[DISCONTINUED] - Heaven's Tree - (Sans x Reader)

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Disclaimer: 

In no way is this story affiliated with Cryophobia. That story ended the way it did, and it will never continue. There may be references, but it is not the same universe. That world is never coming back, this is not a sequel.

You can ask me a question about this topic, but if I'm going to be strict and say if you insist that they are affiliated, I will mute you. You can read my stuff, but I won't allow you to comment things that are untrue. This is also because people insisting upon this false fact nearly ruined the whole entire writing process for me. It simply isn't true. :)

I hope you enjoy.

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"When you were little you liked to dream about meeting an angel, their soft white tunic, their soft eyes, their soft molten gold halo. But Michael has wings made of barbed wire, and a halo of starfire. His lightning-strike voice makes cracks in your bedroom mirror every time that he visits. They call you proclaimer. His holiness lives deep inside you, like a sword in the gut. You are rattled bones."

-Unknown

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{your p.o.v.}

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You're tending to the flowers in your garden. Everything is quiet here, and you're happier than you usually are. The small mansion you live in is usually loud and disruptive, but for now... you're content.

The small golden flowers seem to let off a life force that's beautiful and serene. It makes you think of the story your siblings tell you... the one about the monsters finally coming back to the surface. Lache and Atro are good siblings, and they've always treated you well. Even Atro, who can be a little angry sometimes... they're really, really swell. Both always tell the story like they saw it themselves, which you know isn't true... but ah, it's so nice to think about.

Lache has always told the tale a little better, though. Atro never seems to tell it right. There's always a little spite in their words. With a sigh, you sit up. You've always wanted to meet Lace's friends, the monsters. Sans, Papyrus, Toriel...

Lache and Atro are a lot older than you. Even though you're nine, nearing ten, they're around eighteen. Supposedly, though, monsters don't age and mature like humans do. But you never really leave home, so you wouldn't know.

"Are you Miss Clotho?" The sudden voice scares you. Startling, you drop your watering can. The water spills everywhere, barely missing your clothes. Which you're not supposed to be wearing, anyway. The hoodie and jeans just feel right. Though your mother and father have tried countless times to dress you daintily and elegantly... nothing ever really fits.

"There's an emergency. Your parents need you, right away." This sentence makes you laugh. Need you? You, of all people... you aren't needed in this house. The only reason your parents would be calling is if something...

Your face pales.

If something really, really drastic happened.

Standing on shaky legs... you follow the small messenger boy, trying to keep your cool. What could it be? What did you do this time? No... you haven't caused any trouble. Your parents are millionaires. They're always busy at what they're doing... and that's making life more comfortable for the monsters in the world.