Alright. Let's get this train wreck going, shall we? Fanfiction^2 is a genre we never expected to explore outside idle thoughts, but here we are. Thanks go to XWolf26 for writing DoubleTale DoubleScramble, as well as providing feedback, and our friend Ari, who helped edit. In case the title and the last few sentences weren't clear enough, this story is going to explore what would happen if a DoubleKid found themselves being pulled into a DoubleScramble timeline.

Disclaimer: We don't own Undertale, DoubleTale, or DoubleScramble

When I awoke that fateful morning, I was surrounded by strange whispers, glowing blue petals, and walls of stone. My eyes were assaulted by the deadly laser we call the sun as I cracked them open, causing me to wince and screw them shut again. I groaned as I forced myself to sit up and open my eyes, noting that my body felt stiff and sore all over. Apparently a flower bed wasn't a great place to take a nap. Go figure. My mind was a whirling storm of questions as I took in the sloped cavern walls around me, my gaze trailing up towards the glowing hole in the ceiling. Had I fallen down? I sure felt like I had, at least, but something about that didn't add up. Last I checked, the city didn't have a massive cave just laying around, waiting for people to fall in like the start of some played-out RPG trope.

The strangely familiar bed of flora I was sat upon only added to the feeling that something wasn't right. I caught faint traces of words echoing from the petals, a child's voice arguing with someone I couldn't hear. I shook my head and slowly climbed to my feet, deciding I wasn't awake enough to deal with whatever questions this freaky patch of weeds was going to raise. A quick glance over myself revealed that, good news, I wasn't bleeding or horribly maimed by Schrödinger's Fall. The bad news, however, was that I was horrifically underdressed for today's bullshit. A pair of instant ramen cup pajama bottoms wouldn't exactly be the sturdiest defense against whatever half-baked adventure my sleeping mind had cooked up for me.

Chapter One: Half-Baked Hero
 "What kind of look is that? All these monsters down here, and you're really that terrified of me?"

*Get a move on.

"Can't a girl admire her pajamas in peace?" I huffed as my train of thought was rudely interrupted by a white-bordered, black text box. I frowned and stuffed my hands in the pockets of my white and red hoodie, moving to do as I'd been told while the text box berated me.

*Go find a mirror if you want to gawk at yourself.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the flower bed tod-agh!" I yelped as I tripped, my face slamming painfully into the dirt not even a full minute after standing up. I could swear the flowers were laughing at me in their faint, whispering tones as I looked down to see what little shit had the balls to trip me. Staring back up at me was…a shoddily made replica greatsword. The wavering, dull gold blade lacked any cutting edge, and the set of runes that was supposed to be engraved up its length was just the first couple runes lazily copy-pasted over and over. The crossguard resembled a cross between a sun and a sunflower, a crescent moon smiling up at me from its center. The whole thing was full of rough edges that I could remember scraping my knuckles against while fucking around with it countless times. Last time I ever bought convention junk.

*Smooth.

"Shut up, flavor text." I grumbled as I scooped up the sword and stood back up, thankful that I was wearing my work boots…for some reason. What had I even been doing before I woke up again? Wait, wasn't this just a dream? My thoughts felt muddied and slow, which only made the sense of deja vu that crept over me as I moved on that much more frustrating. The empty chamber with another spotlight and patch of grass didn't really provide any hints, but the room after it felt a bit more familiar.

Walls of lavender brickwork towered over me, holding up a similar hued ceiling. Scarlet leaves were scattered around the ground, a massive pile of them resting between a pair of staircases which led to the next doorway. My eyes were instantly drawn to the glowing golden star which hovered over the pile, and before I knew it, the rest of me was drawn to it as well. I instinctively reached out to touch it, and felt all my fatigue and soreness be banished by the strange heat that built up in my chest.

*Faint memories echo from within as you gaze upon the Ruins, filling you with Determination. HP fully restored.

The mention of HP caught my attention as I read the strange message. On a hunch, I concentrated, thinking about menu buttons, stat pages, and the like. To my shock, I was actually greeted with a large black panel with white edges and text. It was even coherent, rather than the assortment of nonsense statistics like "dorselessness" and "moxie" I'd been expecting. Lucid dreaming had been a weird experiment.

Marian

LV 1
HP 20/20

AT 2 (12) EXP: 0
DF 1 (4) NEXT: 10

WEAPON: Faux Tournesol
ARMOR: White Mage Hoodie

GOLD: 0

"...even in my dreams I'm broke…" I mumbled, sighing and shaking my head as I made my way further into the Ruins. As I navigated the lavender halls, things began to feel…off. Some of the chambers were filled with puzzles…but they'd already been solved. Dust was scattered about the halls…but it glimmered strangely in the light, and it was piled up in odd places. Though there were well-kept flowers and shrubbery lining some of the halls, shelves full of anime memorabilia, and various knicknacks scattered about, there wasn't a soul in sight. The silence, isolation and the occasional signs of a struggle here and there only added onto the pervasive sense that something wasn't right with this place.

Eventually, I came upon a small home at the end of the long and winding set of corridors, with a massive tree full of red leaves keeping a silent vigil in the front yard. Stepping around the tree and making my way towards the quaint little house, I noticed another glowing star hovering nearby. I felt the strange warmth return as I brushed my hand against it, prompting another message to appear.

*The desire for answers fills you with Determination. HP fully restored.

"Is my HP really being restored if I haven't lost any yet?" I nervously questioned my text box as I pushed through the already-open door. I glanced down the empty hallways that stretched out to either side while stepping through the doorway, my grip on the hilt of my shitty sword tightening. The place looked like it'd seen better days, with bits of scratched paint and scorched wood paneling almost making me wonder if the place was abandoned. The lack of dust and the warm lighting didn't give me much hope that the answer would be that simple.

*Shut up and keep moving, smart-ass.

"No fun at all, I swear…" I mumbled to myself, deciding to head down the hallway to my left. The living room probably would've felt cozy if there were people here to watch the old tube TV, or lounge around on the lumpy old couch. The stack of dishes next to the couch made me wonder if I wasn't alone in the house, but I got the nagging sense that I wouldn't be seeing the owner any time soon. I peeked my head into the tiny kitchen, noting the cold bowl of instant noodles sitting on the counter near a mountain of dirty dishes.

"Whoever was here must've had to leave in a hurry..."

*Who cares? Raid the fridge and get going.

"Fine, dick." I snapped, pulling open the fridge and staring inside it. It was mostly filled with energy drinks, soda, and low-effort foodstuffs. Just like back home. At my text box's insistence, I snagged one of the energy drinks and damn near jumped out of my skin as it vanished from my hand. Checking my inventory in the same way I'd managed to pull up my stats, I noticed I had three energy drinks. The sight of the extra drinks stirred up hazy memories of what I'd been doing before waking up. I recalled tugging my loosely tied boots on in the wee hours of the morning. The scent of gasoline hanging in the chilly air outside the shitty convenience store. Cans of fizzy caffeine sludge clinking against each other in the plastic bag as I strolled through back alleys. The memories weren't quite as helpful as I would've liked, but they at least explained my outfit.

*Quit procrastinating.

I frowned and scooped up more of the energy drinks, filling my inventory before retracing my steps to the front door. I looked between the stairs leading down and the other hallway, trying to ignore the creeping dread.

*Down.

"Ahhh, shit…" I groaned, taking a few deep breaths to psyche myself up before heading down the creepy-ass, dark and foreboding staircase. I crept down the long corridor, shivering as I slowly turned the corner…only to stop dead in my tracks as I stared at a proverbial smoking gun. A pile of bloody dust sat in front of a heavy-looking set of double doors, a torn-up purple and white bath robe buried in it. The sense of familiarity, the dread, and the gamey bullshit all clicked together as I stared intensely at the closest thing to a dead body I'd ever seen outside of video games. I was in Undertale. During a fucking Genocide route, at that.

*Took you long enough.

"...you aren't helping, text box…" I sourly replied, rubbing at the bags underneath my eyes as I debated the merits of pinching myself and skipping out on what was sure to be a messed up dream. On one hand, I wouldn't have to deal with the squinty, homicidal maniac on the loose, while I was armed with nothing but a shitty replica sword. On the other, I did apparently have a Save File, and just loaded my inventory up with healing items. My stats and gear were trash, but assuming the dream wasn't gonna just end the first time I died, I decided I could at least give stopping Frisk a shot.

*...yeah, sure, let's go with that.

In spite of my grumbling, I felt the corners of my mouth slowly pull themselves up into a dopey, excited grin as I stepped around the dust pile and made my way out into the rest of the underground. It'd been a while since I'd had a lucid dream, and I figured playing hero in a quirky little RPG world could be fun.

*Don't get too excited there, you still suck.

"So what? All RPG protags suck at level one, that's part of the charm." I shrugged, shouldering my cheap-ass weapon and idly scanning the treeline as snow crunched beneath my boots.

*And you're stuck there.

"The hell're you talking about? I could just go…grind…oh. Right…" I lamely trailed off.

*You just remember what LV stands for in this game?

"...shit…that kinda throws a wrench into the works, don't it? Undertale had permanent stat boosting items, right?" I asked, noting the strangely shaped lamp as I traipsed down the snowy path.

*Does murder count?

"Well, shit…there's still the chance to nab better gear?" I ventured, before grimacing as a panicked scream erupted from further ahead before abruptly cutting off. Whatever my text box had to say went ignored as I sprinted into the clearing with the item box, kicking up snow as I skidded to a stop and stared at the final boss. The kid…looked a lot less like a kid than I'd been expecting, all told. While I wasn't the tallest girl out there, they were still only an inch or two shorter, if that, and I was a grown-ass adult…hobbies notwithstanding. They were busy tightening a dust-covered leather glove over their right hand when I burst onto the scene, and were now staring at me over their shoulder with a pair of bored-looking maroon eyes.

"...you aren't supposed to be here." Frisk stated with an air of certainty that could only come from a time looping demigod that treats wiping out an entire species like a speed run. I could physically feel their gaze on me, the weight of their killing intent enough to put me on edge.

"A-And you aren't supposed to be killing people, but...uhh...here we are…?" I clumsily fired back, not having to look to tell that my text box was less than pleased with my delivery.

"How I play the game is none of your business." They took a step forward, squaring their shoulders and narrowing their eyes as the atmosphere around us grew heavier, as if the whole world was being reduced to just this stretch of snow and trees.

"It is when you're killing innocent people." I snapped back while taking my shitty sword in both hands and tensing up as I saw Frisk do the same, their face twisting into an angry sneer.

"Save your platitudes for someone with the luxury of choice!" Frisk cried out before closing the distance between us in a startlingly short span of time. They proceeded to bury their fist in my gut, knocking the wind out of me alongside a worrying chunk of my HP. Before I could recover they followed it up with an uppercut that smashed my jaw back shut, and finished with a snap kick that cracked a rib or two as it sent me tumbling a few yards away from them. A shaky glance at my HP confirmed what my torso and face were already telling me. 9/20. I did my best to ignore the agony my ribs were in as I climbed to my feet, panic making my knees shake as I struggled to comprehend why I was in so much pain inside of a dream. I used Tournesol to prop myself up while I spat blood and probably a few teeth out onto the snow.

"Y...Y-You hit like a bitch…" I weakly taunted as Frisk sauntered closer, a vicious grin overtaking their expression as they admired their handiwork. I took a few shaky steps towards them and took a clumsy swing at their head, fully intent on wiping that malicious smirk off their face. The kid ducked my swing with ease and returned the favor with a quick jab that crushed my nose and sent me stumbling back a few more paces.

"And you don't hit at all, do you?" Frisk mocked, their eyes gleaming the same malevolent crimson as their soul as they lazily sidestepped another awkward chop from my sword, before hopping back a few feet away as I followed up with a horizontal swing that nearly sent me stumbling. I let the heavy-ass sword rest tip first in the ground as I fished an energy drink from my inventory and cracked it open one-handed. Frisk stared unblinking as I hastily chugged the hell sludge, feeling my nose set itself back into place while the cracks in my ribs sealed up.

My fingers twitched a little as I tossed the can aside and took up my sword in both hands again, nervously meeting Frisk's predatory gaze. My knuckles turned white as I gripped Tournesol tighter. I rushed in and stumbled at the unexpected increase in my own speed, botching my attempted stab at their torso. The murderous freak allowed themselves a chuckle at my expense as they danced around my 'attack'. Before I could recover they lashed out with a snap kick that forced my knee to bend at an angle it was very clearly not intended to, and I cried out in agony. Before I could properly crumple to the ground, my throat became intimately familiar with the contours of Frisk's gloved fist as they crushed my windpipe like styrofoam, following through with their brutal right hook and sending me ass over tea kettle into the snow.

"If you aren't gonna make things interesting, don't bother coming back." They warned, the mirth in their eyes having been replaced by disdain as they watched me writhe on the ground. They turned and walked further into the woods while I continued to gasp for breath, black spots filling my vision as my HP dwindled. My panicked red eyes desperately searched for something, anything that could save me as I clawed at my brutalized throat. The cold seeped into my bones as the pale blue soul hovering over my chest began to chip and crack, before finally shattering as my HP hit zero and darkness overtook me.

Consider favoriting, following, and/or reviewing if you enjoyed this strange little experiment.

Edit (10/21/22): Went back to touch this chapter up a bit now that the first major arc is done. These first couple chapters were written back when this story didn't really have much thought put into its future, and was just an excuse to experiment writing a continuous narrative. Hope y'all like the new version of the chapter.

Edit (11/16/23): We did it again! Because procrastination makes perfect, and chapter 17 is kicking our ass. Also there's just been general improvements made to all the current chapters, some from when we ported the story to Archive of Our Own, and some from much more recently. Not all the chapters will be changing as much as these first few, but hopefully what changes we do make will help make the experience of reading DoubleTime a bit nicer for new folks.

We're TiredWhiteMayge, and we need to go get some damn sleep.