This story was written on April 5, 2022 for the Spring Fiesta Short Story Contest, hosted by magic. I used the seventh prompt on the list as inspiration.

⚠ Trigger Warning: This story contains themes of self-harm and suicide. If that's not for you, please do not read this story, and contact a hotline if you are experiencing suicidal thoughts.

I took the golden flower and tucked it into my bouquet, without anyone noticing. Smiling to myself, I joined the rest of the garden party. Everything was going according to plan. Today, I would save the world, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

From across the large ballroom of Sónera Palace, my family was gathered for the annual royal photos. I, of course, was not in them. While I was a member of the Dreemurr clan, the ones who ruled over all monsters, I was a human. This did not matter to them – they had a strange sentimentality toward me that I still do not understand.

I was camera-shy, simply put. I stood out like a sore thumb amidst the rest of my family. The Dreemurrs, with their white fur, goatlike faces, and four paw-beans – versus myself, a human who had fallen through the barrier and into the Underground. The place where humans are forbidden to come, and yet they showed me grace.

A grace I do not deserve. A grace I didn't deserve, even then. I lifted a flower to my mouth – a buttercup. It tasted bitter and rancid, and I nearly spat it out. I turned my eyes away from Asriel as I swallowed, though I could feel those two sapphire jewels burning through me like a purifying fire. My eyes blurred with tears at what I was about to do.

But it was well. When I finally fulfilled my role as the future of humans and monsters – becoming one with my brother, so we could break the barrier – it would all be worth it.

I tore another buttercup from my bouquet and downed it, crunching down on the petals, destroying them in my mouth. I deserved this, didn't I? I deserved to have my body convulse, to die. I knew what I was doing. And I didn't care. I was a human – a disgusting, worthless, wretched human.

Perhaps by this sacrifice, I could free the people I so wished to be a part of.

Perhaps by this sacrifice, I could murder the people I so wished to end.

My stomach churned almost immediately, and my vision grew dark, though I continued to eat the golden flowers. Asriel must have been finished with the royal photos by now, but my feet swiftly crossed the room, and my soul burned with Determination. But I willed myself not to reset, though the pain in my head grew to an almost unbearable degree.

My muscles seized up, and I fell to the ground, vomiting. Gasps resounded from around me, but I could barely hear them. "Princess...! Are you alright...?" the distant cries of passersby called. From afar, I heard Queen Toriel – Mom – call for a medic. But I could not stop vomiting.

Finally, I lay in the puddle of my lunch from earlier, my cheek stained and the rancid smell of stomach acid wafting into my nostrils. My robes, bearing the symbol of the Deltarune, were no doubt soiled with sweat and puke. Asriel's voice sobbed from beside me. "Chara! Chara...please...wake up..."

His hands were on my back, trying to heal me. But I resisted. I resisted with every fiber of my being to accept his healing. The idiot knew we had to go through with the plan. He knew we needed six more human souls to break the magical barrier.

The medics rolled me over. I looked up at my brother, the prince heir and the only friend I had ever known. I wanted so badly to bury my hands in his soft fur, to hold him and squeeze him until he couldn't breathe. But I was paralyzed. This was my last hurrah, my swan song.

Some people are meant to die young, I suppose. This was the beginning of the end for me. I coughed out a final word as the medics lifted me onto a gurney and sped me as fast as possible toward the palace infirmary. Queen Toriel and King Asgore were crying. But the true wailer was Asriel.

He was by my side the whole time. I coughed, forcing out a final phrase at him. Reminding him of what we had to do, reminding him of the promise he'd made to me long ago. "Big kids...don't cry."

He sniffed, looking downward. "I'm sorry...I'm sorry, Chara..."

"Big...kids...don't...cry..." I whispered.

Then the world went black.

(732 words)