Their only weapon being their DETERMINATION as they try to FIGHT or ACT their way out. YeahĪnyway, in this story, reader-chan, you, has a twin, he is really shy and timid and a cinnimonroll who needs ALL OF THE PROTECTION!!!!Īnd welcome to my new story, When the Crazies Roam Free!!!! An undertale x reader story( I have no idea what this will turn into to be completely honest.UNDERTALE is an indie RPG created by developer Toby Fox about a child, who falls into an underworld filled with monsters. "I swear, she knows we're not their parents."Īnyway, I've reached a dry spot with inspiration for my creepypasta story and currently Undertale is my main fandom soooo. "Y-you can have a s-seat if you p-please, I'll c-call you over w-when Principal Temmie is r-ready to s-see y-you!" With a sharp nod the couple made their way over to the seating area of the office. "Good," (y/n)'s 'mother' said, tapping the toe of her heel impatiently. You are a l-little early t-to your appointment," the receptionist stuttered once again. The principal w-will be available s-soon. "Yes, that's us, our daughter (y/n) over there is here to enroll with her brother, finally," the redhead spoke that last part under her breath but (y/n) could still hear her. "Ah, yes, me and my um, hm, Wife, are here to enroll our daughter." The man stuttered out, earning him a stomp of a heel onto his foot. "Wh-what can I do for y-you today?" The receptionist said shyly. (Y/n) and the men in white went to where they where told, (y/n) in the middle and the two men on either side. "(Y/n), darling, why don't you go sit over there with Stan and Dorian?" The young man smiled, his brown eyes shining as he gestured over to a small set up of seats. The group walked in, closing the door after. The door of the supposed destination was growing closer, the second man in white rushed forward, holding the door open for the company that he followed. Conditions, of you're current home," the women said coldly, not bothering to even take a glance at her 'daughter'. You do have a brain after all, can't be having all those good brain cells be forced to sit and rot in the present. "This is a school, you're twin is here, and you are enrolling. "Mom! Mom! Whats we doin' here anyway? Is my bro bro here?" (Y/n) asked, bouncing alongside the woman. "No ma'am, sorry ma'am!" The blond brut got off of the teen who shot up off the ground, glaring at the male before running after the lady. Grownflee and (y/n), who was still on the floor. The lady pushed her black rimmed glasses back up her nose and continued to walk, passing Mr. Grownflee, we musn't be bustin' up the little lady's head 'gain now, shall we?" It was the woman, she wore a tight-fitting navy blue work jacket and pencil skirt, red hair wrapped up in a perfect bun. "GET BACK HERE!" One of the men, the one with a name tag that read 'Stanford Grownflee', tackled the running girl, violently forcing her head to hit the ground. The female complied, sharply turning before darting forward causing the men in white to raise their voices. "Take a left at the next corner and go straight, the office should be there," the young looking man spoke in a monotone voice. Two men dress completely in white, and a seemingly younger 'couple' followed after her. People where staring, it wasn't new to the girl as she made her way through the halls, subconsciously itching at the white bandage wrapped around her head. (Y/n) stalked through the halls of the building, twitching in anticipation, looking over her shoulder at an alarmingly constant pace. Trekking into a new school is one of the hardest things to do, being an anxiety filled chronically depressed and registered and permanent resident in the local mental hospital knocks the bar to new extremes. Life was never a thing that was said to be a sin and a curse. In the eyes of the ones who wrote up a history of gods and our creation. A cycle like this would usually be counted as a crime, a sin, torture for only the most sin filled and the criminally insane. That one thing that can make living pointless, everyone has time, everyone runs out of it. Time, the thing that drags all of us down.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |