Actions

Work Header

The Dangers Of Being A Criminal

Summary:

This is an alternate version of Chara Item Asylum. One where her first adventure was to the world of Undertale, and in this world she never returns to the Item Asylum. If you’ve read the inspiration work, you know what’s to come eventually

Notes:

  • Inspired by [Restricted Work] by (Log in to access.)

Work Text:

Never did I think I’d leave my old home so soon. I always figured I’d go back, just leaving here and there to have some fun outside. But now I’ve found a real home. A home with people who love me and helped me change, a world where my actions matter and can change the very lives surrounding me. Well, I’ve somewhat changed and I only have so much impact. But still! This world is amazing, and I’m here for the long run.

“Dinner is ready, my child!”, the gentle voice of Toriel calls from the floor below. She was quite a lovely mother. The tall goat lady rang some bells in my memory every time I looked at her, and I seemed to do the same for her. Such old and foggy bells. I swear I knew her. But from wh- “HEY IDIOT, IF YOU DON’T COME DOWN HERE I’M GOING TO EAT YOUR PANCAKES!”, a shrill little voice shouts from downstairs. I can hear Toriel immediately chastising the voice, who complains about said chastising.

It was good to be with my family.

“I’ll be down in just a second! Mom, make sure he doesn’t eat my pancakes!” I shout as I begin to get up from my desk. I had been working on some work that I had been given for about an hour now. Even though I was practically an adult, Toriel had taken it upon herself to school me at home to make up for the lack of education. I don’t like it, I have the skills to survive already. But, she’s my mother. And something in me hates disobeying her.

After neatly stuffing away the papers and putting my hair up into a lazy ponytail, I make my way downstairs and to the dining room. I am met with the sight of Toriel making more pancakes as the source of the shrill voice, Flowey, reaches for my pancakes. “MOM! FLOWEY IS TRYING TO STEAL MY FOOD!” I shout as I run over to save my pancakes while Flowey tries to stuff some in his mouth. Toriel, with her back still to us, tells Flowey not to eat my food while unaware that I’m practically wrestling him to keep my pancakes out of his mouth. We struggle for a few minutes, grabbing and pulling and biting each other as we try to get control of my food.

The moment Toriel begins to turn to us, we immediately act like nothing was happening. We give her a big smile and she smiles back, before looking at my hair and slightly frowning. “My child, surely you can do better than that?”, she says as she gestures to my messy hair. I wave her off a bit as I say, “I was in a hurry. Can’t have Flowey stealing my food, Yknow?” Toriel huffs as she begins to approach me. “Well, my child, now that you have time we can put your hair up neatly”, she states as she reaches to undo my current ponytail. I step away a bit, slightly covering my hair with my arms. “It’s fine, mom. It was just to get it out-“, I mutter before cutting myself off as I notice the pancakes on the stove starting to burn. “Mom, foods gonna turn to charcoal” I bluntly state, which causes her to gasp and quickly dash back to the stove to save that batch of pancakes.

While Toriel is playing pancake savior, I flick one of Flowey’s petals. He lets out a little “ow!”, before starting to complain. This earns him a face flick, which gets him to rub his face with his vines while senselessly complaining to no one in particular. I chuckle at his simple suffering while I go to sit down so I can finally eat. Despite my earlier protests, I redo my ponytail to the best of my ability, letting out a content sigh as I finish. I then begin to stuff pancakes in my mouth, chowing down rather sloppily. Mom knows my eating habits by this point, so she made it a point to supply extra food and napkins at my seat.

It takes me 5 minutes to get through 40 pancakes. Each napkin has been used up, and my plate is practically shining like it just got off the production line. Flowey was still eating his pancake, side eyeing me like I was a corpse that just flipped him off. I carefully get up and take my plate to the sink before grabbing the napkins I used and tossing them in the trash bin. I then begin to head back upstairs, looking back for a moment at Flowey and Toriel. “Shout for me when it’s time to go, please!” I say as I walk out of their view. Both of them agree and acknowledge, but Flowey adds a quiet “bitch” at the end of his. Toriel hears it, and I get to listen to her chew him out as I return to my room to finish up that homework.

I hate math. And English. I speak the heckin language, why do I need to learn about it. And what the hell is a “connotation”? Ugh, I don’t need any of this, but doing it will make mom happy. The things I do for love….

“It’s the feeling of the word, not the definition. Idiot.”

I slightly jump at the shrill voice chastising me right in my ear. How did I not notice Flowey get in here? How did I not feel him climb on me.

“Shut up, crybaby” I snap as I flick him again. He gives an “ow” and bites my shoulder as hard as his big floral face can. I just flick him on the nonexistent nose, which gets him to let go to deal with the pain. He stretches out to be infront of my face, holding back some tears. I have to bite my tongue to not laugh at the face he’s making. “Stop flicking me! That hurts!” He whines as he rubs his face with a vine. I can’t help but let out the laugh I was holding. “Of course it does! That’s the point! Now stop crying you crybaby, you obviously came here for a reason if you bothered to try to help me”

He sighs and stops rubbing his face, the pain having subsided enough to let him stop. “You promised to help me get some stuff after walking Frisk home, remember?” I rub my head slowly, generally remembering that promise. “Oh yeahhhh”, I mumble, “the whole “free of charge shopping spree” thing, right?” He scoffs. “Obviously, you idiot. Geez, I’m starting to think your amnesia is getting worse.”

I flick him for that.

After he stops aimlessly complaining and biting, I toss him a question. “Right, since that’s on the calendar again, what time is it?” He looks at the clock on the wall behind me. “2:45.” I practically shoot out of my seat, realizing I have a grand total of 15 minutes to get to Frisk’s school, and that time was already ticking down. Normally the trip was almost half an hour on foot, and I would need to cut it down by more than half.

“Screw finishing this now, you’re helping me do it when we get back!” I half shout as I get up, grabbing Flowey and tossing him on my head to get him out of the way. As I sling on my backpack and put on my round framed glasses (which were a lovely shade of purple), Flowey wraps a vine around the base of my ponytail as his own sort of hairtie. He does it a little too tight just for the pain reaction I inevitably give. I then dash out of my room and practically fly down the stairs, giving a quick “gottagomomloveyoubyeeeeee” as I leave through the front door.

It’s a race against the clock as I power down the sidewalk toward the school. I put on my old runner gloves, still as effective as ever. I power forward, not even breaking a sweat. Flowey had managed to slip into my backpack before we got out of the house, and manages to snatch a wallet or two as we pass so many people.

10 minutes left.

I haven’t been nearly as active as I had been back before I wound up in this world, so I was starting to get worn down. Flowey looks around as we run, trying to steal more stuff but failing due to the speed. He quickly gives up, stuffing himself fully into my backpack and quietly stewing in his likely grumpy thoughts.

5 minutes left.

The school is in sight now. Was it closer than i remember? Weird, I come here every weekday to walk Frisk home but now it seems way closer. Maybe Flowey is right about my amnesia.

DING!

DING!

DING!

The obnoxiously loud school bells that I can hear from home ring out, practically attempting to wake up the very earth itself. I lean against the pickup area wall as I wait for Frisk, slightly panting. Flowey pops his petaled head out of my backpack and looks around. “Ew, children” he says, and I nod in agreement. Such tiny creatures, oblivious and stupid. I’d never hurt them, not in a million years. Doesn’t mean I like them, though.

Flowey eventually pokes my head and points toward Frisk, who is walking with a cheery child wearing a cowboy hat. They feel familiar, but I certainly didn’t recognize the child. Oh well. They hug and part ways before Frisk spots me and runs over. They’re always so cheery, and they seemed especially cheery today. I kneel down and give them their daily hug before they get me to pick them up and carry them. I know better than to ask them questions, as I’m not really going to get a response unless it’s a yes or no question. So, I don’t bring up the kid they were hanging out with.

The walk to their home is rather quiet, as always. Our rhythmic steps, the slow swaying of the trees in the warm breeze, the warmth of Frisk’s small hand in mine, Flowey’s death stares at anyone who looks at us even slightly wrong. Life is good. Man, I could really go fo-

“you alright kiddo? you seem positively rattled.”

I let out a small yelp and whip toward the sudden voice. Frisk, having gone through this many times before, had already let go of my hand as to not get swung like a nunchuck. Standing where what was previously behind me is sans, chuckling at my reaction. “Gee kiddo, you almost jumped out of your skin there” he jokes as I pull myself together. I can hear Flowey quietly saying something, calling sans a “Smiley Trashbag”.

“Whatever, sans. I’m fine, just zoned out” I say, pulling Frisk closer to me like we practiced for safety (it was Toriel’s idea, despite how tough the kid is). sans pulls out his comb and runs it along his head. “heard you had to run to make it today. tibia honest, I could never do something like that. what was the rush for?” He asks. I sigh and mumble “homework….”

He chuckles at this, and I am tempted to punch him for the umpteenth time.

After a bit of chatting, sans shortcuts us to his house. Well, it’s technically Papyrus’ house since he pays the majority of the bills. Sans teaches science at a local community college, acting as a surprisingly good effort to ease tensions about monsters being around humans. Even if it’s been a year, humans still aren’t very trusting. When are they ever, if we’re being honest?

“HELLO HUMANS!”

The rather booming and cheery voice opens the door. Papyrus poses, with Frisk mirroring him at my side. Flowey waves at him from my backpack and sans gives him a “sup bro”. Papyrus quickly studies us and leans in closer to me. “HUMAN! YOU SEEM A LITTLE TIRED! DID YOU NOT SLEEP WELL! IT WOULD EXPLAIN WHY YOU FORGOT YOUR BATTLE BELT!” He says as I try to not wince at the sheer volume right infront of me. He’s so cool, but so very loud.

Wait.

“Forgot my Battle Belt?”

I look down at my waist and realize I forgot the “Battle Belt” Papyrus had gotten me a while back for my knife. I had bought a holster belt a few months before, but he wanted me to have a “COOL AND AWESOME BELT FROM THE GREAT PAPYRUS HIMSELF!” I will admit, the black belt with red studs was really cool, but did he have to stitch his name right onto the knife holster?

“Ah heck it all! Ugh, I was in a rush to get to Frisk’s school and I forgot to get it on. Sorry Papyrus” I ashamedly apologize. He grins and pats my head while saying “NOT TO WORRY, HUMAN! YOU HAD A JOB TO DO AND BEING COOL WAS NOT GOING TO SAVE YOU TIME!”

I chuckle and nod in agreement, and we all go inside for the usual short hangout.

________________________________________

After leaving the Brothers house and heading home, Flowey and I prepare for our night out. After finishing my homework together, of course. Flowey goes out to scout the store while I get my stuff together. The once again empty backpack, my less cool holster belt, my lockpicking set, and of course, my Real Knife. The knife had become weaker thanks to the lack of use, but it can still do the job if things come down to it. I throw on an oversized hoodie and put on the cat mask (one of those medical face covering ones, not the Halloween kind) Frisk had gotten me for Christmas.

Flowey and I had been doing this same song and dance practically since the moment we settled down after leaving the underground. It used to be small things like pickpocketing and swiping snacks from Grillby’s (which he probably saw and let us get away with). Now, like we are doing tonight, we rob smaller shops blind. It’s usually of all their snacks and whatnot, but tonight we’re robbing an entire candy store. Personally, I’m excited to get my hands on all the chocolate.

Toriel had gone to bed earlier, so it’s rather easy for me to just slip out the front door without disturbing her. I begin to make my way toward the candy store as the streetlights begin to kick on rather blindingly. Barely anyone is out this late, besides those who are coming home from a long day of work. I always felt like I was being watched when we did these things, even when Flowey is with me. Speaking of which, where is he?

“Hurry up, idiot.”

I jump a bit at Floweys sudden presence in my hoodie. That’s the second time he’s snuck up on me today. It’s odd, as my senses have always been rather sharp. Have I stopped seeing him as a threat? It’s been a year since the whole fiasco in the Underground, so it would-

“Hellooooo! Earth to Idiot!”

Flowey was somehow snapping his vines like fingers, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Look at that, you CAN listen” he jeers at me as I wave him off. “Whatever. Did you figure out how we’re going to do things tonight?” I question as the store comes into view. He scoffs as he slips into my hood, hiding himself and wrapping a vine loosely around my neck as a pseudo-necklace. “Of course I did”, he says, “there’s a back door that’s been conveniently left just open enough to not lock properly!” I can feel the pride in his voice, as he likely is the one who wedge it open enough to do that.

Once we’re close enough I slip around the back and track down the door with a bit of help from Flowey. As promised, the door opens without problem. Becuase the door never closed properly, the alarm system never armed. Whether that was intentional on Flowey’s part, I couldn’t tell. He’d probably say it was even if it was a coincidence. I carefully pull out my knife, using its strange glow to guide me around the back area. Flowey slips out of my hood and begins to slip random sweets into my backpack, picking and choosing to his preference. I don’t mind as we enter the front of the store, and I begin to stuff all the chocolate I can fit alongside Flowey’s chosen sweets.

It becomes a sort of race, as Flowey and I begin to stuff whatever sweets we want. It soon devolved into just swiping everything, and in the end we have to stuff the last things in my hoodie pocket. We then slip out of the back again, closing the door fully which lets the alarm fully arm. Too little, too late. Flowey and I walk home, snacking on what we grabbed while chatting and bickering as siblings do.

Nothing could ruin this life.

Right?