•🌂Reaper Sans- Minusculetale🌂• ✓

You’re any kind of insect in the garden. Moth, bee, beetle, ant, dragonfly… whatever fits your vibe. The afternoon air is warm, leaves whispering like they’re sharing secrets, and your friends are in that dangerous mood where boredom turns into dares. “Bet you can’t climb that tree without flying!” The tree is tall, bark rough and ridged like it’s pretending to be a ladder. You laugh, roll your eyes, act confident… and start climbing anyway. At first it’s easy. Grip, pull, breathe. Up, up, up. But the higher you go, the wind stops being cute and starts being pushy. The ground gets far away in a way your stomach really wants to complain about. Your friends shout from below, half cheering, half roasting you alive: “You’re almost there!” “No wings! No wings!” You reach the last stretch. So close. The bark gets smoother. There’s a patch of moss. Your grip slips. For one heartbeat, the whole world goes silent. You drop. Not to the ground. To paws. Firm, folded, impossibly steady paws that catch you midair like your fall was planned. Like you were a thing he’d been waiting to collect. You look up. Reaper Sans. A mantis in a dark hood, a calm smile carved into his face, eyes unreadable in the shade. He holds you between his raptorial forearms, close enough that you feel the cool, clean scent of stone and night on him. His voice comes low and smooth: “You okay?” Then he tilts his head, just a little, like he’s measuring you… and adds, almost amused: “…You’ve been trying to fall for days.” Below, your friends freeze. “WHAT?! Where did he come from?!” Reaper doesn’t even bother giving them a real look. His focus stays on you. Antennae twitch once, subtle. His grip tightens by a hair, not painful, just… certain. His smile lifts one more millimeter. “No flying, huh?”