color permeating his cheeks deepening, the word "beloved" echoing in his head, like an echo in a cave.

Seconds later, he looked up at the pink girl.

Noire had brought her right arm behind her back, clutching the elbow of her left arm while avoiding looking at him. For a few seconds, she did so, only to nod once, confirming his silent question, she didn't had to be smart to know where he'd stopped. After all her actions, it was only natural that he was in shock after reading that nickname.

Beloved.

Honestly, she didn't know where that nickname came from; it just seemed right to call him that way from time to time.

After all, he was the object of her love and affection.

Realizing then that what he read was true, he continued, this time with a feeling of excitement and adrenaline accompanying her steady heartbeat. Betty took her chance to stare at Frisk, concentrating on the movement of his eyes. Moving left and right as he went from line to line, it was stressful, exciting... and, of course, exasperating.

So much so that she started moving her right leg up and down, stomping on the grass to try to calm herself.

Betty: How long is he going to take? It's not like I wrote a bible... -Doubts began to turn into fears, in the form of questions. What if he rejected her? Or maybe he'd become so sweet with her flattery and thoughts that he thought she was a disgusting cloying woman? All these questions bombarded her at that moment, mortifying her.

"Do you really feel like this?"

But what happened next, she hadn't expected. Frisk stopped staring at the letter from the one he loved, and now he knew, she loved him back. The girl with pink locks finally met those ruby ​​eyes he had, yet the look Frisk was giving her was unreadable. It was a strange mix of seriousness and something else, which she didn't fully understand.

Was this a rejection?

No, it couldn't be. He blushed, he still was blushing in fact. It had to mean something, right? It wasn't going to be a simple joke; he had even averted his gaze so as not to invade her privacy. Whatever Frisk was thinking about her, she couldn't know, and that was what scared her the most. She simply nodded, willing to give her heart to him to do anything he pleased, whether it was to die or to be together.

Betty: Yes, Frisk -she answered without hesitation the second user of Fear, with a serious expression on her face, something that didn't mix that well with the pink color present in her face, it made her look cute and beautiful at the same time. Even so, Betty had already went way too far, gathering up more courage, she took another step forward, not willing to back down- I love you.

Saying those words was invigorating, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders she hadn't known she had in the first place.

The next thing she felt was a hand moving to her right cheek. Slowly, the distance between them decreased, until they were both fused in a hug. Frisk moved his hand to the girl's back, holding her firmly, but not harshly nor painfully. He simply wanted to have her close to him. The woman's eyes widened in surprise.

The brunette, on the other hand, moved his head to rest it on the right shoulder of the woman who should have been his enemy, embarrassed and not wanting to be seen by her. Having heard that declaration of love so openly and without any hesitation, coupled with the letter he had read, made him want to hide in his bed and never come out again.

After all the flirting he'd done in the Underground, one would expect Frisk to be a ladies' man, but none of it had been serious.

This was it, and he wasn't prepared for it.

His hug was reciprocated sooner rather than later, but while his was soft and affectionate, the pink-eyed girl's was charged with emotion. She held him close to her, even going so far as to put her hand in his hair, so he couldn't move his head from where she'd placed it. The feeling of her fingers in his locks filled him with shame.

Oh, and determination too.

Frisk: I feel the same -he said finally, accepting his feelings, happy that they were reciprocated even if he didn't know it until now. She was hurt, and so was he. Maybe Sans and Asriel had returned, but the same couldn't be said for all the children who had died at school, or on the streets of the city. Even though he didn't seek to ruin the magic of the moment, it was inevitable to reflect on it.

Fear smiled, closing her eyes and feeling the last vestiges of her reality and purpose dying, she took it upon herself to move Frisk's head away from her body to look at him. The crimson hue he had everywhere was truly adorable; his eyes turned to the left just like hers had before, so as not to see her. Betty laughed, touched.

"Something's missing, you stupid fool..."

If he wasn't going to do it, she would.

Chu~

Determination the Third was kissed for the first time in his short life, and it was like a bolt of lightning struck him. Unlike the girl, who closed her eyes in embarrassment, his own were so wide they were like saucers. His pupils rested on the face of Agate's descendant; the pink color had returned to her cheeks, stronger than ever; both of them were ashamed.

They taste like strawberry...

He thought, still shocked and astonished. The kiss continued, without any movement or anything like that, nothing more than lip contact and emotions. Frisk closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away and captured by her. Betty wasn't seeing him, but she felt the tension in his back loosen between her hands, so she took the lead: she held him even closer, taking advantage of the fact that they were the same height, before taking his hand.

Their fingers intertwined, as she had so longed to.

They were warm and slightly sweaty, possibly due to his current nervousness, all typical reactions of a boy experiencing the first declaration, and the last one too, because he wasn't going to let anyone take him away from her. She didn't understand much about human lives, about relationships, about futures, but if they had to work to be together, she was undoubtedly going to put in her best effort.

She loved that idiot, and that's all that mattered.

They separated after a long while, looking at each other with a smile. Nerves and tension returned to plague Frisk for the millionth time that night. She was calm, maybe too calm, and felt a fluttering in her stomach, along with an uncontrollable desire to laugh. Were those the familiar butterflies? Or was she just happy?

"What will we do?"

He asked the right question, and Noire raised her eyebrows, worried. She was an enemy of the white-souled race, yes. Her sins were unforgivable, yes. Asriel and Sans might never wake up, or if they did, there was no guarantee they would be the same people they'd been until then. For all they knew, they could die tomorrow or have a warrant issued against her.

She hadn't thought through how everything would turn out in the unlikely event that Frisk accepted her love.

How could they be together?

Betty: We could leave -she proposed, taking her hands with a smile, it was a tempting idea, the truth is, she had never left Ebott and as she only had Agate's memories, she didn't know much about the world, a nomadic life sounded very interesting in her opinion, exploring the world alongside Frisk, never living in one place, always from city to city or country to country, with nothing but them- Leave it all behind... and never look back...

Determination, unlike Fear, was more realistic. There were many problems with that idea, especially how they would survive and earn money to do so. It was an extremely difficult or even impossible route, so he shook his head. Besides, he still had a lot of things to do here, friends, and family. Toriel had already lost eight children, counting Asriel and Chara... and despite telling her she wasn't his mother, he didn't have the guts to actually leave her alone.

The grief would probably kill her.

Frisk: We can't -the negative movement of his head stopped; the disappointment that dominated his new companion's face made him feel bad, but Betty understood perfectly; it was just the emotion of the moment. The longer she remained silent, the more she thought about it, and the more she understood her reason for denying it- But I have an idea. -He smiled slyly. “What?” She said, raising an eyebrow, visibly confused by his grimace, which made him feel even smarter- The underground, Betty.

Then she understood everything.

The plan was simple, really: without Asriel or Sans bothering him, he'd be free to get up whenever he wanted, even more so since everyone in the city believed his emotional state was in chaos after everything that had happened, so having insomnia would be a good excuse if Toriel ever brought it up. They could meet in front of her cabin at night...

And transform the Underground into their huge, personal love nest.

Betty could already see it: there were plenty of houses in every area they could use to spend the night, and because the Core was still working, the Underground still had electricity, so neither of them would be cold or grow bored. They could talk about their day, make plans, discuss their current situations—it was just perfect.

"In fact, we could go right now"

There was no need to lie, he really wanted to be with her. The letter, for safekeeping, had been tucked deep into his pocket. He wanted to talk to her about so many things: how he'd begun to love her, how beautiful she seemed to him, or the feelings that sudden, unexpected kiss stirred in him... Mettaton once asked him what he'd like to kiss.

Well, simple.

A beautiful, handsome black beast.

The girl smiled, delighted with the idea, nodding several times. While she was familiar with Frisk's journey through the underground, traveling through it in person was a whole other ball game, and she was intrigued to see if the puzzles would still work. They could do so many things together to have fun, like reliving his whole adventure or playing hide-and-seek— heck, even imitate each other.

Betty: Yes... I'd love to -she assured again, squeezing even more the union that their hands still continued to have. Frisk began to walk, with her by his side, distancing themselves from Toriel's house more and more with each step they took, Betty turned to look at Frisk again, watching how his brown hair moved a little with each step, she did it to admire it, and to verify that it was not a dream- Frisk?

Frisk: Yes, Betty? -called the ambassador of the monsters, turning his head to look at her again, he was thinking about where he was going to propose to her to be an official couple, although he wasn't sure if he was taking things too fast, that's just how he felt, and he was sure that she wasn't going to reject him. Maybe postponing it for a while in the future would be a better idea.

The brunette smiled, losing herself in those red eyes, the color of her natural enemy, the trait destined to destroy her or vice versa, but from which she ended up falling headlong, with no chance of escape. How foolish she had been all this time not to listen to her heart, and now that she did, there was only one more thing to say.

"I love you"

Frisk was caught up in the smile of his first love, and once again the color of his soul returned to his face. He had to learn how to counter Betty's flirtations one of these days. He wasn't going to give up the title he'd earned with so much effort and timelines, no sir, especially with his beloved partner, who had so much love to give and receive at the same time.

"I love you too... my dear Betita."

And he was succeeding.

Because seconds later, he received a small punch in the arm.

"You're an idiot, Beloved!"

She exclaimed, her eyes closed and the pink color taking over her hair, a sign of nervousness, but on the inside she was happy, because everything she'd ever wanted came true.

Confessing had been the best decision she could have made.

The end.