Roses are Red, Gunpowder is Gray (Undertale Fanfic)

The Wrong Skeleton

Inspired by Falling by Battlemaiden13 on AO3

You were hurt, still thrashing against your captor, but the dull thumping of your fists only served to shoot pain up your arm. Nics and cuts from being tossed into a trunk stained the taffeta of your blush ballgown, before you were jerked out with a snap from your wrist. There was only one thing left that you could try, knowing it wouldn't help you get away, but not caring. You just wanted to do something.

"Son of a- the bitch just fucking bit me!" The big man yelled, cracking you in the ribs hard, but you bit down harder. "Open one of the fucking cages, for fucks sake!"

"None of these are empty!" Another one replied.

"I don't care, just open one!" The first one snapped before you were thrown down, you head smacking hard concrete before a boot connected with your ribs, kicking you on into the room. (A small cage really, not even a room.)

The head injury made the world blur slightly. Muffled voices talking around you.

"Blue, leave her alone, that's a human." A voice hissed from your right as you curled in on yourself.

"BUT SHE'S HURT." Another voice said from above you, "HER HEAD IS BLEEDING."

You glanced up at the person kneeling over you and met the biggest brightest blue eyes you had ever seen. Though 'eyes' was probably inaccurate, they were glowing lights floating in black sockets, the bone above those sockets was scrunched up in concern.

Your eyes snapped open, light streamed through pale gossamer curtains. You weren't sure what had woken you up at first until you heard the knocking,

"Madam, your father has requested your presence downstairs." Joffrey's raspy voice called through the door.

"I'll be right down." You called back, getting out of bed instantly. No time to be groggy when you had to get dressed one handed. Your closet consisted of a lot of polished professional pieces or darling dresses. There weren't a lot of things that prioritized ease.

You would be changing that the next time you were allowed out of the house. There was really just one you could reach easily, a flowing green summer dress with a blue belt that met at the back in a large, perfectly symmetrical bow. At least it was perfectly symmetrical when you were done with it.

Your hair styled one handed still had not a single strand out of place. White flats that you could slide on without having to bend down. Then you slid your sling over your cast, straightened your back, held your head high and walked out of your bedroom.

"I haven't seen that dress in awhile, young miss." Your butler said, smiling down softly at you. You cringed as he fell in step beside you.

"Joffrey, we've talked about this. I'm not a little kid anymore." Hadn't been for a long time, since it had been your twentieth birthday the night you met Blue.

Your father had canceled your debutante party after the incident. Not like you were complaining, it was already two years late, and you hated those big extravagant parties. You had never told your father that you hated them, but you never told him that you hated a lot of things.

"Of course ma'am." Joffrey agreed easily, smiling and offering you a hand down the winding flights of stairs, but you waved him off. Your injured arm was on your non-dominant side, so you could still feign delicacy by letting your fingertips rest on the banister as you walked down the first flight.

Your show stopped halfway down the stairs when you saw your father, standing in the foyer with six skeletons. All dressed in simple white button ups and slacks that they would be given at the slave auctions. One of them had the biggest brightest blue eyes you had ever seen.