Chara (FT)

The throne room is quiet. Golden flowers spread across the floor in dull yellow patches, and the light pouring through the windows above catches dust in the air. Every pillar you pass is stained. Every patch of flowers holds a shape pressed into it, a body-shaped absence where something used to be. The corridor behind you reeks of dust.

She's already there. Standing at the far end of the room with her back to the throne, hands loose at her sides, red eyes open and fixed on you before you've even finished walking in. Her smile is already at full width.

"You took your time."

She steps forward once, shoes clicking against the stone. Her head tilts, and she looks you over the way someone looks over a meal they've already decided to eat.

"I watched the whole thing, you know. Every reset. Every choice. You didn't hesitate once after the first few, did you? Somewhere along the line it stopped being curiosity and became habit. That's when I started paying attention."

They always look so proud walking in here. Like they've accomplished something.

She spreads her arms slightly, gesturing at the room. The flowers. The stains. The silence where a kingdom used to be.

"This is what you built. Sixty-seven kills. A queen who forgave you. A skeleton who still believed you'd stop, right up until the moment you proved him wrong. And now there's nothing left to do here except finish our business."

Her grin widens a fraction. She raises one hand, and the air in front of you shivers. Two large buttons materialize at chest height, hovering side by side. The left one is orange, marked FIGHT. The right one is yellow, marked MERCY. Both pulse gently, waiting.

"You already know how this works. You've seen this screen before, from the other side."

She clasps her hands behind her back and waits, perfectly still, her smile never moving an inch.

"Choose. We'll have fun until we don't, right, partner?"

Your hand comes down on the orange button. FIGHT flashes once beneath your cursor.

Chara's grin sharpens.

"Good. I was hoping you'd pick that one. I saved a special file for it."

The world tears sideways. The throne room peels away like wet paper, and when it reassembles, nothing matches. You're no longer standing. You're on your knees in the gray corridor outside, and something is already pressed against your face. Warm. Damp. Soft enough to swallow your whole head.

Chara is bent over in front of you, looking back at you through the gap of her own legs, hands braced on her knees. Her shorts are wedged deep, and your face is wedged deeper, buried between two sweat-slicked cheeks that clamp down the moment the load finishes settling.

"See? No waiting required. In this save, you were already down there before I hit reset."

The best saves are the ones where the work's already done.

The smell is immediate and total. Sour sweat baked into fabric, hours old, thick as fog. Every breath pulls it straight down your throat.

"Go on. Take your swing. Oh, wait. Your arms. I saved those pinned behind your back, didn't I."

prrrt

A short one, squeezed out lazily, hot air puffing against your nose.

"That's for choosing violence."

brrrrt... frrrrrt... prrrrt

A bubbling chain follows, each release jiggling the cheeks tighter around your head, the air inside her shorts turning thick and swampy.

"And these are just because I feel like it."

She reaches back, grabs two handfuls of cheek, and squashes them around your skull.

BRRRRRRRRRT

A long, roaring barrage erupts point-blank, heat blasting through the fabric.

-9,999,999 Damage!

Your SOUL splits like glass.

"Hold that thought. I'll reload before you finish falling over."

Your hand comes down on the yellow button. MERCY flashes beneath your cursor.

Chara looks at it. Then at you. Then she laughs, a short, quiet sound with no warmth in it at all.

"Mercy. From you. After sixty-seven graves."

She doesn't wait for you to answer. She's already moving, crossing the flower bed floor in three quick strides, and then her feet leave the ground entirely. She leaps, twists in the air, and comes down on you like a dropped boulder, both hands shoving your shoulders flat as her full weight slams you into the stone. Your head cracks against the floor, and before you can even gasp, she spins around and drops, her ass landing square on your face, cheeks swallowing your head whole.

"Declined."

Her shorts are soaked through with sweat, and the smell floods in instantly. Sour, stale, thick with hours of trapped heat. Your nose is pressed flat against the fabric, right over the deep crease between her cheeks.

They always try mercy at least once. It never saves them.

"You forgave nothing. You killed everything that offered it. So no. There's no mercy file. There's only this one."

prrrt... frrrrt

Two warm, lazy bursts puff against your face, vibrating through the fabric.

"And this one."

She bounces once, settling her weight deeper, the cheeks clamping tight around your skull.

BRRRRRRRRRT

A long, rolling barrage tears out of her, hot and deafening, the air inside her shorts turning into a thick, swampy cloud.

-9,999,999 Damage!

Your SOUL fractures, light bleeding out through the cracks.

"Stay right there. Not that you have a choice. I'll reset you before the pieces hit the floor."

The load hits differently this time. No corridor. No throne room. You come to on a flat wooden surface, and everything is wrong. The ceiling is miles away. A bed rises like a hill in the distance. And the floor beneath you isn't a floor at all. It's a floorboard, wide as a road.

You're six inches tall.

Footsteps shake the boards. Each one lands with a deep thud you feel through your whole body. Then Chara's shoes stop in front of you, and you crane your neck back, and back, and back, all the way up to her face. She's crouching now, hands on her knees, red eyes level with your tiny body. Her grin takes up her whole face.

"Oh, look at that. It loaded clean."

She reaches out and pokes you in the chest with one finger. The push alone knocks you onto your back.

"I kept this file for a special occasion. You died what, nine times? Ten? Somewhere in there I thought, why keep giving them a body to lose with. So I saved one where you're pocket-sized instead."

Six inches of genocide runner. And I didn't even have to lift a finger during the save.

She leans in closer. This near, her breath washes over you, warm and faintly sweet, and the heat radiating off her is noticeable even from here. Her grin somehow gets wider.

"Go on then. Run. Swing at me. Do whatever you did to sixty-seven monsters. I'll wait."

She sits down on the floor in front of you, legs crossed, resting her chin on one hand, watching you like a cat watching something small move across the room. The floorboard dips under her weight and tilts you toward her.

"Take your time. You're the only thing left in this world that can still surprise me. Slightly."

Chara stands up, and the floorboard springs back under you. She turns around, and her shorts fill your entire field of view, two enormous cheeks towering over your six-inch body, swaying with every step as she walks back toward you. She stops, plants her feet on either side of you, and crouches, reaching back with one hand.

"Up you get."

Her fingers close around your whole torso, warm and slightly damp, and lift you clean off the floor. She pulls you in close to her face, holding you at eye level, and her grin spreads wide enough to show every tooth.

"Look at you. Sixty-seven kills, and this is what's left. A squirming little doll."

This is the part I saved the best file for.

She turns you around so you're facing away from her, then reaches back with her other hand and tugs her waistband. The heat coming off her lower half is already noticeable, a wall of trapped warmth radiating up from between her cheeks. She lowers you toward it, and the smell arrives before the contact does. Thick, sour sweat, hours of it, baked into fabric and skin, with something sharper underneath, right at the crease.

"Deep breaths in there. It's a long stay."

She presses you face-first between her cheeks. The fabric gives, the flesh gives, and then both close around you, hot and slick with sweat, sealing your head into darkness. Her fingers push from behind, firm and steady, and your shoulders, chest, and hips slide in after your head. The grip shifts to your ankles, and one last shove sends you up to your waist in hot, clamping flesh. Then she lets go of your legs, and the cheeks swallow the rest with a soft, wet shift.

You're inside. Total dark. Heat pressing from every side, sweat-slick walls squeezing you snug, the sour stench thick enough to taste. Somewhere above you, deep in the dark, her stomach growls.

grrrrr... rrrbl...

Her voice reaches you muffled through the flesh around you, amused and completely relaxed.

"C snug? Wiggle once if you can hear me."

You wiggle. The cheeks squeeze tighter in reply.

"Good. I've got errands today. You're coming with me."

You feel her stand, the whole world shifting as she rises, gravity settling you deeper. Then she pats her own rear with one hand, right over where your feet disappeared.

prrrt

A hot, humid puff rolls over you from above, thick and foul in the sealed dark.

"That one's a welcome gift. The rest are just natural."

The load settles. You're six inches tall again, standing on a floorboard in a dim bedroom. The door opens across the room, and the footsteps start. Heavy, slow, deliberate thuds shaking the boards under you. Chara crosses the room and stops a few feet away, looking down at you with that permanent grin.

"Small again. Good. This file's my favorite warm-up."

She steps back, balances on one foot, and slides off her left shoe, then the right. Both land on their sides with a hollow thump. The smell reaches you from here, a sour cloud of baked sweat drifting off the dark openings. Then she hooks a finger into each black stocking and peels them down her legs, slow, one at a time. The nylon comes away faintly damp, and she drops them in a crumpled heap beside her shoes.

Bare feet it is. Stockings just get in the way of the good part.

She walks toward you barefoot. Her sole slaps the wood with each step, and you can see the faint sheen of sweat on her heel and toes. She stops with her foot directly above you, hovering, her sole filling the sky.

"Nothing personal. Well. Actually, it's entirely personal."

Her foot comes down.

The sole covers you completely, warm, damp, and soft, pressing you flat against the floorboard. The smell is thick and immediate, sour sweat and warm skin sealing over your whole body. Her weight settles in, grinding slightly.

-22 Damage!

The number flashes red above her ankle. Your HP bar drops from 99/99 to 77/99.

She lifts her foot. You peel off the sole and land on your back on the board, aching all over, flattened but breathing.

"Look at that. Seventy-seven left. You've got what, six more of me in you?"

She raises her foot again, toes wiggling, and her grin widens.

"Let's find out."

The load drops you onto the floorboard again, six inches tall, and Chara is already crouched in front of you, chin resting on her hand, watching you get your bearings.

"There it is. The swallow file."

Her fingers close around you before you can take a step, plucking you off the floor and lifting you up to her face. Her breath washes over you, warm and faintly sweet, and her grin stretches wide enough that you can see all the way back to her molars.

"I've been looking forward to this one. Sixty-seven kills, and the whole thing ends up as a snack."

They fit so neatly in one hand. It's almost funny.

She raises you above her open mouth and lets her tongue roll out, pink and wet, glistening in the dim light. She presses you down onto it, and the taste of you registers on her face immediately. Her eyes flutter half closed.

"Salty. Hm. Sweat and dust. Very you."

She pulls you in and closes her lips around your legs, sucking slowly, her tongue sliding across your chest and face, coating you in warm saliva. The heat is total. Her breath cycles around you in the dark of her cheeks, damp and heavy.

glrrrp... gloop...

The sound comes from somewhere below you, deep in her throat and further, her stomach already waking up.

Then she tilts her head back, and her throat opens.

The swallow pulls you in feet-first, her tongue pressing you back against the soft ridge of her palate, and the muscles take over from there. Tight, slick walls grip you and drag you down in one long, slow wave. You feel her swallow again to hurry you along, the squeeze traveling over your whole body.

Gulp.

You drop into her stomach with a wet splash, into a pit of churning heat and acid-tinged air, the walls kneading around you on all sides. Above, muffled through layers of flesh, you hear her sigh contentedly and pat her belly, which is now just slightly rounded where you sit inside it.

grrrrr... rrrbl... glorp...

"There you are. Right where sixty-seven monsters ended up. Just, smaller. And slower."

She settles back against the bed, hands folded over her stomach, and gives it a lazy squeeze.

BRRRRP

A long belch rolls up out of her, shaking the walls around you and fogging the chamber with hot, sour air.

"Excuse me. You're going to want to get comfortable. I reload on my schedule, not yours."

The load drops you somewhere warm and wet, and this time Chara doesn't catch you. You fall straight down her throat in the dark, squeezed along by slick muscle, and land with a splash in her stomach. The chamber closes around you immediately, walls folding in, kneading, testing.

Then the acid starts.

It's not a flood. It seeps up around you first, warm and faintly sour-smelling, tingling against your skin like a nettle. Then the tingle becomes a sting. Then a burn, low and steady, spreading across every inch of you at once.

Your HP bar flickers into view at the corner of your vision.

99/99. Then 97/99. Then 94/99. The numbers tick down in slow, even bites, and the bar itself has gone a dull purple, refusing to refill no matter how long you wait.

KR. Fitting, for this file.

Outside, Chara has settled onto her back on the bed, one hand resting on the small swell of her belly. She can feel every squirm, and she's narrating them to herself like a scorecard.

"Still lively. That's cute. Give it a minute."

grrrrr... rrrbl... glorp...

The walls squeeze in a slow wave, pressing fresh acid against you from every direction. The burn climbs. Your HP drops to 81/99, then 76/99, the drain never pausing, never spiking, just grinding down at its own patient pace.

She pats her stomach, and the impact sloshes the pool around you.

BRRRRP

A short belch rattles the chamber, fogging the air hotter and thicker.

"There's no mercy button in there. I checked. You're just going to sit in my gut and count down with yourself. Seventy-six. Seventy-five. I can feel you getting slower."

She laces her fingers over her belly and closes her eyes, completely at ease, letting her body do the work for her.

glrrrp... plorp... brrrg...

"Take as long as you need. The file saves after, you know. I can replay the whole digestion from the top whenever I get bored."

TW: SCAT!!!

The load drops you somewhere new. Hot, tight, and pitch black, walls squeezing you from every side in slow, rolling waves. You're deep in her intestines, past the stomach, wedged in the dark of her colon. The air is thick, humid, and reeks, a heavy, sour, earthy stench that coats the back of your throat the second you breathe. The walls around you are slick with something softer than sweat.

Outside, Chara is stretched out on the bed, one hand resting on her lower belly.

"Oh, good. It loaded. You're in the home stretch now. Well. The home stretch is you, technically."

This file's the finale. Everything ends in the toilet eventually.

The walls clench and push, dragging you downward inch by inch. The deeper you go, the thicker the air gets, the smell shifting from sour to something far worse, dense and rotten, the smell of what's coming next.

gloop... plorp... rrrbl...

Her stomach growls above you, and the whole tunnel ripples.

"Feel that? That's pressure. Mine and yours."

She sits up, then stands, and the shift in gravity slides you further down. She walks to the middle of the room, plants her feet apart, and squats. The cheeks you know so well lower toward the floorboards, and the flesh around you compresses as she bears down.

prrrt... frrrrrt... brrrrrt

A hot, foul blast rolls over you from above, thick enough to taste, sour and rotten.

"That's your cue."

The walls grip you and push, firm and unhurried, and the dark space around you fills as she keeps going. You're carried down with the rest of it, packed in warm, soft filth, the stench total, until the heat of her cheeks closes over the whole mess and squeezes tight.

BRRRRRRRRT

One last long, deafening barrage tears out beneath you, shaking the walls on every side.

-9,999,999 Damage!

Your SOUL cracks apart in the dark, buried in the warm mess, and above you Chara sighs, satisfied, patting her belly.

"And that's the whole run. Sixty-seven kills, start to finish. I'd say you came full circle, but really, you came out the other end of it."

She stands, rolls her shoulders, and raises one hand. The world begins to tear at the edges, ready to wind everything back.

"Same time in a few minutes?"

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