7 Universes of Love

Frisk Potter and the surprises of Christmas

     The Dreemurrs of New Home were a perfectly normal family, thank you very much. As much as the two of the most powerful goat monsters in the wizarding world, with 3 feisty, very difficult to manage sons could be called normal. They had a small, brick house with a purple tint to it, right in the middle of nowhere. Its roof was more straw than tiles and seemed in need of a repair constantly while the small chimney would emit a thin, continuous strand of smoke as it was the end of a chilling December. All the green, beautiful grass with small ponds at the bottom of mount Ebbot has now withered and frozen, while being covered by a tick, sparkly blanket of snow.

Except a dim, very warm light coming from the small, wooden windows of the cozy hut, a few pleased laughters and giggles could be heard from the inside as well.

"Paaaaps, give it back!!!" a very annoyed exclamation rang through the small living room while a 17 year old, goat boy was running after his youngest, skeleton brother, chasing him all over the house while his pointy horns would sometimes poke at the decorations around, hence the height of the young goat monster would soon surpass even his father's.

Most of the times he had to hunch down while entering their small home, scratching at his fluffy ear, looking around with two very careless, bright green eyes, yet always widening his smile at the sight of his most loving goat mother, probably about to stuff some more pie into his mouth.

The same tall, well built teen was struggling to catch his younger, 13 year old brother, while wearing some comfy looking, straight pants and a bright green sweater with one yellow stripe in the middle and a big A standing out on the chest, probably knitted with great love and care by a certain goat mother.

The feisty, smaller skeleton, running away swiftly, dodging the old couch on the way, was holding a hawthorn wand in mid air, teasing his older brother, wearing his designated, orange pullover with the letter P in the middle.

The goat lady, only watched briefly as she was busy to the bone with preparing the grand, Christmas meal, even magic was not helping enough with how many chores she had to deal with. Despite the rather strict, useless nag she yelled out at her youngest, hyperactive son, she couldn't help but smile joyfully at the playful atmosphere the two dorks were creating in the entire home.

"It's been a while since the two played around like this, hasn't it, fluffybuns?" she asked her husband with a rather amused, soft voice while mixing up some of the cinnamon-butterscotch filling for her most craved pie.

The rather tired looking, big goat monster had to shift his gaze from the newspapers with funny, moving pictures in it, just to fix it onto the back of his lovely wife for a brief moment. She didn't see, but his blonde, rich beard moved a little, especially because a happy smile was induced by her joyful words.

"Indeed, my dear." is all he let out with a very deep, slightly hoarse voice.

Asgore Dreemurr was not much for a talk after long, hardworking days at the Ministry of Magic, especially when issues hit the inter-racial department he was the leader of. Being the eve of Christmas unfortunately didn't exempt him from the duties, therefore all he did when arriving home was finally sit at the dining table, indulge into the newspapers with a cup of golden flower tea, while keeping his wife company, somewhat.

Toriel, on the other hand, never minded the silence of her husband, mainly because she knew he worked day and night to sustain their living and not having adopted two boneheads would've probably eased his burden, but none of them ever regretted the deed for one second.

Sans and Papyrus were two skeleton brothers orphaned at the mere age of 3 years and 2 months respectively. Because Asgore and their late father, W.D. Gaster were almost like brothers, the newly wed couple couldn't help but want to adopt the two, besides, their small, 4 year old son could've used some company.