Horrible Terrors (UndertalexReader)

Lost Places Found

Sans woke up in a cold sweat, excess magic dripping down his skull. For a moment, he panicked, and a deep, welling sadness and hopelessness set in as he looked around his room.

He was back again, back at the beginning. He shouldn't have let himself be convinced that it would be different this time. He shouldn't have taken them on their word. It wouldn't be the first time the kid betrayed his trust.

As his thoughts began to spiral, a gentle chime cut through the vortex of negativity that plagued him. Snapping his head up, just now realizing he had let it drop to his hands, Sans turned toward his bedside table.

'Wait, since when have I had a table next to my bed?' his brow bones scrunched slightly in confusion. It took a moment for him to focus on the details of his room and realize that a lot was different. For one, his bed wasn't just a lumpy, slightly moldy mattress tossed into the corner of his room. It was instead a relatively comfortable one on top of a boxspring and lifted bedframe. He still had his self-sustaining trash-nado at the foot of the bed, the perfect spot for tossing and kicking trash and used socks without getting up.

Clearing his head and willing his eye lights to focus more, he realized that he had a lot more furniture in his room, nice furniture that he definitely wouldn't have been able to find at the dump.

'this isn't right. What's going on?'

Pinching his nasal bridge in frustration, Sans focused on the air around him. Specifically the concentration of magic around him. If he were back in the Underground, it would be tingling at his exposed bones. Like the air was charged with buzzing energy.

Sans knew that sometimes, especially after an awful dream, he could have trouble remembering where and when he was. A side effect of the constant resets and time loops, he couldn't trust his eyes, and he couldn't trust his mind, so he let himself lean on his more instinctual senses. If he were really back under that mountain, he would feel it, but if he was on the surface, he should feel...

Sans visibly relaxed as the warm, soothing brush of the surface's spread of magic registered on his bones.

When the barrier broke, it released the dangerously concentrated levels of magic created by the generations of trapped monsters into the world. The surface already had remnants of magic from mages long passed, but with this sudden influx in magical energy, the earth shook with the introduction of such potent magical power. It alerted everyone of the presence of monsters emerging from Mt. Ebott. Still, it had also guarded his people against the drastic military action ordered during the first few days of their ascent to the surface. The air around Ebott buzzed with magic too dense for a regular human to handle without passing out in a few minutes. It held back to tensions of war and allowed Frisk to act as their ambassador and smooth things over with the surface's "world leaders."

As spiking tensions smoothed to understanding and diplomacy, so did the unbalanced and unstable magic levels. With no one's prompting but its own, the buzzing, electrifying air of magic the monsters were used to dissipate into a gentle sheet of warmth.

Sans lets out a sigh of relief as that familiar warm registers in his mind. He honestly needed to get a hold of his emotions. His HOPE almost dropped again.

Over the past year of assimilating into the surface and Frisk promising and reminding him that they had no plans on resetting again, Sans had started feeling hopeful. He had been complacent for too long, he had let his little brother take on too much for too long, he had given up, but no longer.

Getting up and out of bed, Sans slipped on some comfortable sweat pants, a plain t-shirt, and his favorite blue hoodie. Sure he could have gotten something better from one of the monster-friendly stores, but Paps had found this hoodie for him years ago. It held too much sentimental value just to replace.