Categories > Games > Undertale > I am Made of Love, Not LOVE (Chara x Sans)
Masochist, and yet Another Encounter
0 reviewsWarning: some triggering topics such as self-harm.
0Unrated
I find myself in my room once more, plucking at an out-of-tune guitar. “Didn’t I just tune this???” Like, literally fifteen minutes ago. I groan and do the process again. After that bullshit, I strum and practice. This isn’t even for school. Yes, I’d put Guitar as one of my extracurriculars, but it was one of those individual, one-on-one lessons where you could have as much experience as you wanted. Apparently, not many people signed up for it. Seeing my level, the instructor gave me more work than I’d bargained for. Oh, well, I think.
I hum the note to make sure I keep in time, and then I’m off.
“You have a beautiful voice.”
I look at the door frame, and the tall, gorgeous girl stands there. I fall off my bed in surprise, but fortunately manage to keep the guitar safe and sound. As I stand and check the instrument for dents, I say, “Yeah, I’m sure I do… What are you doing here? Let me guess — Frisk invited you to our humble abode?” I chuckle.
“Humble’s kind of a stretch, isn’t it?”
“Tch. We wanted a house that could fit the entire Kingdom. Frisk said it would, ‘Keep us close.’ I, however, am not one for mere sentiment. We need to spread out, in a multiple-house arrangement. If we’re attacked by those who still hate our kind, We will be cornered in rooms with few exits. That little brat is going to get us killed, and that’s probably her plan.” My face contorts in utter abhorrence.
The girl looks perplexed, and I smile warmly. “I don’t think I ever got your name, Miss.”
“Nahla, and you?”
“I can assume you’ve heard it, but my name is Chara Dreemurr, princess of Monsters. Well, I can also assume I no longer hold that title.” I give a sad smile this time, and then continue on with my practice. “Go find Frisk and hang out with her, Nahla, or the others will be suspicious.”
“Ah, okay.” She lingers in the doorway for a second, before turning and going to join her friends.
I have no more visitors that day.
So I set out to the store, slipping out under anyone’s surveillance. The weapons store… When I reach there, I buy a p0ck3t kn1f3 and put it in a coat pocket. If someone were to find this, I know what they’d think, but this is not for anyone but myself. After leaving, I walk home with the object in hand as I make red Xes on each pale white knuckle. The adrenaline rush…
I drop the knife as the bewildering thoughts take over. What is the feeling?
I’m not a masochist. But the feelings… And well, all my life the hurt I’ve felt was for the sake of others. I quickly scramble to grab the knife and slip it back where it belongs. I need to think about something else, anything else.
Maybe Nahla doesn’t think I hurt them. Sans doesn’t. It’s okay to have friends on your side, isn’t it?
Yeah, but… I still hurt them in my own, unique way. It’s the last thing I need, friends. Sans still gives me those looks, anyway. Those looks of hatred.
And that’s fine.
I find myself running home.
I sneak back in through the back door, and I am easily confronted by a skeleton. Sans. Ironically enough.
“Whaddya want, comedian?…”
“What are you doing, bud?”
“I’m not your ‘bud,’ Sans.” I walk past him, but he grabs my wrist. “Let me go,” I mutter, wriggling out of his grasp. I have to admit, it’s a struggle to do so, his vice-like grip digging into my flesh. He’s basically a suit of armor compared to me. “Let me go, I said.”
But he whirls me around, and finds the knife, apparently omniscient in theory. “Chara, I thought you were…”
I sigh. “Give it back, dude.”
His eyes trail down to where he holds my wrist, seeing the blood. I manage to wrench away, grabbing the knife and gracefully getting out of there, to my room. He, unfortunately follows, and even manages to get partway my room with me before I can shut the door on him. I shut it on his left foot. He grimaces, but doesn’t scream.
“Yes, yes, you’ve had worse pain. Get out.”
“No, kid, I want to t-talk.” He grunts, but shoves himself past the door.
“This is a violation of privacy.” I cross my arms.
“I d-don’t care.” He winces at the pain of his foot, and I find myself crouching down to examine it.
“I-I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”
“It’s fine, kid. I wanted to talk.”
“No, let’s get some ice for this first. Honestly, Sans, I’m not up for a conversation. I want to be left alone.” I stand, then wrap his left arm around my shoulder so we can get to the kitchen, where ice cubes are at hand. I help him there, and he hops on one foot, grunting at each painful step. I hold concern in my eyes.
I set him down on a kitchen chair, then open the freezer. Popping the cubes out and onto the counter, I find the plastic ziplocs in a cabinet. I shove the ice cubes into one and seal it tight, then walk over to Sans and kneel as I apply the ice, using some pressure as well. He sucks in a large breath, and I look up into his eye sockets. “I’m sorry, again. Does it hurt that much?” I ask, curiosity shining in my eyes, even in the dimly lit kitchen.
“S’not that bad,” he murmurs, which makes me raise a skeptical brow. But I don’t press.
“Do skeletons bruise???” My genuinely quizzical stare makes him laugh. “What? It’s a valid concern. Besides, if you sprained or broke something, people would find out. I’d have no choice but to explain the truth.”
“Go ahead. I want people to know whose side I’m on, now.” He reaches out and places a skeletal hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes. I swallow.
“Sans… There are no ‘sides.’ Frisk will always win. It’s guaranteed. She’s above consequences. I found that out a long time ago.”
“I’m serious, Chara. I want to stand by your side.”
“B-But-!”
He silences me with something entirely unexpected. And at first, I don’t have a clue to what that is.
Because his teeth meld to my lips, and since he’s a skeleton, it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s doing.
But I soon realize. He’s kissing me. Me! What the hell does he think he’s doing?! He towers over me, and my knees shake from his weight. My eyes are wide open, frantic to get him away but terrified of him toppling onto me and deepening something that doesn’t need to be deepened. I don’t need this type of love right now. I pull my lips away, shutting my eyes to keep tears from spilling out. “S-ans…” Even I can tell my voice is unstable. “D-Don’t… Please…”
And he realizes his mistake. “Sorry. I just — I want you to know I want to be your friend.”
He clearly wants more than that, but I don’t say some retort. “I don’t deserve your friendship, Sans.”
“Why do you think that, Chara?!?!”
“Don’t. Ask.” My red eyes hold a seriousness that cannot be shaken.
But he tries anyway.
“Stubborn to a tee, eh, comedian?” I tilt my head and grin. I’m still kneeling at his side, so I stand. “You might hate me if I tell you. Not that I care, but I know your methods of exacting revenge, precise and painful.”
“How would you… know that?”
I frown, taking myself back.
“The grin on your face spreads like wildfire. Is this really what you want? He loves you, so, so much, Frisk… But you don’t listen. And when the time comes that he makes the killing blow., you transition the control of your body to me. And I have the choices. I try to dodge his attacks, and when I mess it up, the hurt is profoundly overwhelming…
“And you do it again. And again. And again.
“At one point, you even spare Sans, just to see what would happen.
“Because you can, you have to.
“The body goes to me, once more, as a precaution. Since you are such a coward… I have to wear your pain.
“I scream, a loud, broken sound that resonates throughout this accursed hall, tossing the knife away so hard, it pings when it sticks into a white column. And then I crumple to the ground, sobbing my fears, my pain, my hatred for you. I finally stand, rushing to his arms. But I jump back, as I know your plan. But you force me onto him, and this attack is the worst one yet. No escape, locked tightly in a warm embrace as the pain ripples through my body. He sobs in my ear, clearly upset to hurt you in this way. He holds your dy1ng body until all the pain dissipates, and I fade into oblivion.”
I relay this back to him, in my own words.
His eyes soft, he places his hand on mine, intertwining his phalanx with my fingers. I pull away.
“Sans. You have to promise me you’ll… You won’t try to get close to me.”
“Everyone knows my history with promises, kid.” He winks, and I toss my hands up in exasperation. “Look, I’m not giving up until you realize I want to be friends with you and that you deserve that.”
“Frankly, I don’t. Sans, I killed you. I killed my brother. Even in his emotionless state, it was still him. And then, out of petty revenge, I killed Frisk. That I don’t regret, honestly. But I still hurt people. My brother, my best friend… I care so much about him. He showed his vulnerabilities, his fears, his true self, in those last moments. And even as he cried and begged for his life, I…” I begin to sob. “And you… I mean, I’d never put that much thought into
you, but you’re a lot like me. You’d die for Papyrus. Except you were able to push past your sorrows and you did something. Focused on keeping Frisk in that hall. Away from Asgore, and those who were hiding. Or maybe you just wanted revenge, like I did. But either way, you made
some better choices. And I’d let a lot happen before I was able to do something about it. And when I had the opportunity, I decided to hurt you. Not Reset, or run away, or try to spare you.” I sob uncontrollably now, unable to hold back my tears.
He takes me into his arms. “You were going through some tough times, Chara. You said it yourself, you were driven to the brink of insanity. No matter what you did, you did it because of Frisk’s evil intentions. And I forgive you for it.”
I feel my shoulders shake, and I contemplate pushing him away. But I finally give in, still crying my heart out. He’s so persistent. “I don’t want this… And that’s really scary. But your hugs… are warm. And that’s really scary too…” I murmur this into his clavicles, wrapping my arms around him.
“S’probably ‘cause of my hoodie.” He laughs.
“Sans! This is no time for jokes!” But I can’t help it; I’m laughing too. “I want your friendship too. But Frisk will find a way to ruin it… Are you prepared for her underhanded plans?” I let him go, taking this opportunity to look him dead in the eye.
“Yes,” he says, wholeheartedly.
And I believe him. And my heart soars. Why is that, I wonder?
I hum the note to make sure I keep in time, and then I’m off.
“You have a beautiful voice.”
I look at the door frame, and the tall, gorgeous girl stands there. I fall off my bed in surprise, but fortunately manage to keep the guitar safe and sound. As I stand and check the instrument for dents, I say, “Yeah, I’m sure I do… What are you doing here? Let me guess — Frisk invited you to our humble abode?” I chuckle.
“Humble’s kind of a stretch, isn’t it?”
“Tch. We wanted a house that could fit the entire Kingdom. Frisk said it would, ‘Keep us close.’ I, however, am not one for mere sentiment. We need to spread out, in a multiple-house arrangement. If we’re attacked by those who still hate our kind, We will be cornered in rooms with few exits. That little brat is going to get us killed, and that’s probably her plan.” My face contorts in utter abhorrence.
The girl looks perplexed, and I smile warmly. “I don’t think I ever got your name, Miss.”
“Nahla, and you?”
“I can assume you’ve heard it, but my name is Chara Dreemurr, princess of Monsters. Well, I can also assume I no longer hold that title.” I give a sad smile this time, and then continue on with my practice. “Go find Frisk and hang out with her, Nahla, or the others will be suspicious.”
“Ah, okay.” She lingers in the doorway for a second, before turning and going to join her friends.
I have no more visitors that day.
So I set out to the store, slipping out under anyone’s surveillance. The weapons store… When I reach there, I buy a p0ck3t kn1f3 and put it in a coat pocket. If someone were to find this, I know what they’d think, but this is not for anyone but myself. After leaving, I walk home with the object in hand as I make red Xes on each pale white knuckle. The adrenaline rush…
I drop the knife as the bewildering thoughts take over. What is the feeling?
I’m not a masochist. But the feelings… And well, all my life the hurt I’ve felt was for the sake of others. I quickly scramble to grab the knife and slip it back where it belongs. I need to think about something else, anything else.
Maybe Nahla doesn’t think I hurt them. Sans doesn’t. It’s okay to have friends on your side, isn’t it?
Yeah, but… I still hurt them in my own, unique way. It’s the last thing I need, friends. Sans still gives me those looks, anyway. Those looks of hatred.
And that’s fine.
I find myself running home.
I sneak back in through the back door, and I am easily confronted by a skeleton. Sans. Ironically enough.
“Whaddya want, comedian?…”
“What are you doing, bud?”
“I’m not your ‘bud,’ Sans.” I walk past him, but he grabs my wrist. “Let me go,” I mutter, wriggling out of his grasp. I have to admit, it’s a struggle to do so, his vice-like grip digging into my flesh. He’s basically a suit of armor compared to me. “Let me go, I said.”
But he whirls me around, and finds the knife, apparently omniscient in theory. “Chara, I thought you were…”
I sigh. “Give it back, dude.”
His eyes trail down to where he holds my wrist, seeing the blood. I manage to wrench away, grabbing the knife and gracefully getting out of there, to my room. He, unfortunately follows, and even manages to get partway my room with me before I can shut the door on him. I shut it on his left foot. He grimaces, but doesn’t scream.
“Yes, yes, you’ve had worse pain. Get out.”
“No, kid, I want to t-talk.” He grunts, but shoves himself past the door.
“This is a violation of privacy.” I cross my arms.
“I d-don’t care.” He winces at the pain of his foot, and I find myself crouching down to examine it.
“I-I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”
“It’s fine, kid. I wanted to talk.”
“No, let’s get some ice for this first. Honestly, Sans, I’m not up for a conversation. I want to be left alone.” I stand, then wrap his left arm around my shoulder so we can get to the kitchen, where ice cubes are at hand. I help him there, and he hops on one foot, grunting at each painful step. I hold concern in my eyes.
I set him down on a kitchen chair, then open the freezer. Popping the cubes out and onto the counter, I find the plastic ziplocs in a cabinet. I shove the ice cubes into one and seal it tight, then walk over to Sans and kneel as I apply the ice, using some pressure as well. He sucks in a large breath, and I look up into his eye sockets. “I’m sorry, again. Does it hurt that much?” I ask, curiosity shining in my eyes, even in the dimly lit kitchen.
“S’not that bad,” he murmurs, which makes me raise a skeptical brow. But I don’t press.
“Do skeletons bruise???” My genuinely quizzical stare makes him laugh. “What? It’s a valid concern. Besides, if you sprained or broke something, people would find out. I’d have no choice but to explain the truth.”
“Go ahead. I want people to know whose side I’m on, now.” He reaches out and places a skeletal hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes. I swallow.
“Sans… There are no ‘sides.’ Frisk will always win. It’s guaranteed. She’s above consequences. I found that out a long time ago.”
“I’m serious, Chara. I want to stand by your side.”
“B-But-!”
He silences me with something entirely unexpected. And at first, I don’t have a clue to what that is.
Because his teeth meld to my lips, and since he’s a skeleton, it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s doing.
But I soon realize. He’s kissing me. Me! What the hell does he think he’s doing?! He towers over me, and my knees shake from his weight. My eyes are wide open, frantic to get him away but terrified of him toppling onto me and deepening something that doesn’t need to be deepened. I don’t need this type of love right now. I pull my lips away, shutting my eyes to keep tears from spilling out. “S-ans…” Even I can tell my voice is unstable. “D-Don’t… Please…”
And he realizes his mistake. “Sorry. I just — I want you to know I want to be your friend.”
He clearly wants more than that, but I don’t say some retort. “I don’t deserve your friendship, Sans.”
“Why do you think that, Chara?!?!”
“Don’t. Ask.” My red eyes hold a seriousness that cannot be shaken.
But he tries anyway.
“Stubborn to a tee, eh, comedian?” I tilt my head and grin. I’m still kneeling at his side, so I stand. “You might hate me if I tell you. Not that I care, but I know your methods of exacting revenge, precise and painful.”
“How would you… know that?”
I frown, taking myself back.
“The grin on your face spreads like wildfire. Is this really what you want? He loves you, so, so much, Frisk… But you don’t listen. And when the time comes that he makes the killing blow., you transition the control of your body to me. And I have the choices. I try to dodge his attacks, and when I mess it up, the hurt is profoundly overwhelming…
“And you do it again. And again. And again.
“At one point, you even spare Sans, just to see what would happen.
“Because you can, you have to.
“The body goes to me, once more, as a precaution. Since you are such a coward… I have to wear your pain.
“I scream, a loud, broken sound that resonates throughout this accursed hall, tossing the knife away so hard, it pings when it sticks into a white column. And then I crumple to the ground, sobbing my fears, my pain, my hatred for you. I finally stand, rushing to his arms. But I jump back, as I know your plan. But you force me onto him, and this attack is the worst one yet. No escape, locked tightly in a warm embrace as the pain ripples through my body. He sobs in my ear, clearly upset to hurt you in this way. He holds your dy1ng body until all the pain dissipates, and I fade into oblivion.”
I relay this back to him, in my own words.
His eyes soft, he places his hand on mine, intertwining his phalanx with my fingers. I pull away.
“Sans. You have to promise me you’ll… You won’t try to get close to me.”
“Everyone knows my history with promises, kid.” He winks, and I toss my hands up in exasperation. “Look, I’m not giving up until you realize I want to be friends with you and that you deserve that.”
“Frankly, I don’t. Sans, I killed you. I killed my brother. Even in his emotionless state, it was still him. And then, out of petty revenge, I killed Frisk. That I don’t regret, honestly. But I still hurt people. My brother, my best friend… I care so much about him. He showed his vulnerabilities, his fears, his true self, in those last moments. And even as he cried and begged for his life, I…” I begin to sob. “And you… I mean, I’d never put that much thought into
you, but you’re a lot like me. You’d die for Papyrus. Except you were able to push past your sorrows and you did something. Focused on keeping Frisk in that hall. Away from Asgore, and those who were hiding. Or maybe you just wanted revenge, like I did. But either way, you made
some better choices. And I’d let a lot happen before I was able to do something about it. And when I had the opportunity, I decided to hurt you. Not Reset, or run away, or try to spare you.” I sob uncontrollably now, unable to hold back my tears.
He takes me into his arms. “You were going through some tough times, Chara. You said it yourself, you were driven to the brink of insanity. No matter what you did, you did it because of Frisk’s evil intentions. And I forgive you for it.”
I feel my shoulders shake, and I contemplate pushing him away. But I finally give in, still crying my heart out. He’s so persistent. “I don’t want this… And that’s really scary. But your hugs… are warm. And that’s really scary too…” I murmur this into his clavicles, wrapping my arms around him.
“S’probably ‘cause of my hoodie.” He laughs.
“Sans! This is no time for jokes!” But I can’t help it; I’m laughing too. “I want your friendship too. But Frisk will find a way to ruin it… Are you prepared for her underhanded plans?” I let him go, taking this opportunity to look him dead in the eye.
“Yes,” he says, wholeheartedly.
And I believe him. And my heart soars. Why is that, I wonder?
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