(Sans x Reader) When Two Souls Meet

Meeting the Royal Nerd

Your Perspective

"So, who's this 'royal nerd?'" you ask Frisk. The two of you are sitting on the deck of a large wooden raft, and are being ferried along a river by someone Frisk has (very originally) named the River Person.

"A-l-p-h-y-s," Frisk says. You blink, trying to figure out how the heck you're supposed to pronounce that.

"Al-fis?" you ask, trying to sound it out. You made it sound like 'Al' (as in the name) together with something that sounds like the first syllable of 'physical.' Frisk nods. "Okay. And who is Alphys, exactly?"
"She's the royal scientist. She's really good with electronics and stuff," Frisk signs. "She also accidentally made a bunch of zombie monsters, but she doesn't like to talk about that, so don't bring it up."

"Zombie monsters?" you ask, suddenly a little bit anxious to meet this scientist.

"Well, they aren't zombies, exactly," Frisk signs, trying to explain. "They're just dead monsters that she accidentally brought back to life as mutants. They're also very nice... but still, you probably shouldn't ask about it."

"O-Okay then," you mutter.

"Don't worry," Frisk signs. "She's really nice—and you both like anime! I'm sure you'll get along great."

You fall silent as Frisk diverts her attention to the river, playfully letting her hands get swept along by the current. The air gradually grows warmer, and you're eventually forced to take off Sans' jacket.

Wait... Sans' jacket?

"Oh great," you mutter. Frisk turns to you, a questioning look on her face.

"I completely forgot to return this yesterday," you explain, tying the jacket around your waist. "Maybe we should stop by Sans' house on the way back."

"That'd be great!" Frisk signs. "I can tell Dunkle my new joke."

"Oh yeah? What joke is that?" you ask, grimacing. Your sister's jokes are never very funny—they usually don't even make sense.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" Frisk signs. That's it. The joke's already dead.

"I don't know," you say tightly, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Why?"

"To get to the loser's house," Frisk signs.

"That's... really good, Frisk," you lie, forcing a smile onto your face.

"I'm not done yet!" she signs, making a face. "Knock knock."

"Who's there?" you mutter.

"The chicken."

The terrible-ness of the joke is slowly killing you on the inside. Frisk looks at you expectantly, awaiting your reaction. You manage to force yourself to laugh, and Frisk beams at you.

I think I'm finally starting to understand why Sans and Frisk get along so well.

"Tra la la. Uh oh. Suddenly, feeling tropical..." the River Person says. You flinch—you'd almost completely forgotten they were there. And, true to their word, the temperature is getting ridiculously high. Sweat rolls down your forehead in beads, and the river itself seems to be boiling, steam curling off of its surface.

Oh, boy, you think. No wonder they call it the Hotlands.

You pull the neck of your shirt away from your body, trying to cool yourself off a little... but it doesn't help. At all. Even the breeze in this place is stifling hot.