I was thinking of making a post to explain this and have a cut so nobody would have to read it if they chose not to, but there’s no need. The announcement is something that pretty much everyone who still remembered my existence saw coming, and that is that I will not be continuing roleplaying on this blog. I might use it sometimes for certain things, but consider the blog on permanent hiatus.
There have been a lot of things happening lately, both IRL and online, so perhaps when things clear up, which they will, I might come back. Who knows? Now that I’m on antidepressants I can start fixing my own mental state and maybe then fix the other things I damaged.
I want anyone reading this to know that I appreciate you. This blog is what led me to make the best decision of my life, and because of that the past nine months were probably the best of my life. I discovered a lot of things about myself and made some great friends along the way. I only hope that I can get better and make things right. Thank you all.
Part two as promised. By this point, Sans and Mettaton were married after Mettaton had remembered him throughout the timelines and remembering the way they were. The Mettaton roleplayer chose the font name for the child, who is a small, purple ghost; blue and pink making a purple. @mettabutt is that roleplayer, and they were the Gaster, too. Sans is the one in control of the timeline since his Determination overpowered that of Frisk, who is now MIA after he wrenched control from them.
Once again, enjoy the read. This one is sad, with dark themes. Trigger warning for child death and potentially suicide depending on your interpretation. If anything needs tagging, please message me.
The battle was lost almost as quickly as it had started. The Hatefallen parasite was spreading fast. People were dead or dying. Even the incorporeal weren’t immune to it. A soul parasite, Hatefallen fed on the very essence of the being. Monsters, humans, all fell to it. The afflicted spiralled into a state of pure hatred, Hatefallen causing them to lose all their emotions but sadness or anger as it fed. Waterborne at first, then transmitted through magic. Magic, the culmination of a monster’s soul essence, the one thing most of them had. Healing magic, offensive magic, all of it spread the parasite. By the time they knew what they were dealing with it was too late.
Sans had watched his friends succumb to the parasite. Twisted by their own hatred, they had struck him. He never succumbed. The Determination in his soul protected him from it, the parasite couldn’t take hold. Sans was watching the world burn around him. His husband was away on business, his daughter was at home with him. He could only pray for Mettaton’s safety. As the days passed, Sans noticed something different about Mettaton during their video calls. It didn’t take long to realise what. Mettaton had been infected. He had watched his friends, and now his husband succumb to Hatefallen. That was the final straw. Sans had been holding out, waiting for a cure. He knew what would happen. He knew how this worked. He had tried to find other options, anything that would stop him from doing the one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do, but now Mettaton was in danger. Mustering all the Determination he could, Sans shouted one last anguished “fuck you” to the world before slamming his hand down over the reset button hovering before him.
Nothing. The world didn’t reset. Frantically, Sans hit the button over and over, becoming more panicked with each. It wasn’t working. He didn’t have the Determination that he had the first time. There was only one person close enough who might be able to help. The one who was helping him research the parasite. Sans teleported to the basement of his house in Snowdin, where Gaster was still working. Trying to calm down, Sans explained. Gaster stared at him in silence for a moment, before explaining that there was one final option. A monster can’t absorb a monster soul, but the determination of one soul can be imparted to another, and Gaster knew how. He warned Sans that it would have grave consequences, but it was all they could do to save everyone. With a silent exchange of nods, Gaster used his Determination to alter the very code of the universe. He merged his line of code with Sans’, changing it to give Sans his Determination. Sans turned to see the reset button appearing behind him in response to the newfounds Determination, but turning back to face Gaster once he was finished hit Sans with horrific shock. His father had dusted. Sans wasted no time in pressing the reset button to bring him back. The world shifted, and everything reset. Sans’ position was unchanged, but as he turned, expecting to see that Gaster had reset, but saw the same pile of dust. He fell to his knees, tears hitting the concrete floor below him. Gaster had corrupted his code by changing it, the reset removing his consciousness from the universe. This time, he wasn’t in any void. Gaster was gone. With a heavy heart, Sans had to finish this. As Sans left, Gaster’s dust was caught in the wind blowing through the door to the basement, carried outside.
The parasite was native, it was reset to its origin. Everyone was cured. Sans had once again saved everyone. This time, he was able to stop it before it started. He teleported to the surface and killed the parasite before it could infect anyone. He had thought he understood the reset. That through his Determination, the one who didn’t exist at the point in time that the reset would drag them back to would be saved. Sans returned home, expecting his daughter to be there. She wasn’t. After the initial shock and panic of thinking she was erased, Sans entered the save menu to find her waiting for him. Her code was corrupted, she had suffered the same fate as Gaster because of his Determination. Perhaps it was better, at least Sans could care for her in the save menu.
Mettaton was the first agenda. He had remembered before, so surely he remembered now. That optimism quickly melted into disbelief and anguish when Sans found him. Mettaton didn’t remember. His memories had been reset to this point. Sans didn’t know where he was in the reset, so he couldn’t preserve his memories. The memoires that Sans had collected and the note from Mettaton himself would be enough to convince him, and their daughter who didn’t exist would be more than enough to help him remember, so Sans had a backup. As Sans reached for the memoires, his world collapsed further. They weren’t there. The photographs, the note, all gone. He had no proof of timelines past, no proof of the love they shared, nothing he could convince Mettaton that they were married with besides the ring on his own finger. Sans had to find another way to make Mettaton remember, and care for his daughter at the same time. Elsewhere, Gaster’s dust shifted. Gaster was gone, but his code was still there, albeit corrupted. Interlaced with Sans’ code, a new entity was born.
Sans’ hesitation about resetting was for a good reason. He knew what would happen. He knew that resetting created another universe that had never reset. What he didn’t know was that the timeline copy of himself didn’t simply disappear. Somewhere across time and space, Sans broke down as he realised that he couldn’t reach the save file, the problem wasn’t Determination. He couldn’t reset. They had lost.
Sans had to watch the world burn around him. Still immune to Hatefallen, he watched everyone he cared about become ghosts of their former selves, eventually dying. Even those evacuated eventually began to succumb, it was spreading through their barriers via those in denial. Sans never evacuated. When he found out that his daughter had been infected too, there was no point. He was immune. His brother was dead, his husband was infected and slowly changing, and now his daughter had been infected. What hope was there? Sans cared for Mistral alone as she deteriorated, hoping that Mettaton would come home and he could be with his family in their final moments. Video calls with Mettaton had stopped weeks ago, Hatefallen had twisted him. When news reached Sans that Mettaton had died to it, his final hope vanished. His Determination failed him. The Determination dissipated, leaving Sans with nothing but a daughter who was slowly succumbing to Hatefallen, and the inevitable loomed over him like the dark shroud of Death’s robe. Sans only slipped deeper into a state of depression. All he did was care for Mistral. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep. The rest of the hotel was empty, all its inhabitants either fled or died, and the surrounding houses were abandoned. They were truly alone.
When his daughter was in the deepest stages of Hatefallen, Sans knew it was the end. As his daughter lay dying in his arms, Sans allowed himself to be hit by her magic. He could have dodged it as he always did, but this time he didn’t want to. Everything he cared about was gone. What was the point? As the parasite latched onto his soul, he kissed his daughter on the forehead, watching her close her eyes one last time. Her dust slipped through his fingers.
Walking away from the hotel with a jar of dust, Sans didn’t look back. It was too painful. He didn’t know where he was going, but at this point he didn’t care. He would eventually be the last to succumb to Hatefallen, becoming twisted and filled with hatred. The parasite had won, and Sans had reached acceptance. For days he walked, and everywhere he went there were abandoned buildings and ghost towns. Human bodies often littered the streets where they had either killed each other in hatred or died to the parasite, and in previously more densely-populated areas by monsters, the air was dusty and dry. None of this shocked Sans. He couldn’t feel shock any more. Everywhere he looked he saw Mettaton. The human corpses became Mettaton lying in the street. The neon signs were the signs on the hotel. Every song still playing in the empty streets was their song. When he tripped over a body and saw Mettaton lying on the ground at his feet, all he could feel was numb. Hatefallen had taken all of his emotions besides despair, and by now despair was numbness. This was just another human.
...But it wasn’t. When the image didn’t fade into a human body, Sans realised it wasn’t in his mind. This was the empty body of his husband. The soul container was dark, but a thin layer of dust lined the inside. Mettaton had died in his body. Sans sat next to the body, stroking its hair and crying for what felt like hours, before lying down, cuddling closely against it with Mistral’s dust between them, and he waited for Hatefallen to take him.
This is something I wrote a while ago for the Discord RP server. It’s my Sans’ backstory, and the premise is that throughout the timelines, he was in love with Mettaton. In each timeline they were together, and his plan was to propose under the stars on the first night that they were freed in a True Pacifist ending. That night never came, as the world was always reset. There’s a second part coming up regarding something that very recently happened on the server, a parasite that led up to having to reset, but there’s a twist to the reset. There is no Frisk present.
Anyway, hope you enjoy it under the cut. If you think I need to tag anything, please contact me and I will add it.
Sans lay on the couch he was seated on, and fell asleep. His thoughts were troubled with Mettaton, he remembered his Mettaton, and fell asleep with the hope that he would one day see him again. Maybe one day he would be able to propose.
The blood-curdling sound of knife on bone. The sting of the blade across his chest.
9999999
Sans clutched his chest, falling to his knees. A red liquid began to seep through the gash in his clothes, the entire length of the cut crimson on his shirt. Eyes wide, pupils small, his perpetual smile dropped. The human smiled, drawing their knife across their lips. One hundred and forty two resets. Before the human moved on, Sans asked them: “why?”. The human’s smile and eyes widened, their face the picture of insanity. Since it was going to be the last time, they decided to enlighten him.
The last time.
The hundred-and-forty-second reset was the last. The human had won. This, the hundred-and-forty-third timeline, was where it ended. They promised Sans that there would be no more resets. What was wrong? Wasn’t that what he wanted from the start? Poor Sans. He’d never be able to see them again. The human laughed. They had killed everyone, just like all those times before, but this time there was no going back. No reset. Perhaps they could have ended on the surface. Perhaps, in a different life, everything could have worked out. Papyrus and Mettaton would still have been alive, and Sans could have lived out his life in peace. But that wasn’t what they wanted. The human had let them in, and now they were taking control for good. First, monsters. Then, humankind. The demon that comes when you speak its name. They say that giving a demon a name gives it power. That was certainly what they had. The human had given them their soul every time, giving up their control piece by piece. The human laughed again, swinging the knife as they walked the remaining length of the Judgement Hall. They had won.
The flame in Sans’ eye socket continued to flash yellow and cyan as it had during the fight. Justice and Patience. Not just Justice for himself, but Justice for everyone. Not just the Patience of waiting until the human reached the Judgement Hall each time, but Patience throughout one hundred and forty two resets. He couldn’t let them take it away from him. The flame began to shift.
Blue. Integrity. He would uphold his duty as the Judge. He would uphold the balance he sought to protect with his honour.
Green. Kindness. He would do it for Papyrus, for Mettaton, for everyone who never had a chance. He would do it out of kindness.
Orange. Bravery. He would stand his ground against all odds. He must face the human with bravery, and never back down.
Purple. Perseverance. One hundred and forty two resets. One hundred and forty three timelines. One goal. To stop the human at all costs.
Sans stood. Still clutching his chest, the flame in his eye flashing rapidly. He took one shaky step towards the human walking across the hall, followed by another, and another. His resolve would power through. The red liquid soaked his clothes and his bones. It gave him strength.
Red. Determination.
Sans raised his arm in front of him. He grabbed what remained of the human’s soul. He pulled them towards him. The flame in his eye glowed bright crimson, a determination-soaked gash in his chest. He looked the human dead in the eyes, and smiled. Throwing the human against one of the pillars, he could feel his body trying to give up. The determination was not something he was used to. He wouldn’t let it give up. He was determined. Determined to stop the human, to restore the timeline, and to reach the surface. He was determined to be with Mettaton. Determination coursing through his bones, he unleashed an immense attack at the human.
0/92
GAME OVER
The human, of course, tried to reset. Something blocked them. Sans looked down at the soul of the human, when two buttons appeared in his view.
[CONTINUE] [RESET]
His determination had somehow overpowered the human’s. He had control over the timeline. He had the power to reset everything they had done. From within the human’s soul, he heard a genuinely pleading cry. If his mind hadn’t already been made up, that had done it. He reset.
This time, Sans followed the human. One hundred and forty three times before this, he had played out his life as he should, only slightly altering the way he was. This time, he wasn’t letting anything go wrong. Knowing that Sans had the power to reset, the human was merciful. Eventually, they reached the surface. Sans continued to follow the human for a while to ensure the safety of the timeline. It was over. The human disappeared. Sans, powered by determination, had done it. He hadn’t even realised how much time had passed. A sudden thought came to mind: Mettaton. Every other time, he had watched Mettaton fall in love all over again. This time, he had spent all of his time watching the human. He felt his soul sink in his chest. Mettaton. He took off to find his love, only to find that Mettaton was in the arms of his best friend, Grillby. He barely even knew him. Sans was too late. He had spent so much time trying to save the timeline that he had neglected Mettaton, and now he could see how happy he was without him. He felt his determination ebb.
Snow crunching underfoot. Walking through Snowdin once more, Sans was numb. Trudging through the deep snow towards the Ruins, tears falling onto the snow. He sat outside the Ruins with his knees drawn into his chest, his face in his arms. For three days he sat there. For three days he waited for the human to walk through those doors, for everything to have started over. But of course, the human never did. For three days Sans waited, and on the eve of the third day he stood. Dragging himself through the snow, he came to his old station. He sat inside, lay his face on his arms on the snowy surface, and wept. Mettaton was gone. He had ruined it. Weeping until all he could manage was a few pathetic sobs, Sans made a vow. He would not use what remained of his determination to reset. He couldn’t put everyone through that again. Instead, he used what remained of his determination to completely erase his memory of this timeline. It was better to think that Mettaton was waiting for him than to know that they could never be. He felt a tingling sensation in his head, followed by a sharp crack.
Gasping for air, Sans awoke on his couch. He had never experienced this nightmare before. He thought back to his arrival in this timeline. How he had awoken at his station in Snowdin, almost two years after the monsters had been liberated. That was when it struck him. That wasn’t just a nightmare.
Come join the RP server. There are more people than this now, myself included as one of the moderators (Royal Guard). Check it out if you want to RP in a group, it’s a lot of fun. OCs and AUs are welcome, just make a character sheet from the template in the #announcements channel.
Chara, I don't understand why the dreemurrs ever took you in, seeing as how fucking worthless you are I mean, its your fault Asriel died in the first place, and now, you're somehow alive again, so, why not do everyone a favor Chara, and just die!
Chara just stood there after the anon finished speaking before tears filled her eyes. “I…I…” She just started crying, unable to get a word out
* (Sans bursts through the door, his eye alive with a blue flame. Raising his hands in front of him, he summons Gaster Blasters either side of him, ready to strike.)
* chara! get behind me! i'll protect you-
* (Noticing the distinct lack of threat, Sans lowered his hands, the Gaster Blasters disappearing.)
* chara, i heard you crying, and got here as fast as i could. is this grey person to blame?
* (Sans shot the anon an angry glare, and embraced the crying girl.)
* there, there. tell ol' dunkle sans what happened.
So I'm trying to find a very specific phone wallpaper. It's the image of Sans as the lock screen, the unlock pattern being the knife, and Sans with a cut directly under the line of the pattern. I can't find it pls help.
