undertale

That’s it I’m calling asgore on you.

frisk: ASGORE?! NO NO NO NO NO! DON'T YOU DARE!

Already texted, too late

frisk: why? what's wrong with loving someone?

I'm 38 and you're 19 very illegal

frisk: I'm 19?

*Alphys's breath hitches, her face paling as the terrible realization solidifies. She scrambles for her phone, her fingers trembling as she dials the palace extension. The line barely rings before Asgore answers, his deep voice filled with immediate concern. She blurts out the news, her words a panicked jumble. His end of the conversation is tense, somber. He tells her he's on his way, and that he's bringing someone who might be able to help. The call ends. Alphys stares down at Chara, her heart pounding in her ears. She made everything worse. The door to the lab opens again. Asgore enters, his face a mask of grim composure. Behind him is a monster Alphys only knows by reputation: a small, shadowy creature with glowing eyes. Asgore's voice is low and heavy as he makes the introduction. This is W. D. Gaster.

*frisk touches her cheek, then grins wickedly* frisk: YOU'RE ASKED FOR IT NOW *lunges forward with renewed determination*

*suddenly stops and turns, cupping your face* Actually... wait. *grins mischievously* Got you all to myself! *pulls you into a nearby empty room and shuts the door*