Multiversal Star - Masculine Reader

Balls

Chapter Eleven 

M/n waves his hands around as he talks to the two skeletons, both of whom were munching on the cookies he had made. He leaned against the kitchen counter as he spoke, anything and everything that he could think of spilling from his lips. 

"So what's the deal?" M/n asked, looking at Cross and Epic. 

"Whaddya mean?" Epic looks at him, mouth full of cookies. 

"I dunno, just..  every one of you skeleton guys seem to act like we know each other almost instantly, and it's weird, because I've never met any of you before, I'm just-" 

"Yeah, that's the weird part about going through the multiverse."  Epic cuts M/n off, swallowing his cookie. "Messes with yer brain n stuff." 

"But like??? Why????" M/n huffed. "Before I got teleported- or whatever- to here, Sans said something about RESETS, and didn't tell me anything about it- like... what..." 

The two skeletons just gave M/n a blank stare as he went off on an unintelligible ramble. 

"AND ANOTHER THING-!" M/n raises his voice, smacking his hands together. "When I met Ink, he asked if we dated before- like? No? I've never dated anyone, i don't know who the hell you are, like, bro-" 

"You need to calm down, dude." Cross said, grabbing another cookie. 

M/n glared at him and slapped his hand away, "don't you tell me to calm down, I'm in here having a God damned crisis! I need to figure out what the hell is going on!" 

"Jeez, sorry-" 

M/n scoffed and hopped off the counter, turning his back to the two skeletons. He started cleaning up whatever mess that was left, and put all of the remaining cookies into a container. 

"Get out." He mumbled, heaving a heavy sigh. "need to be alone for a little." 

When M/n didn't receive a response, he sighed and slowly sunk to the kitchen floor. 

What the actual fuck is going on? Why are there so many versions of Sans, and why do they all think they know who I am? 

All of this was so overwhelming to M/n, that a thought graced his mind. 

I regret falling into that mountain. I want to go back home. 

There was an uneasy feeling left to sink in his stomach. He felt dizzy, felt like breaking down. But on the other hand, what if he was simply overreacting? He just felt like there was too much going on at once. It filled his head with jumbles and knots. M/n shut his eyes tightly and held his breathe for a few minutes, trying to get his mind to shut up. Oh, how he wished he could simply click his heels a few times, say there's no place like home, and just be back. 

"My head hurts so much." He whispered to himself, sniffling. 

M/n fell asleep, curled up in a fetal position, on the kitchen floor. His head was pounding, his palms were sweaty and he couldn't bring himself to wake up. He was exhausted, almost as if he'd just ran a marathon. 

Nightmare stood in the kitchen doorway, staring emotionlessly at the human, looking so pathetic as he slept. His gaze drifted the the container full of cookies on the counter. He reached for and opened it, snagging one cookie before returning the container to the counter. 

Nightmare bit into it and hummed deeply. The cookie was surprisingly good. He still thought of M/n as a pathetic human, but it was new information to him that he could make cookies taste not shitty without the use of magic. 

"Props to you, pathetic boy." He spoke under his breath. 

Nightmare took a few more cookies before leaving M/n in his fetal position on the cold kitchen floor. During the short few minutes that Nightmare had been in the same room as him, M/n had forcefully dig his fingernails into the palms of both of his hands, almost as if he was angry at whatever was going on in his mind as he slept. 

He really couldn't have chosen a worse spot to pass out. 

Hours passed, and it was nearing midnight. M/n was still asleep on the kitchen floor. A very, very, very exhausted looking Cross waltzed into the kitchen, barely noticing that M/n had been on the floor. Not really paying attention, Cross used his telekinesis to lift up M/n and move him to the couch. That was where Cross had been sleeping that night. Oh well, there's room for one more. Besides, it couldn't be very comfortable to sleep in a ball on the cold kitchen floor. 

Some Spanish television show was playing as Cross settled back onto the couch. His magic stopped once M/n was safely on the couch. Well, halfway on it. M/n's limbs had sprawled out over the couch and Cross. But he didn't care- he was too tired.