[Little cracks in their voice that are always there, in a way - the soft-sandpaper sound of vocal chords hovering at an eternal cusp of pubescence, one they'll probably never see, but now they're frozen and brittle and painful in Frisk's throat, and breaking. Gouging holes in their voice, their throat. Them.]
[Everything's broken. Everything's breaking. Frisk's and Chara's fault, but mostly Frisk's.]
[And Tim's trying to fix it. Why does he get to try and fix it? Why doesn't Sans, or their mom, or their dad, or Toriel? Why does he care and they don't? Why --]
[Frisk sinks down, burying their eye into their palm, and hug their elbow meekly. Their knife feels like an anchor.]
no subject
[Little cracks in their voice that are always there, in a way - the soft-sandpaper sound of vocal chords hovering at an eternal cusp of pubescence, one they'll probably never see, but now they're frozen and brittle and painful in Frisk's throat, and breaking. Gouging holes in their voice, their throat. Them.]
[Everything's broken. Everything's breaking. Frisk's and Chara's fault, but mostly Frisk's.]
[And Tim's trying to fix it. Why does he get to try and fix it? Why doesn't Sans, or their mom, or their dad, or Toriel? Why does he care and they don't? Why --]
[Frisk sinks down, burying their eye into their palm, and hug their elbow meekly. Their knife feels like an anchor.]
Stop telling me how not to hurt!