Frisk waved goodbye to the Riverperson as she stepped onto the dock. The screams of the tormented rang in her ears, the air cold despite the fiery pits below G's palace.

The demigod barely reached the doors when they opened. She shrugged off the sudden unease crawling up her spine and continued.

The halls were just as grand as ever as she walked the path to G's throne room. Frisk soon found herself at the doorway to the throne room. She hesitated.

"It's just a message." She mumbled, raising her first to knock. "Deliver it and then you can go."

The thumps echoed through the palace.

"Enter."

Frisk pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

It was simple, elegant in the room. A long table was decked with food, enough for a feast. The fireplace was huge, flickering with flames. A throne faced the fireplace, a black leather jacket hanging on its armrest.

"Frisk?"

She turned to see the God of Death. Her eyelids suddenly felt heavy.

G stared down at her, dressed in his usual attire. Except his jacket was missing, leaving his ribcage covered by a dark grey shirt and a black vest. His gold eye was aflame.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. Curiosity was in his voice.

"T- Toriel sent me, requesting permission to visit you." Frisk said. Her blue and purple sweater was sticking to her back. It was a struggle to not close her eyes.

G nodded with a smile. "Of course. It will be a pleasure to have your mother visit. Tell her she has my permission."

Frisk nodded back, resisting a yawn. She started to head to the door when a thought struck her.

Why had Toriel sent her? There was hundreds of messengers in Olympus. In fact, it was odd that her mother hadn't visited her face to face. She had just left a note...

She noticed G's smile had turned into a smirk when his hand rested on her waist. "You look tired. Maybe you should just close your eyes and take a nice nap."

"Y- You tricked me..." Was Frisk's last words before the spell overcame her. G caught her as she slumped into sleep.

He gently held her, setting Frisk in his throne. G placed his jacket on her, smiling at the cute image.

He pulled a pomegranate out. The seeds smelled tart as G plucked one, two, three out. It was easy to slip them into her mouth.

When Frisk swallowed the twelfth seed, G smirked in victory.

"She's mine!"