Chapter Text
Have you ever felt like the dark?
That’s kinda vague; Kris should rephrase. Have you ever felt like nothing? Like you're composed of no substance. But entirely visible, albeit intangible. When people see you, they look through a warped lens, never truly able to comprehend.
Have you ever felt obscure? Have you ever felt like a theory? Like some hypothesis a Greek philosopher named ‘Riddle me this’ but poetic would cook up while high out of his mind? Have you?
Obviously, Kris is talking about themselves. If you realised that, then congrats! You have a shred of media literacy. Yes, they’re sour right now. As everyday since the divorce.
The day their parents yelled and yelled. And they wanted it to stop, because no matter how much Asriel covered their ears, Kris heard. And all of a sudden, Kris has to explain that their dad doesn't live with their mom anymore.
They know their mom is trying, and so is their dad. But it's still different. Noelle has been sucked into her studies since Dess. Asriel was always busy preparing for college. Everyone looks at them weirdly at school, no matter how much they claim they aren't. And their mom has been… drinking, “just a little.” she’ll say.
Enough that Kris can't block her sobs with their pillow. Enough that in the morning, it's up to kris to care for her. Not Asriel, not their dad, not Mr or Ms Holiday, Kris. Just little ol Kris.
Kris has been feeling like darkness.
As edgy as it is, those words clarify their emotions perfectly. They’re aware sleeping late, skipping meals, losing track of time, imagining themself drowning in the lake, strangling themself. They're aware this could all be signs of depression.
But what can they do?
Asking their mom to ‘be better’ isn’t gonna fix the divorce. Because that’s what happened. Dess disappeared, and their dad went crazy, causing their parents to get divorced. And nothing will fix Kris’s ruined life.
Maybe that’s why their dad made Kris in charge of those flowers.
Kris was visiting. Now that the divorce had settled, Kris was able to move back and force easily. Still, their mom had won custody of Kris and Asriel, so they always had to ask to sleep over. But it was fun, seeing their dad, touring the flowers.
They suppose they had their eye on getting their own for a while. It just so happened that their dad noticed. “I got them to propose to your mother, but now… I’m thinking of throwing them out.” Kris remembered being devastated.
Hearing their dad so casually mention throwing out the last remnants of his marriage with their mom? It was as if nobody cared but them! They expressed this concern by mumbling, “I could take them…”
“Hm? What did you say, sweetie?”
“I… want them.” They remember the wistful smile, those mournful eyes, the silent acceptance. And from then on, Kris took care of the seven flowers.
At first it was… boring. Flowers don’t do anything; they just sit there, looking pretty. But then one day, they were practicing piano on a keyboard Miss Carol gifted them. Huddled in a corner of the flower shop. Their dad was out at the holidays, leaving the shop to themself.
That was fine; they liked being in it alone. Their own little hideaway when the world got too tedious. So they played a simple tune, their tune, one they never played at church. Only for them.
Then, Kris caught the flowers on the edge of their eye. A small draft causes them to sway a little. Kris thought it looked like they were cheering, asking for an encore. And who were they to deny? They played and played, till their fingers cramped and they couldn't remember the notes. By then, it was sunset, and they had to go home.
However, now, they would visit every chance they got.
They would obviously practice and play new songs for the flowers. But they would also speak to them, tell them about their day, rant about who pissed them off. They would talk about a game they liked or a show they watched. A school assignment, a new shirt, the weather, rides at the festival, anything.
Of course, that meant the sad state of their life as well.
What harm could a flower do anyway? Kris had no one to tell about the fogginess that life seemed to constantly be filtered by. The long stretch of hours becoming nearly a minute tomorrow. How they wanted to stop being, but they were scared. Scared of never smiling again.
Scared no one would care, know, or understand that there was more than the pitch black. That Kris was a person before they were ‘Kris Dremurr’.
Flowers can't speak; they won’t snitch; they’ll never leave them; they're not alive. Your secrets are safe with me, Kris would imagine they’d say.
Kris isn't so sure about that statement anymore.
Below them was tile- dirt? Hard and messy. They could tell it was at least flooring. Fine grains of dust clung to their hair in a thin, powdery layer, scratching against their scalp whenever they shifted.
Their mouth tasted like the moss Asriel had accidentally served them as kids. It was a sandwich forgotten in the back, left to decay over time. Kris never told anyone (except Noelle, of course), but they kinda liked the fuzzy spice taste it left on their tongue. Every once in a while, Kris would indulge in the forbidden delicacy. Just a nibble.
Finding their thought process again, Kris sought to listen for indicating noise. If they heard something familiar, maybe they'd simply passed out outside and slept through the evening. Embarrassing, but manageable. Almost as if punished by the angel, their ears heard nothing but silence. Coinciding with their head, which was unnaturally fogged, Kris immediately assumed they'd been kidnapped by a serial killer like in their favorite horror movie.
Unsurprisingly, everyone knew Kris was Ms. Carol's favourite. If someone wanted ransom or payback, they were a perfect option. Most likely, Kris isn't gonna survive a fight, oh well. They lay there, accepting death.
“Hello? Kris, wake up!” Kris snapped up fast enough to inflict wind resistance. Why the fuck did their kidnapper sound like anime?
Above them was a tall man, dressed head to toe in a two-tone vest and dress pants. More importantly, he looked uncannily human. Kris’s skin crawled. He obviously wasn't actually human, no way, he was too yellow. But it didn't make them any less uncomfortable.
The man watched them with open concern, saying nothing as Kris scrambled backward several feet across the dusty floor. “Are you alright? I don’t want to hurt you, human.”
So he really isn't human, as suspected. Or maybe he just doesn't know their name? No, no, he called them ‘Kris’; he’s non-human. Wait- how does he know their name!? A friend of their father? An estranged cousin? “My fault for not wanting to test you.”
Now he had this hurt expression, as if he didn’t kidnap Kris! What the fuck? "I would never harm you," he continued, placing a hand over his chest. "I swear on myself and my friends." Ok great, WHO??? Kris doesn't know this weirdos friends. Maybe this guy’s just crazy?
Well, you gotta be a lil nuts to kidnap a person, so that checks out. “I don’t even know who you are”
He straightened proudly to his full height — Kris estimated to be somewhere around ten foot twenty, and struck a dramatic pose. His hair swayed with dramatic flourish despite the complete lack of wind. “I’m Flowery, Flowery the flower.”
Kris nearly chokes- is this guy serious? Holy shit, who names their kid that? “Nice, how do I leave?”
The man- Flowery, looks to his left, contemplating in thought. “You can’t.”
“What?”
“I'm telling you it isn't possible.” Kris nearly slapped him.
Instead of doing the sensible thing; bolting up and sprinting in the opposite direction until their lungs gave out, Kris forced themself to stay still. They steeled their breathing, remembering the trick their mom taught them. Holding, releasing, and attempting to ignore Flowery's pestering hands. He kept poking them, asking little “Are you okay?” and “My human, respond.” but all this guy could speak in is capital bold with the tone of a bad anime dub.
When Kris gave up on grounding themself (Flowery was doing that enough for them), they fished their phone out of their pocket to call their mom. The ringtone wasn't theirs. With a startled yelp, they hurled the phone several feet away before their brain could object. Panic surged back with renewed enthusiasm.- ok… ok… so their phone is hacked? Or glitched. Maybe it got banged up in their transfer?
"Kris?"
Flowery tilted his head.
"Are my voice lines on mute?"
Everything.
Everything this man said somehow made the situation worse.
“...No”
“Oh good, I thought you couldn’t hear me!”
Not dignifying a response, Kris tries to check their surroundings.
There was nothing.
An endless black void stretched in every direction, swallowing the horizon whole. The only interruption was the patch of soft crimson grass beneath their feet, vivid enough to look painted against the darkness.
For one dangerously hopeful second, Kris almost convinced themself they'd been reincarnated into one of those trashy isekai anime. Flowery's manner of speech and appearance certainly aren’t helping.
Gathering up the billion questions they have, Kris muddles them down to one. “Where am I?”
Flowery gives a bigger smile, which Kris previously thought impossible. “The flower kingdom, my Majesty.” If Kris didn't distinctly remember never touching drugs, they would've assumed this was the world's worst trip.
“Uh-huh, why am I here?” They look around for anything — anyone else, greeted only by the abyss. Doesn't seem like much of a kingdom to them.
“Haha, unimportant! Say, why don’t we have some fun, my human?” Or just brush them off, they're used to it. But if Flowery calls them ‘My human’ one more time, Kris will put him in a chokehold
“If I go with you, will you let me leave?” they decide on saying instead. No reason to piss this guy off.
“Yes!” Kris has reason to doubt.
It’s been a… long day- evening? Kris wasn't even sure anymore.
Hours had passed- at least; they felt like hours. But the sky hadn't changed once. The same warm golden light blanketed everything without even pretending the sun had somewhere else to be. It was deeply unsettling.
Flowery, meanwhile, had spent every second of it dragging Kris from one attraction to another. A live performance piano show where Kris played, a roller skating rink, a card game tournament (where the cards came to life…?), and Call of Duty (also a tournament???).
Kris wants to crash, to lie in their bed. They wanted to bury themselves beneath three comforters, curl into the world's smallest ball, and postpone thinking until tomorrow.
Flowery, unfortunately, had different plans. "The palace isn't much farther!" He'd been saying that for what felt like an hour. "You’ve gotta stay."
"Visit," Kris corrected for what had to be the fifth time.
Flowery paused. "...Visit." There was something strange about the way he repeated it.
"I'm only visiting," Kris added.
Silence.
Flowery merely smiled and kept walking. Kris decided not to push it.
The palace was large, like huge. bigger than all of hometown times five. it could probably fit all of hometown in it. It looked less like somewhere people lived and more like somewhere gods held committee meetings.
“This is it, jarona!” Oddly enough, this is so bizarre that Kris laughs. It started as a tiny snort before growing into genuine laughter; the way Flowery's eyes focused on them was lost in their small laughing fit.
“Welp, in you go, my majesty.” At least he stopped saying ‘my human’. Kris doesn't know why he's attributing them with glory or praise. They don't know this guy, they never gave him their name, interests, or age, yet he knows them. Every single detail. It would be horrifying if the guy wasn't so goddamn hilarious.
Kris follows behind Flowery, admiring the large, grandiose scenery. Not their cup of tea for a home, but it is pretty.
Oddly enough... Almost every statue depicted Flowery carrying Kris. One showed him triumphantly lifting them overhead. Another portrayed Kris sitting on some elaborate throne while Flowery knelt dramatically below.
"Kris." Flowery's voice pulled them from gawking. "There are some people I'd like you to meet." Still distracted by the architecture, Kris turned and nearly flinched.
Four people stood waiting in the center of the grand hall. How had they missed them? Each looked human... Mostly. Their skin came in impossible colors instead of natural ones, making them resemble living crayons more than actual people.
Flowery positively beamed, the expression reminded Kris of a little kid presenting macaroni art to their parents. Albeit, they were people, not arts and crafts. “These are my friends, soon to be yours too!” Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. “From the left to the right, this is Aqua-” He gestured toward the smallest.
The little blue girl waved her arms excitedly, the sleeves of her long shirt swallowing her definitely small hands. She practically vibrated on the spot, barely containing her excitement. "Hi, Kris!" she squealed. "Or is it Kris-cross-applesauce? Uuuuu! I'm gonna call you Kris-Kris! Okay?" Fine by them. “I’m Aqua, we’re both blue, which is really fun cuz we can be blue friends!”
Right.
Kris had noticed their… change in color earlier. When Flowery took them to the skating rink, they had to change clothes from the regal imperial clothes they wore to something more their style. While it was alarming to see blueberries as your hands, Kris was finding this no more worrying than waking up in a void.
“Also! I like playing with knives- and do you wanna play right now?”
She began to pull several knives from thin air, which admittedly impressed Kris. But apparently, Flowery didn't have the same appreciation as he immediately told her off. “Now, now, Aqua, you know Kris is fragile. Cutting them up is no good”
Aqua didn't seem that sad about it, if only confused. “Uuuu, okay, next time I’ll get plastic knives.” Kris nodded, but there wasn't gonna be a ‘next time’.
Flowery moved onto the next person, ruffling Aqua's hair as a little finish. They were a shorter, purple individual, giving the visage of a nerd. More accurately would be a Redditer, but Kris gave them the benefit of the doubt. “Uhm, Kris! My name is Seth; unlike some of us, I actually named myself!” From the way they boasted, Kris guessed that it was meant to be praise-worthy.
“Sounds cool,” they replied, not anticipating Seth to light up so brightly at the two (count them) two words. From the way everyone's been moving, you’d think Kris was royalty or som- oh… oh wait…. they might just be onto something.
Seth clears their throat and preens, “I enjoy the literature arts; I could read you a story sometime if you’d like!”
“Sure, why not?” Again, they practically bloomed with happiness.
“Howdy Kris, my name’s Yellow… gosh… this is hard.” Flowery pats the back of the tall yellow cowboy, flushed in embarrassment. He holds his hat tentatively, tracing the ground with his feet like a dainty maiden. “I’m the sheriff ‘round here; I lock up all those dang darn no-good evil doers to keep the roads clean of injustice.” he found confidence at the end, passionately stating his life's mission.
Kris gave a thumbs up in support; Yellow swooned.
Finally, Flowery stepped beside the last member of the group. A green person with a lazed face and soft smile. Kris absently thought they had a homely vibe. “This is green.” Flowery introduced them. Green hand signed, saying ‘I cook’, then pulled out an arrangement of cookies. gifting them to a very thankful kris.
THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER, Kris hastily yelled words of appreciation from their cookie stuffed face. Green smiled but otherwise remained composed.
Once the last cookie had disappeared, Flowery led Kris away from the others. "We'll have to introduce you to Blue and Orange later," he hummed as they walked. "They're terribly excited to meet you." Kris barely acknowledged him.
They had just eaten the greatest cookies in human history. As far as they were concerned, everyone else had already lost the popularity contest. They had no desire to see anyone inferior to the saint that was green.
“So,” Flowery clasped his hands behind his back, ”how did you like it?” Flowery asks. They walk a relatively empty hallway, if you ignore the flower pot guards.
“Eh… fun, I guess.” Kris dragged their fingertips lazily across the smooth stone wall. Bored and waiting for Flowery to give them what they wanted to hear. Stop stalling.
The answer seemed to brighten Flowery more than the palace lights ever could. "Wonderful!" He spun around to face them while continuing to walk backwards. "That's all we've ever wanted."
His smile stretched from ear to ear. "To make you happy." That smile. Kris was starting to hate that smile.
“Flowery,”
“Yes”
“When can I go home?”
Flowery didn't answer immediately; he simply turned back around and continued walking. “I already said you can't leave.” His voice remained cheerful, but something underneath it had hardened. ”Silly Kris, are you having memory issues? Y’know green has a really good tea that can help wi-”
“Flowery, I want to go home.”
Flowery stopped several steps ahead before slowly turning to face them. The smile was still there, only now it looked practiced. “Kris,” His voice was gentle.
“This is your home now.”
Every instinct in Kris's body screamed.
Run.
They'd known something was wrong from the moment they'd woken up in that endless void. They knew this guy was bad news. They'd been kidnapped. Nothing that happened afterward had changed that.
They need to get help, to find their mom, but their phone won’t work. No matter how many times they tried. Every time Flowery wasn't looking, Kris had tried calling their Mom again. Whenever Flowery caught them trying, he'd gently pluck the phone from their hands with a patient smile. Telling Kris to ‘enjoy the moment’, as if! He just wants to isolate them.
Their captor sighs, slightly saddened, “I don’t want to hurt you, Kris.”
“Then don’t; let me go home.”
“TO WHAT!?” His neatly styled hair puffed outward. His breathing hitched, chest rising and falling too quickly. One hand clutching at the front of his vest as though trying to steady a racing heart.
He took one step forward.
“A father who's too obsessed with chasing conspiracies to notice his failing marriage?”
Another
“A mother drowning her sorrows with a glass?”
Another
“A brother who left you for strangers?”
Another
“A friend who no longer talks to you?”
Another
“Neighbors you’ll never truly be accepted by?”
Like a stake through the heart.
"No one there sees you."
"No one there understands you."
"No one there loves you..."
His expression softened.
"...Like we do."
Kris steps backward; Flowery follows, patiently, the same way you’d comfort a frightened animal. “We love you, Kris- we always have! You're nothing like Asgore.” He spoke reverently, “He never looked at us the same way you do.”
“You listened,”
Another step
“You cared,”
Another
“You treated us like people.”
Another
We've waited so long to repay that kindness.! To be the ones blessing you. All you have to do is be happy, from now and forever, smile.”
Kris’s back hit the wall.
“I-”
Flowery cages their hands before they could retreat. It didn’t hurt, but Kris felt it all the same. “You don’t have to make that choice,” His thumb brushed reassuring circles across Kris's skin. ”I can do it for you.”
Kris struggled against his grip, pushing at his iron hold hand but he wouldn't budge. “LET ME GO!”
“Kris, don't make this harder than it has to be.” Flowery held on, Calmly, Almost lovingly. The same as restraining a frightened child from running into traffic.
Their shoes scraped helplessly across polished marble as they clawed at the floor, grasping for anything. They kicked and howled but nothing moved him, and no one did anything. No one helped as he dragged Kris thrashing and fighting to a room on the top floor of the palace. No one did anything as Kris cried and pleaded for help behind that locked door.
Flowery gently pushed Kris inside.
"I'm sorry."
The bedroom was magnificent.
It was larger than Kris's entire house.
But it wasn't theirs. Kris’s room had empty shelves filled with disappointment and self-hate. This one had images of people Kris didn't love, and gifts Kris didn't want. Kris’s room had a too small twin bed that had been there since they were five. This room had a large canopy bed with silken sheets. Kris’s room had been shared with their brother.
They had never felt so alone surrounded by love.
