[Their swing halts, pulls back sharply. The knife makes its feeble passage through the empty air between them.]
Frisk.
You don't get to pretend this is hard. We were there together, were we not? When you conquered someone Undying. When Toriel, when Papyrus, when Mettaton fell at your hand. When Asgore did not receive mercy. You know what a real swing feels like.
I will not "get back." I refuse to do what you tell me. So put me in my place, Frisk. You have it in you. Even when I'm not there to take the blame, you have it in you.
[They tug harder on the locket. Tighten their grip. Offer a little less breathing room. A reminder which of them is in a position to make the rules, and which one is... ha ha. Which one is at their mercy.]
no subject
Frisk.
You don't get to pretend this is hard. We were there together, were we not? When you conquered someone Undying. When Toriel, when Papyrus, when Mettaton fell at your hand. When Asgore did not receive mercy. You know what a real swing feels like.
I will not "get back." I refuse to do what you tell me. So put me in my place, Frisk. You have it in you. Even when I'm not there to take the blame, you have it in you.
[They tug harder on the locket. Tighten their grip. Offer a little less breathing room. A reminder which of them is in a position to make the rules, and which one is... ha ha. Which one is at their mercy.]