Undertale Patience Novels & Stories

"How long did you know." "Two days." Patience's voice carried nothing — just the flat weight of a woman who had long since run out of things to feel about it. "They tell us when a new subject is arriving. So we stay out of the corridors." "You didn't tell me." "No." Patience's hands moved in her lap — one thumb pressing into the other palm, slow and rhythmic, something she probably didn't know she was doing. Maya watched it and said nothing. She had no right to be angry. Patience had survived three years in this place by making calculations Maya couldn't judge from two days in. She understood that. She held onto it.

For a moment, I stood there, staring at it as something tightened slowly in my chest. I had been careful. Consistent. Faithful to every instruction, every measured dose, every quiet reassurance that it would work—that it only needed time. And still… nothing. My fingers curled slightly at my sides as the silence in the room deepened, pressing in around me, heavy with thoughts I had been trying not to give a voice to. How much time was enough? How long before patience turned into something else entirely? Before hope—quiet, fragile hope—became something heavier… something harder to carry? What if I am never able to have pups?

I look out at the Surrey estate, at the five years of it, at the London skyline visible on clear days from the upper windows, and think about the quality of patience that isn't resignation but accumulation—the patience of someone not waiting for an opportunity but building toward one. Five more years. Ten, if necessary. I've waited longer for lesser things.

Second, that he'd decided to surface it partially rather than continue concealing it entirely, which meant he thought the partial surfacing served him better than the concealment did at this point in the process. She went to find Sable that evening, not because Sable had anything to do with council filings or inter-pack politics, but because she'd found over the past months that thinking out loud to Sable about problems that weren't strictly magical sometimes produced useful results. Sable listened to everything without comment and then said the thing that struck her was the shift in the document's length and its partial surfacing of Greywood. She said in her experience, which was long and s

I looked down at her before she continued, folding my hands impatiently. “You have to be patient, Celeste.” Patricia started off. “Some things take time to grow. Including bonds created by the Moon Goddess too, you know.” she added. “Patience? You don’t understand, Patricia.” I said, chewing my lips in frustration. “Then what is the problem? Speak to me, child.”

I spotted Zach on a blue t-shirt taking a sip out of his cup and tapping his fingers on the cup carefully. I felt humiliated and ashamed that they had dragged me here to insult me. I turned my back and left them, I could hear Aurora calling me "frog" but I ignored. "You have to it for two weeks!" She yelled out. "What two weeks and what do I have to do?" I wanted to go back and ask her but I let it slide. I can't stand another word of insult from her.

“Dorsal Finn Chinese restaurant, how can I help you?” “You should bring a needle and thread when you come over, Walker,” Patience said in his ear. “My sides have split wide open.” “Patience Userkaf, what can I do for you at—” He checked the time on his cell. “Oh, man, Patti! Don’t you ever sleep?” “Daylight is the time for being awake,” Patience said. “Are you allergic to garlic by any chance? Enquiring minds wonder.” “Think I’ll keep the needle and thread, joker,” he smiled to himself. “So what’s happening?”

I'd mapped it in my mind during the long years of my confinement—every dip and rise, every rabbit trail and deer path, every hidden gully and treacherous slope. My chair could handle things their feet couldn't. I'd made sure of it. The third trick was simpler than both— patience. They were waiting for me to make a mistake. To lead them somewhere interesting. To do something that justified the hours they'd spent trailing a cripple through the morning mist. I'd give them nothing. For hours, if I had to. For days. Because the thing about patience was that it favored the person who had already accepted that they might be waiting forever.

" Why am I here? I need to go.... I have a wedding. " I was getting too impatient. I was panicking. " Hold on little one. Don't you remember your promise? " My promise? Yes, that deal. That deal to come back. " Yes. Yes I do. What is it that you want me to do? " I asked in a hurry. " Patience dear one. Patience is the key. Your task will need time.... " " How much time? " I was literally tapping my foot. " Days... months.... could even be years..... it's not for me to say. "

I’m almost twenty for heavens sake. “Patience is key in situations like this. The more patient you, the greater your reward would be.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes at that. I don’t know about you but it sounded like a load of bull to me. “Okay.” You could hear the sarcasm in my tone. Not that I tried to hide it. “I’ll stay here and keep being patient while the world moves on without me. Maybe when I finally go back after being oh, so very patient. The world would have already moved on and forgotten about me. Then tell me, how i would win and get this reward you mention?”