Imma name this shit later

proloque

||reader just spawned||

Ah. Death.

You don't really remember it.

You're not sure if you're glad or not.

Pieces of your past life fly through your mind, and you desperately try to latch onto them, knowing that if you don't they will dissapear.

You had a phone addiction. Who didn't these days, honestly.

Lots of fanfics. Mainly undertale.

The faces of your family and friends fly by into oblivion as you desperately cling onto headcanons, theories, memes and occasional edits. They were your reason to live after all. The somewhat steady updating schledule of your favorite autors and your practical NEED to know how the plot will advance keeping you from saying "screw it" and finding out how afterlife looks yourself.

Welp.

Grieving the unability to finish reading the fanfics, you can now say that afterlife looks like.... It's literally just black.

Or maybe it's your eyes being closed.

Okay, you DO have eyes in the afterlife then.

You think.

You try to open them. Cracking one eye open, you decide it isn't worth it and close it right after.

Feels like trying to wake up for school at 5:30 after going to sleep at 4:13. After pulling an allnighter the day before.

...Let's just say ya fucken sleepy and leave it at that.

You can surely say you have eyes tho. Or at least something that works similarly. Your eyes are in your head and you hope for the deluxe pack of having a whole body. You can't help but think that your luck is gonna fuck with you with the WHOLE body thing.

You try to move.

It feels weird and heavy, like trying to run in waist high water.

Now that you're more focused on your physical body a little more, you feel like you're sinking, bubbles rushing around you, uncomfortably tickling your body, somehow even... inside your fucken ribcage?!????

Huhhhh???!??!?!

Dafuq!??!?

You find it somehow familiar, despite being sure you've never felt like this before.

You hear a series of some weird-ass sounds that could be maybe words of some kinda made up language, like the ones you would make with your friend so the teacher can't read it. However, as much as even the sounds are familiar, hell, the whole situation somehow is, you don't understand them. You could probably learn it tho.

Anything is possible when you're bored and the second choice is trying to remember the fuck a past simple is.

You open you eyes again, squinting, the simple action taking a little more effort than you're willing to admit and look at the source of these sounds.

Still sinking in the slowly draining liguid, the last thought in your head is 'Holy shit, it's fucking Gaster.'