It was a beautiful day. It usually was on the surface, even if it rained. ("ESPECIALLY WHEN IT RAINS!" Undyne had declared once during a rather violent downpour, before she ran screaming into it, twirling in circles so many times it was a marvel she didn't get sick.) On this day, though, the beautiful sun, once a distant pinpoint in the sky above, was out in its full glory, only a few puffy white clouds floating here and there.

Asgore looked up at the sky and smiled, using the pause to adjust his now-grassy clothes. Once that was done, he went back to work, pushing the manual grass cutter up and down the lush, bright green spikes of grass that served as the front playground of the new school. Toriel's school.

The job she had given him had delighted him so much he teared up, both amusing and embarrassing Toriel as a result; that had clearly not been the reaction she had been expecting. In fact, for him, it was the job of his dreams.

He was the school's groundskeeper, now, an obvious step down from King, but to him, it was a promotion, especially when it meant he could be surrounded by children.

For the first year, the school operated only for monsters. Many of the children he knew, he recognised, from his many travels in the Underground. They recognised him, too, though some of them were wary of him at first, most seemed to find his demotion rather funny.

As a result, he was surrounded by children, and he adored it, even when they played silly tricks on him (though that didn't happen very often; the monster children loved and respected him too much to do more than just tiny tricks). He missed being a father, sometimes so much it made him feel empty and hollow. At school, he didn't feel that way any longer. Instead, even when covered in dirt and grass, he felt more like a king than he had when he actually was one.

In that year, Asgore and Toriel became friends. Certainly not as close as that one day he followed her home, but now, instead of glares, Toriel greeted him with a nod, then a smile, then a touch on his shoulder. Soon, they shared lunches together (mostly out of necessity at first, since he found himself too excited to make any lunch in the morning, and she took pity on him and began sharing hers, soon making enough for both of them as a habit), walked between classes together, even chatted after classes. Each time he wished he could hope for more. But he didn't push it.

It was the following year that saw him finally meeting his dreams head-on. Because it was then that the human government allowed Toriel's school to accept a few human children. This made not just the humans nervous, but the monsters, as well. For decades of decades, humans had been taught to fear and hate monsters. Now, they were supposed to be taught by those monsters. It was a definitely culture-shock.

However, when it was discovered that Frisk would be the first student (something all of them should have expected, really), the entire monster community relaxed. They knew that with Frisk there, they were protected, although in turn, of course they would protect Frisk. Soon, with Frisk's success, more human children began to come to the school, and even human teachers expressed interest in teaching there, as well. But there was a slight problem to that.

The very first thing everyone saw when walking into the school was Asgore. They knew who he was, who he had been, and what he had done. What they didn't know was why he was now there, cheerfully cutting grass or watering flowers. It was only when Frisk made a point of running to him every morning and attacking him with a bear-hug (one he pretended grounded him), that eventually, the tension seemed to ease, just a bit.

The humans were still scared of him, though, no matter how many times Frisk hugged him and spent time with him. It wasn't their fault, really: they, like monsters, were raised from birth to fear monsters, and if you coupled that with the raw fear of the unknown, well, of course they would be afraid.

And while it took the longest for them to warm up to him than it did the other monster teachers, once they did, well... needless to say, they treated him like a big, climbable, fluffy teddy bear.

And he LOVED IT.

When the second year also saw older human students, this also meant less climbing and more teasing. They loved to make fun of their groundskeeper, sometimes exchanging the real garden tools with plastic ones – only to regret it when Asgore cheerfully used those plastic ones, anyway, so that didn't last. Another favourite thing they loved to employ was their unfortunate nickname for him: Ass-Gore.

When Toriel first heard the name, she was furious. None of the monster students used the name, both out of respect and love for their former king, and the younger human children whom had grown up with monsters never even thought of using it, either. In fact, they would often defend Asgore, resulting in schoolyard fights, frustrating Toriel further.

"Do you know what they're calling you?" she demanded over lunch, the teachers' lounge full with monster and human teachers alike. At first, before they shared lunches, Toriel would sit with Alphys (science and cultural media), Shyren (musical theory and vocals), or Undyne (gym and martial arts). Now, she always sat with him, at first to simply just feed him, but also because... she wanted to.

Asgore's mouth was full when she asked, a stray snail antenna sticking into his beard. "Whash?" he asked.

Toriel glared at him, and he swallowed the entire bite before asking again. As Toriel taught history, cooking (with Papyrus occasionally joining her, though not by her choice), and the two youngest grades Frisk called "kindergarten", she was incredibly stern when it came to etiquette – especially around her fellow teachers.

"They call you..." She glared down at her own lunch. She couldn't even bring herself to say it.

"Ohh," he smiled. "The Ass-Gore thing?"

Toriel looked so angry, it was as if the fire she controlled consumed her eyes. "Yes, that. It's appalling, and it needs to stop. I've addressed it over and over, for them to have at least an ounce of respect-,"

Asgore burst into laughter, unable to keep it in. In response, Toriel grabbed his fork and heated it up, which only made his laughs louder.

"Tori!" he choked out when he could, which was good, because by then she was reaching for his cup. "I don't mind. Let them do whatever they want, call me whatever they want."

"You are the King of the Underground, Dreemurr," she answered tersely, her hand still hovering over his mug. "You deserve respect."

"Oh?" Asgore wondered, now using his hands to eat his pie. (Toriel twitched quite visibly when she saw this.) "And you, Tori, do you demand respect for being Queen of the Underworld?"

"No, of course not," she answered instantly.

"Right. You're Headmistress, not Queen."

"Your point, please?"

He moved his mug out of her reach, just in case. "I'm groundskeeper. A few silly names and pranks here and there come with the job, don't you think?"

Toriel's scowl softened a bit. "That's true, but... I don't like it."

"Well, I don't like it when they call you 'Tutorial', but there's nothing I can do about that."

Her eyes widened. "They call me that?"

"Yep." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "The older humans find you overdo it with details. Less tell, more show, I think is what they said."

Toriel blinked slowly, a slight blush on her cheeks. "Well... that's true for me, I suppose. I just want to make sure they know everything. But yours?"

He shrugged, smiling. "It's funny, actually. I'm surprised Undyne didn't think of it sooner."

"Oh, I did," Undyne called over from her table. She was flanked by both Alphys and Papyrus (who would also help her with gym and martial arts). "I thought of it when you were training me. I just liked you way too much to use it." And she grinned, all teeth, at this.

"See?" Asgore waved his hand at his former student and guard affectionately. (Undyne had given up her guard role, true, but whenever she thought he was in even a whiff of trouble, she stepped right back into it, something he would always cherish in his former student.)

Toriel turned and absolutely seethed at Undyne at this, who went instantly pale and lowered herself in her seat, looking away, the smile instantly shrinking into a tiny line of guilt. (Alphys helpfully tried to cheer her up with some candy sticks, which perked her up, but she still looked sorry.)

"Don't sweat it, Tori," he concluded when she turned back to him. "If anything, I think it means they see me as less of a monster and more of one of their own, don't you think?"

Toriel sighed. "Only you would think something like that would be a nice thing."

Asgore winked. "Isn't that why you hired me, Tori, dear?"

When his pie was suddenly charcoal, he got his answer to that.

Another time, near the end of the second year, was the one that seemed to finally thaw the humans completely to him, all thanks to Frisk.

Asgore enjoyed a nice nap in the summer sun once all of his chores were done for the moment, and he always chose the hedge that he had cut to look like Toriel – as Queen – to sleep beneath. As a former warrior, he would always have that sixth sense that came with it: the knowledge that someone was close by, and to wake up at once. Therefore, when he sensed Frisk and a group of children coming towards him, he feigned a deep, unshakable sleep.

(Later, Frisk admitted that they had known Asgore had been awake the entire time, which made even Toriel laugh so hard she almost choked on her tea.)

"Okay," Frisk said, whispering. They were surrounded by friends, mostly monsters, but also a few humans, which was the point. Frisk was speaking to the humans rather than the monsters. "Got everything?" A couple of acknowledgments. "Good. So, the thing about Asgore is-,"

"Ass-Gore," one of the human children added with a snort. (The named monster had to swallow a laugh as well, which almost ruined everything.)

"Shut up," Frisk said cheerfully. "See how big his horns are? Well, I bet they'd look super-nice decorated for a Christmas in June, don't you think?"

Suddenly, Asgore knew what Gryftrot must feel like. Keeping very still, Asgore felt his horns get heavier and heavier, as small, nervous hands wrapped them in tinsel, garland, and ribbons. Frisk even added a few ornaments.

When they were done, this resulted in much giggling and excited ideas for more decorations upon their groundskeeper. Frisk encouraged them, and by the time they were finished, even Asgore's hands were wrapped with ribbons and garland. Then, there were about a dozen flashes of phone cameras, which was when Asgore decided to pretend to turn over in his sleep. The result was surprised shrieking from the human children, who ran away, delighted. Soon, once they had posted the picture to their various social medias, the monster children followed suit, their giggles drifting away like a song on a breeze.

Only Frisk remained. "Okay, Papa. You can wake up, now."

Asgore sat up at once and opened his eyes, his head extraordinarily heavy. "Howdy, Frisk!" he replied cheerfully. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

Frisk grinned. "You don't mind, do you?"

"On the contrary," he replied, getting to his feet and stretching, getting adjusted to the new weight. "I'm quite happy to bring early festivities to the school."

For the rest of the day, he walked around like that, pretending not to understand why everyone else was pointing and giggling at him.

"Uh, Asgore?" Undyne said slowly, covering her mouth with her hand and trying to hide her grin – and failing. Her voice was choked with laughter. "Did you fall asleep at the mall or something?"

Asgore smiled at her and shrugged. "Dunno what you're talking about."

Toriel was less subtle. "You look ridiculous, Dreemurr."

"Ah, but very sparkly and pretty, don't you think?"

To his delight, Toriel looked away, trying to hide an irritated blush. "Should you wear that until winter, or shall we set you up in Snowdin?"

He laughed, hard, at that, and she smiled, looking over at him shyly.

After that, much changed, especially between Asgore and Toriel. Though Toriel prided herself in keen conversation and excellent teaching skills, after that incident, she found herself having trouble concentrating. She had seen similar behaviour in her older students, similar tensions, and Toriel wasn't a fool; she knew what her problem was and two years in close proximity to that problem likely didn't help matters.

But what could be done about it?

Once, standing in the back and listening to a lecture that mostly went over her head but the students seemed to love, Toriel met Alphys for dinner. This was something Toriel made a point of doing any time Alphys was on the surface; the doctor was incredibly wary in crowds, though she seemed to not realise that when in front of a crowd of students. Indeed, when it came to lessons, she absolutely thrived on teaching, and was good at it, too. Toriel had heard many students say that, while Alphys was a little "weird", her lessons were amazing. However, once the lesson ended and the classroom was empty, Alphys seemed to find herself confused as to what to do next, looking rather helpless in that state. Usually, Undyne would rescue her from such a state, but when Undyne proved busy with extracurricular activities, Toriel was the one to step in.

Alphys was always grateful. At first, she was far too nervous to accept Toriel's invitations, but when Toriel kept insisting, she finally accepted. What they didn't expect was a rapport to form between them, an actual friendship, one that was bound to last. Even when Alphys went on her many tangents that Toriel had no hopes of following, still she listened and encouraged the scientist to speak her mind. In turn, Toriel found herself learning more and more about humans through their culture, understanding them better.

This particular time, over coffee and bagels (a meal Frisk introduced them to and they both loved dearly), Alphys was ranting. Toriel sipped her drink as she listened, watching Alphys closely. She had many flaws, but her passion wasn't one of them.

"And it's nearly impossible to even try to get them to understand this!" she was saying, gesticulating wildly. Toriel nodded, sipping her "mocha", as Frisk had called it. "How hard is it for even one person to get that, yes, we were able to emulate a similar technology as their because of their garbage?!"

While most technology went over Toriel's head (though she loved her upgraded phone and would never, ever go back), she found she had something to say on this. "Humans don't like to think of their waste as useful, Doctor. They'd prefer to just toss it and forget about it."

"That's another thing!" Alphys agreed, her face angry. "They love to waste! Every time I try to explain how this isn't a good way to live, and how everything can be used again somehow, all I get are glowers! And then I get too nervous to continue and..." She looked away and wrung her hands in front of her. "The lesson usually ends in angry silence."

Toriel smiled kindly. "You never know, Doctor. Some of them may have gotten the message."

"Hmph," Alphys answered, grumpily resting her chin her hand, still looking away, the other picking at her bagel rather aggressively.

"Shall I distract you from this for now?" Toriel offered. Alphys looked over, then sat up and nodded, smiling faintly. "Yes, please," she agreed. "I'd actually love that."

Toriel eyed her closely, checking for sarcasm, which was always wasted on Alphys. She nodded. "What do you think of Asgore, Doctor?"

The reaction was not expected. Alphys went bright red, looking caught in an unwanted spotlight. She broke into a visible sweat, averting her gaze so quickly it was as if she had done it in the span of a blink. Toriel, bemused, stared at her.

"Er, I don't know what you heard, especially if it was from Mettaton, or even Frisk, but I assure you, Your Majesty Headmistress, that whatever it was has long past. I mean, I would be lying if sometimes he caught me off-guard and my own brain reacted to normal kindness as something far more than normal kindness, like with mugs or shirts or the like, but I'm like that, I read too much into things that aren't there, and work myself up, but ever since the barrier broke, and with the school a success, and being able to spend more time with her, and getting to know her so much more, it's so much better, but...but..." She looked up in mid-sentence, saw Toriel's expression, and lowered her head, concluded this with a rather weak, "Er."

Toriel was staring at her, much like she did when one of her students purposefully answered a question wrong in order to make the class laugh. Alphys had noticed, and was now trying to hide her head into her lab coat.

Then Toriel finally understood, and she smiled. "Doctor, did you once have a crush on Asgore?"

At which point, Alphys started choking, and Toriel had to help her.

Once they had both settled back down (many of the humans were staring at them in surprised, but the other monster patrons merely shrugged it off as normal; they knew how skittish their Alphys could be), Toriel tried again. "So, then, I assume you have only good things to say about Asgore?"

Alphys hesitated, cheeks still bright red and her glasses fogged up. Uneasily, she played with her own mug, a drink called a "pumpkin latte", which Alphys was addicted to.

"It's alright, dear," Toriel said honestly, trying to ease Alphys's nerves with a gentle touch to her shaky hand. "Go ahead. You won't offend me."

Alphys sighed deeply. "The... The secret's out to everyone now, r-right?"

Toriel's eyes darkened. The doctor meant the experiments that she had spent many, many months on, and many, many emotions on. The guilt that the scientist felt visible on her face, even after she had come clean and been honest with everyone. It was clear that, though everyone had (eventually) forgiven her, Alphys would never forgive herself.

"Yes, Doctor," Toriel agreed gently. "The determination research."

Alphys looked up, her eyes wide and full of sorrow. "I... I... had to follow his commands. But, they were hard, though... I'd be lying if I didn't add that it was very fascinating. As time went on... we grew close, or rather, we became friends, and I perhaps... read too much into it. I do that. Er." She looked back down. "B-but, when everything went wrong... it was so hard to look at him the same way... though I still like him and enjoy being his friend, I..." She bit her lip, looking ready to cry.

Toriel nodded. She understood completely.

When Asriel returned from the surface, still holding Chara to him, he was already starting to vanish. He was covered in wounds, crying and crying, kneeling in the flowers of the courtyard. Toriel had sensed him, tried to get there in time, was already running to him, when she heard him speak.

"I couldn't do it, Chara," he whispered into the dead child's hair. "I couldn't do it. I know you said, with your soul, it would be easy to, but... I'm a coward. You... you died for nothing... and now... so will... I..." He sobbed, once.

Toriel was running as fast as she could, but she was too late.

"I'm so sorry, Chara," her son sobbed, his body slowly dissolving, like motes in a sunbeam. His body shrank to its normal form as he began to die. "I'm not... brave like you. I'm not... strong like you. I love... loved... will always..."

He collapsed, becoming dust before he hit the ground. Only Chara remained, their prone body now covered in their brother's ashes, cradled within the flowers, looking both sleeping and dead all at once.

"No... No! NO!" Toriel screamed it, collapsing beside Chara, holding them close, feeling the dust of her son staining her robes. "Asriel! Chara! Please!"

Asgore heard her screams, and ran to her side, not quite comprehending what he was seeing as he got close. He dropped to his knees beside his grieving wife and embraced both her and their dead human child close, Toriel falling into his embrace. By then, he, too, was weeping.

Because monsters turn to dust, the tradition was to sprinkle the dust upon the place the monster had loved most in life, usually by family members and loved ones. For Chara, it wasn't that way, at all. Though they did eventually show signs of decay, when they did not turn to dust, Toriel forced herself to research human funerals, and came up with the idea to wrap Chara in bandages and place them in a coffin.

Both parents did so together, washing their human child's body with water as well as tears, dressing the human with careful, shaking hands. With heavy hearts, they placed Chara within the coffin they had built together, and placed it deep within the Palace's basements.

Once and a while, before Asgore began killing children, Toriel would drift to the basement and sit beside Chara's coffin, at first just crying and wishing things were different. With time, though, she soon brought books with her, reading them aloud to the coffin, as if Chara's silence merely meant an avidly listening mind.

Asgore came down once during a particularly engrossing reading of Toriel's favourite book about snails. He stood at the foot of the steps, listening to his wife explain the many wonderful things snails had going for them, even if eventually they became her favourite food.

When her voice caught, she closed the book and lowered her head, placing one hand on the coffin – over the bright red heart – her shoulders shaking. Asgore was at her side at once, and she reached for him, one of the last times she would. Together, they wept, both holding one hand over that bright red heart.

But that was before.

"You killed them?!"

Asgore stood in shock, his arms holding a glass canister. Within it was a bright, glowing soul. Toriel was blocking his way to the basement, her hands already on fire, her eyes also seeming just as bright.

"I..." he began, but she raised one hand and flung a chain of fire at him, hitting him on the shoulder and burning through his robes. The acrid smell of burnt fur and hair filled the room, but he didn't flinch or move away. It hurt, a lot, but still he stood.

"Why, Dreemurr?!" she sobbed, her now-cool hand reaching forward and pressing against the glass of the canister. "Why would you do this?!"

"Tori..."

"Why?!"

Asgore looked at her helplessly. "It was the only way. We need human souls to break the barrier. The child wouldn't give up, so I had to... I... had to..."

Toriel's eyes spilled over.

"Didn't I?" he added, sounding confused, and now feeling it.

Toriel drew back from him, as though slapped. She was shaking her head, her eyes so wide and full they were all he could see. "Asgore, I can't..." She shut her eyes once, then went on, sounding like every word was breaking her heard. "Do you... do you plan on continuing with this madness?!"

Asgore looked down at the soul he held, his heart wrenching at the sight.

"Because if you do, Asgore... I... I can't stay here. I can't watch you kill children. Don't you understand what you've done? Why would you do this, Asgore?! After losing your own children...!"

Asgore shut his eyes tight, feeling his body start shaking. "We... we must be free."

Then, silence. When he looked up, she was gone.

Now, Toriel said, "Asgore sometimes seems like an enigma, does he not? One moment he's full of love and care, the next he turns into something completely alien and terrifying."

Alphys looked surprised. "Y-yes, exactly!" she agreed. "He's so kind, so gentle, but he can be so ruthless, often without even thinking! And you'd think he would know better, but... er..."

Toriel nodded. "He pushes it aside if it hinders his goal."

Alphys looked at her hands, the claws chewed and uneven. "I... regret a lot of that. Allowing my affection, my own hopes, to blind me to what I was doing to innocent monsters." She looked like she was about to be sick.

"Dr Alphys, it's alright."

"It isn't," was the answer, her head lowered and her glasses once more fogged up. "I don't know how anyone could ever forgive me, how they ever even could forgive me. Es-especially..."

"Undyne," Toriel supplied easily. She had seen Alphys gaze at the warrior when she thought no one else was watching, the gaze a mix of tender love and fear of rejection.

Alphys went bright red. "I hurt her, too. Could have hurt her even more if she had... if she had..."

Toriel didn't understand that. She had thought, when it came to her fellow teachers, she knew all that there was to know. But now Alphys was confusing her with this conjecture. Instead of saying so, she simply said, "You'd be surprised, Doctor."

Which was also true. When Alphys was hard at work, or in the midst of a lecture, or sitting alone to eat because she didn't want to impose on anyone, Undyne was always looking at her, either entranced by the scientist's passion, or with tenderness that she showed no one else, not even Papyrus. Every time Alphys sat alone, Undyne made a point of always sitting with her (usually accompanied by Papyrus). This usually caused Alphys to become so flustered she forgot to eat, but the happiness on her face was so bright it was lovely. Undyne's expression, however, never changed from its tenderness, despite how blind Alphys was to it. Alphys was definitely loved back.

"She kissed me, once," Alphys blurted out suddenly. "On the surface, at the beach."

Toriel knew. Greater Dog had seen the whole thing, and pantomimed all of it to her with excited yipping. Instead of admitting it, though, she asked, "Was it what you'd hoped for?"

Suddenly, Alphys's whole face lit up, so bright and happy, that it made her look stunning. She practically beamed with love, and Toriel sipped her mocha with a smile. Alphys resumed her watch of her hands, her smile wide and unrestrained, her face red, still.

"Better," she murmured. "So much better." She paused, then blinked in surprise, looking mortified. "Ah! Queen Toriel! I'm so sorry! We were supposed to-to be talking about Asgore!"

Toriel smiled brightly. If she were to be honest – and she usually was – listening to the budding love story between Alphys and Undyne was quite better than discussing Asgore. Ever since the two had met, the Underground had been abuzz with rumours. Everyone had love for both women, and seeing them together was like seeing two halves a whole finally find each other. Undyne knew this, and made it no secret; if only Alphys would be confident enough to see it, too.

"Alright." Toriel waved a hand indulgently. "We can change topics."

Looking relieved, Alphys then took a long gulp of her latte before saying, rather breathlessly, "But saying what I've said, Your Majesty-,"

"If you must use a title, please use Headmistress, dear."

Alphys paused, then looked to the side, smiling. "Asgore corrects me, too. 'Groundskeeper,' he always says when I slip up and call him 'King'. Did you know how many emails he sends me about how wonderful it is to be surrounded by plants? He also loves never having to use magic anymore. And the kids? Oh, he loves the kids."

Toriel listened silently as Alphys went on, describing a man who longed to be a father to every child he met in the school. She realised how much he seemed to miss being a father, maybe almost as much as she missed being a mother.

Her cycles had ended with Asriel's death, so she knew children were no longer an option. But then, after Asriel and Chara, perhaps she wasn't so sure she wanted to be a mother again.

Except to Frisk. She would always have room in her heart for Frisk.

"He still loves you, Your Headmistress."

Toriel looked up in shock. Alphys was looking at her quite frankly. "He..." Toriel looked away. "I know."

"Don't you love him?"

"He killed children, Alphys."

"But he regrets it. And is doing everything he can to make amends, thanks to you. I know... I know how hard that is to do."

"Thanks to me?" Toriel echoed, tilting her head a little.

Alphys grinned. "Yes! By giving him that job! Have you seen how the children love him? Did you see that one time he was decorated like a Christmas tree?" When Alphys giggled at the memory, Toriel couldn't help but laugh a little, too.

The thing was, she knew this. She knew better than anyone.

"You still love him, don't you, Your Headmistress?"

Alphys was looking at her with a calm face, her eyes wide behind her glasses. Toriel stared back, her mouth slightly open, as if Alphys had just made a fighting dummy disappear.

"I..." She shifted in her seat. "I find this topic... distasteful."

Alphys blushed deeply, mumbled her apologies, and resumed eating. Toriel watched her, wondering how Alphys, a monster who never seemed to catch signals thrown towards her in obvious ways, always seemed to catch signals between others.

Because there was no denying it: it was true. Asgore had changed. And Toriel loved him for it.

The following day, the last day of the school week, Toriel found herself watching him closely, trying to assess her feelings within her breast when she looked at him.

He was humming happily, clipping his latest hedge-art: a perfect example of Papyrus's face. The skeleton in question stood close by, supervising.

"NO, NO," he would say once and a while. "MY SMILE IS MUCH WIDER. WIDER!"

"If I make it wider, it will be nothing but smile."

"I'M FINE WITH THIS. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, THE GREATEST ROYAL GUARD ON THE SURFACE, AM KNOWN FOR MY GLORIOUS SMILE, REGARDLESS OF THE AMOUNT OF TEETH I MAY ACTUALLY HAVE."

Asgore shrugged and did as he was asked, successfully ruining a normal-looking Papyrus and making it an all-teeth Papyrus.

"wow," sans said, suddenly appearing from behind it. "that's quite a stretch. and rather horrifying, really."

"NOBODY ASKED YOU."

"but they should. my opinions matter."

"NOT WHEN IT COMES TO TOPIARY DISPLAYS OF MY FEARFUL SNARL!"

Asgore was grinning, watching the exchange and holding the shears closed for now, as the two brothers bickered. (or, rather, Papyrus bickered, and sans turned his words into bad puns.)

Toriel watched from the window, waiting for the final class of the day to start, but also using the time to watch Asgore.

"do you really have that many teeth?"

"THEY'RE OBVIOUSLY EXAGGERATED TO INSTILL, BROTHER!"

"Pardon me," Asgore broke in. "But to instill fear for whom?"

"UHH..." Papyrus scratched his bony cheekbone, then stood up straighter in his trademark pose. "FOR ANYONE TRYING TO CROSS THIS SCHOOL WITH NEGATIVITY IN THEIR HEARTS! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, HAVE A SMILE THAT WILL TURN EVIL INTO LAUGHTER!"

"trust my brother to think of something impossible, huh?"

Toriel rested her cheek on her hand, leaning on the open windowsill as she watched, unaware of the silly smile playing on her lips. Asgore was smiling happily, which was clearly contagious. There was something oddly charming about this entire exchange, especially with Asgore there to add his own opinions.

"SOME HUMANS STILL HATE US. THIS IS FOR THEM!"

"Wouldn't it be better to put something happy, her, instead?" Asgore wondered, using the handle of the shears to scratch his head.

"AH, BUT FOR EVERYONE ELSE, YOUR GROUNDSKEEPERNESS, THIS IS HAPPY!"

Toriel heard movement behind her and turned to find Frisk there, early as usual. After a big hug and an update on their day, Frisk joined Toriel at the window to resume watching.

"Oh, this again?" Frisk snorted. "There's another one just as ruined in the back. Papyrus is planning to make two more for each direction of the school."

"And Asgore is fine with this?"

Frisk laughed in reply, and Toriel smiled, realising the question was silly: of course Asgore would be fine with it.

"Mama Tori?"

"Hm?" Toriel was gazing at Asgore again, finding it remarkable how the sun seemed to make his greying blond hair almost glitter in its light. Why had she never noticed that before?

"Oh." Frisk joined her at her side at once, following her gaze. "Watching Papa Gorey?"

Toriel was now staring at Frisk. She'd never heard that name before, but Frisk said it so calmly and cheerfully that it was clear they had been using it for a while, and it came quite easily to them.

Had Frisk accepted Asgore as a father? Like they had Toriel their mother?

"Yes," Toriel finally agreed, finding no reason to hide it, especially from Frisk.

A loud shout interrupted whatever Frisk wanted to say next. Undyne was storming across the grass, spear in hand, looking furious. "PAPYRUS!" she shouted.

The skeleton in question looked sheepish instantly, turning to Undyne in slightly cowered way. "YES, UNDYNE?"

Undyne marched right up to him and stood so close that only her spear separated them. "I have twenty brats waiting for you to get to teaching them! You know, your JOB?!"

"WELL, AS YOU CAN SEE, I HAD SOME IMPORTANT BUSINESS HERE-,"

"I don't care!" was Undyne's final comment, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him away, keeping her spear pointed backwards at him lest he tried to escape.

"She hasn't changed much," Asgore laughed, watching them go.

"you'd be surprised," sans replied mysteriously. "talked to alphys lately?"

"Yep. I told her that she had quite a following on the internets, one of those social things. She didn't believe me."

sans was silent for a moment, staring at him, before shrugging and spreading his hands in defeat. He turned and took off in the opposite direction, though once he walked past a tree, he was gone. Confused, Asgore again used the shear's handle to scratch his head, before turning back to the monstrosity before him. He still had to finish it, after all.

"Mama," Frisk said now.

"Yes, my dear?"

"Admit you love him, please."

"Without question," she agreed without pause, feeling embarrassed for finally saying it aloud, but again, she could never lie to Frisk.

Frisk gently placed a hand upon Toriel's, and Toriel held it with a smile.

Completely oblivious, Asgore continued to work. Luckily, by that point, class had started, and Toriel allowed herself to be distracted away from the window by the job she loved the most.

But Asgore must have sensed something, because he paused and looked over at the open window, listening to Toriel teach passionately. He leant against Papyrus's grassy face and just listened, hearing the excitement and happiness in her voice, the tones ones he hadn't heard in a very long time.

He lowered his head, feeling his throat close up and his eyes burn. He tried to calm down, but it was too difficult; Toriel's voice was like a melody, almost like Shyren's, but more powerful for him, washing over him and making him feel long-dead feelings once more, that yearning, longing love.

He desperately wanted her back.

When the school day ended and Toriel was locking up the school for the night, Frisk at her side, Asgore walked over awkwardly, feeling like an intruder. Frisk looked up, smiled brightly, and ran to embrace him, the force of the hug so hard he almost lost his balance and breath. He wheezed a little, but he hugged back.

"Now, now, Frisk," Toriel chastised, with a note of humour in her voice. "I still need him to fix the gutters next week, so please smother him once that is finished."

"Tori..." he rasped out. He loved many things about his job, but cleaning the gutters was not one of them. "Frisk, go ahead and smother me."

Frisk laughed in delight, squeezing harder, knowing no amount would topple him. In reply, Asgore easily scooped Frisk up and placed them on his shoulders, where they sat amidst a giggle fit, hands tangling into his hair at once.

Toriel watched them with a tender expression on her face. Before she even thought of it, she said, "Why don't you come by for a while and have some tea, maybe some supper with us?"

Asgore and Frisk stared at her as one unit. Toriel blushed, then turned away and waved them forward, already starting her way down the street. Frisk looked down at Asgore, who looked up at Frisk. Frisk nodded with a grin, but Asgore merely felt nervous.

As they walked, Asgore and Frisk talked, mostly about Frisk's studies, but once that topic was exhausted, it oddly turned to politics.

"So, it was so stupid, but I had to explain again why and why not."

"You'd think they'd be smart enough to know that already, don't you think?"

Frisk rolled their eyes. "They've been doing it for so long, and they forgot you were even there, Papa. So of course they have trouble connecting the fact that 'toxic dumping in the waters' would affect 'monsters underground that they forgot they had'."

"How silly," Asgore agreed.

"I know!" Frisk exclaimed, throwing their hands up in the air and growling in frustration.

This exchange went on for a while, Toriel staying silent. She kept her face away, ensuring that neither saw the tears threatening to spill over. If Frisk saw, all they would do would try and dry them, but if Asgore saw them... she was afraid of his reaction the most, whether it was for him to run away with excuses, or worse, comforting her. She couldn't handle either of these.

Once at the house, Frisk slid down from Asgore's shoulders and took his hand, then took Toriel's in the other. Above Frisk's head, their eyes met, and Asgore finally saw the tears that Toriel had forgotten to hide. She looked away quickly, using the excuse to unlock the door. Asgore knew what he had seen, however, and as he followed Frisk into the house, he knew exactly what to do.

"Frisk, go wash your hands, dear," Toriel reminded them. Frisk scowled, protesting that their hands were clean enough to use utensils, but when Toriel raised an eyebrow, they went, grumbling all the same.

Toriel smiled, watching Frisk go. "Tonight, I've made Frisk a special kind of human pie, with the kind of meat they like, but I also made snail pie for myself." She looked up at Asgore, who stood staring at her, again that haunted expression on his face. "You can... have some with me..." She paused, looking closely into his face. "Asgore... Are you alright?"

Asgore shook his head. He walked over, stood in front of her, and cupped her face between his hands. She stared at him in shock, her eyes filling again, unable to utter a word to this sudden intimacy. So much stood between them, so much pain and loss...

"Asgore..." Toriel whispered, looking away. "Frisk is here, and-,"

He shook his head and kissed her. Toriel stood frozen, her eyes wide and still on his, tears running down her cheeks. But then, something blazed deep within them, and her arms went around his waist so tightly it shocked him. She was kissing him back, now, in a way Asgore remembered, in a way Toriel remembered. Only this time, it was so much sweeter, so much more potent, than ever before. It was like kissing for breath, for life, for here and now but also for then and later.

By now, both were in tears, standing in the still-dark hallway of Toriel's Aboveground home, this kiss so much more than just a kiss, something they both knew there was no going back from.

Frisk stood in the doorway of the washroom, hands still soapy, a smile playing on their lips, but their eyes also teary.

It was Toriel who drew away, first, but Asgore still held her face, and she searched his eyes almost desperately. It was a look that made her look both young and ancient. "Gorey..." she whispered.

He leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes at the name. She reached up and touched his forearms with an iron grip, pressing her forehead back, biting her lip.

"I... I'm so confused, Gorey."

"Me, too," he agreed.

"What are we to do now?"

In response, Asgore merely kissed her again, surrendering to her warmth. She kissed him back, for a moment, unable to help herself, years and years of dormant emotions bubbling up within her. When Asgore pulled way this time, it was to let go of her face, wrap his arms around her, and bury his face into the soft fur of the curve of her neck. Toriel shut her eyes tight, this also so familiar it hurt.

"I never stopped loving you, Tori. I wasn't lying when I told you a year ago."

"I know, because it was the same for me, too, Gorey. But... I just... I was so angry at you. After seeing our children die, for you to kill more..."

Asgore flinched, moving to break away from her at this, but Toriel held him tight, digging her fingers in, keeping him in place.

"But now..." she continued. "Now, I see. When you're with Frisk. When you're with the other children, monster and human alike... I know you'd never, ever consider taking another child's life, ever again."

As she said it, she knew it to be true at last. Though some anger still lingered and always would, the feelings she felt now, the truth she knew now, made her positive without a doubt.

"Tori..." he whispered it, his voice hoarse with tears, clutching her as close as he could.

"Come home," she answered tearfully, before finally breaking down and allowing her tears to break loose. Asgore stood his full height and held her close, her sobs shaking his own free.

Soon, small arms wrapped around their legs. Both Toriel and Asgore reached down and placed a hand each on Frisk's head, Asgore's atop Toriel's. Frisk squeezed their legs tight, shaking with tears of their own, and for that moment, it was as if they were one unit, weeping for a past long gone, irrevocably shattered and stacked with regrets.

But with Frisk there, Asgore and Toriel felt something else, stronger than that grief. Before them suddenly opened a future, one in which Frisk would grow up a child of monsters but also purely human, raised by the former monarchs of the Underground, but schooled upon the surface of their birth. Through Frisk, Asgore and Toriel would finally be able to bury their past, allowing their future to reside within Frisk, as well as themselves. They would raise Frisk just like they had their other children, only now, they knew better, they knew how. And Frisk would grow to adulthood a strong, fierce, loving and cheerful warrior, a perfect amalgamation of human and monster, who would finally become the future of the harmony of monsters and humans at last.

But that was later, much later. Now, there was pie to be served, and a family to grow again. As the three walked to the kitchen, they walked their first true steps of real unity between their two peoples.

And this time? There were and would be no regrets.