of tears and rain. ( all personals blocked. )

desc. * love is watching someone die. * so who's going to watch you die? indie au Sans from UT.

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Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

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Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

[fontesq-a-blog]

Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

[fontesq-a-blog]

Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

[fontesq-a-blog]

Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

[fontesq-a-blog]

Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

[fontesq-a-blog]

Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

[fontesq-a-blog]

Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

[fontesq-a-blog]

Heads up, if you want to interact with me, still, I’m over at the same url as before~

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Even though I did not elaborate on what happened to Sans while I was gone from his blog, I’m saying this right now that I’m going to be archiving this blog to look back on. I’ll be moving it to a separate blog so you can see just how badly he fucked up, and maybe even help him ( or hurt him further ). I’ll update this with the new one when I make the blog.

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like for a starter when i finish doing what i’m doing

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i’m planning on returning to this blog in a short while here. i’ve just been... busy.

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• LLABRAT.

“…” he didn’t know what to say, he just stared. 

                “ hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare. ”

His voice is monotone, as if he really couldn’t care less; his eye-sockets dark, making the blood stains ring loudly against his clothes && makes him seem much more menacing than he truly is. Perhaps that is his punishment.

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• THXCOOLBRO.

    ❝ – S… Sans? – ❞

That is not good. That is NOT good at all.

First of all, Papyrus still has not found a response to what is going on. The confusion slowly nibbling on his mind makes him unable to think straight, giving him an awful feeling of helplessness.

And to top it all a sense of dread overwhelms him upon seeing the blue glow and the broken figure that is his older brother. He can see that he is having a mental breakdown, a inner fight against something unknown of the youngest, out of his reach. — And the reason to this is Papyrus himself.

Now, what should he do? What are his options? What can he possibly SAY that would not trigger something worse. Sans would never hurt him, would he? No, Sans would never hurt Papyrus… problem is that he does not believe that he is Papyrus.

Maybe the best solution would be to LEAVE and stop torturing his beloved brother. After all, his presence alone caused all of this. Perhaps he would calm down if he was no longer there? Or…

After long moment of stillness, his body seems to move by itself and rushes forward toward the shaking skeleton. Gloved fingers grabs tense shoulders, as pupils filled with worry searches for the other’s gaze… in vain. Eventually, the tall one pulls him in a tight EMBRACE.

If he cannot prove him he is alive with his words, maybe actions will change it. With a hug, he intends to show Sans that he is not an illusion, a dream or a mirage. — He is physically there and   A L I V E.

Tears are now freely running down his cheekbones, wetting blue jacket as Papyrus buries his skull on it. He opens his jaw to say something, words coming muffled by the fabric.

    ❝ – I’m alive, brother! I’m here! I’m not dead! There never was any human! Sans, I’m alive, I’m ALIVE! Can’t you feel it? – ❞

It was devastating to him; seeing his brother alive after weeks of going home and calling his brother’s name with his normal tone of voice, telling him that he’s home from watching out for humans and his day jobs, only to hear silence bounce back at him---then, about three months after his death that he had figured out that there would be no resets. He had to grieve... and live. It would be Papyrus’s last wish if he could voice it, he’s sure. So he had. He had started his grieving process alongside Alphys, Mettaton and Grillby, and he had started to heal. But then his powers started to go out of control in his sleep, sometimes even while focused at work--forced him to jump timelines and see the very face that haunted him every day and night of his life. Just like right now. Exactly like right now.

He lets out a low moan of pain when hearing his brother try to reassure him, muffled, but loud, against the fabric of his jacket, and he begins to shake again, familiar voices telling him the same phrases over and over again. This time, he’s not fighting them. He agrees--goddamn, does he a g r e e. He is a failure to monsterkind. He is a failure to Gaster. He is a terrible friend. He is a horrific brother. He can’t save ANYONE. He would be better off dead. But, even when in this state of mind, he can’t bring himself to say those things directly to his brother--mirage or not.

        “ i--- i’m--- ”

He can’t breathe. Something inside his soul makes him want to writhe and twist away from the younger’s hold on him, and this is shown by the way he tenses up, but something inside his very code is stronger. Something that shouldn’t exist. Something that’s strong--terrifying. He recognizes it, but he wishes he doesn’t. The tears begin to fall quickly, and his left eye illuminates itself, blazing brightly--warmly, but not so warm as to burn the other, or the host. Just under uncomfortable for others, but just warm enough to be uncomfortable for Sans. He forces a breath through grit teeth and his hands shakily move to his brother’s back, fleeting thoughts making him hesitate for a brief moment before he slowly grips the other’s scarf, feeling like he was a kid again--like the one time where Papyrus had comforted him before the First Reset. 

        “ i--- i... can... i-i can f-f-feel you, you’re--         you’re here... i... ”

He just holds his brother, for he doesn’t know what else to do that isn’t going to kill the mood even further.

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• ALITTLEFLOWERTOLDME.

His sockets droop as he feels his brother’s hands against his face. Physical contact, from his brother at least, is always comforting in a way that nothing else is. Reassuring, grounding, safe. A soft sigh slips out, only to be retracted in a softer inhale at the concerned questions. Papyrus guesses that he is acting just a little bit weird.

      “NOTHING HAPPENED.”

There’s a slight grind of his teeth as he thinks about his answer. He’s not sure how to explain his own concern for his brother, how he’s almost afraid of losing him, how sometimes he’s just a bit scared that when Sans is gone for too long that he’s just not going to come back. He doesn’t know why he feels that way.

      “JUST WORRIED ABOUT YOU.”

        “ worried...? ”

He’s unsure of what to say about that; he isn’t sure what to say about any of what’s going on, but he does know how to deal with it. The surprised expression ( which reflexively twisted with fear ) pushed itself into his normal grin of joviality and humility, wanting to have his younger brother smile once again. He hates seeing the other even the slightest upset, even more so over he himself, especially so when there’s nothing to worry about. He doesn’t have the heart to tell Papyrus about his own worries. He has better things to attend to ( at least, that’s what he tells himself ).

        “ there ain’t no reason to worry over me.         i’m perfectly fine, bro. just workin’ a little         harder like you want me to. ”

Having ( eventually ) gained perfect control over how his words come out, he hopes and prays that his brother does not hear how pained his voice sounds. He hopes that his brother doesn’t notice how his voice softens, and threatens to crack under pressure. He hopes that he can keep it together long enough to watch his brother walk away, only to remind himself that, if anything, the resets will always bring his brother back to him. A L W A Y S.

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• DECEITANALYST.

              ’ tell me you hate me, if it makes you feel better. ’

              the scientist’s mind was consumed by several ideas telling her to lie, to lie, to just           LIE – discomposing her mental state like an intersecting pathway. alphys wanted to           lie, goodness, she HAD to, but then; she didn’t want to. all that was composed within           that other feeling was to value the missing honesty she lacked, to be completely honest           with herself, and to be honest to him, too. twas much of a tug-of-war situation to her,           actually. if she lied—

              —–no. she won’t. not ANYMORE. it was far too EVIDENT that the scientist’s lying           couldn’t be any more subtle now; sans distinctively all has it figured out. to lie would           simply be nothing but a noted draft of distrust hanging over her old friend, which she           knew, would soon grow to be a complete entity of ignorance between the two. &&.           gee, alphys really wouldn’t want that, now would she?

              → ❝ … th– the truth.                       w– well, i mean ….. m– maybe.                       maybe i did.  ❞

              it was not long before a hanging pause climbed upon her speech. the last few           words that came out of her mouth– it could incidentally claim it. alphys hated him.           a lingering feeling of dread soon hung over her as she’d … just properly thought           about this. she just wanted him to be happy, too. &&. yet; she’s just dragging it           further and further away from him.

              → ❝  n– now, i’m … saying the truth                       here. i’ll– i’ll admit. i … i hated                       you.  i mean … y– you’d .. you’d                       just LEFT me. right … right when                       no one else was there anymore.                       i– i couldn’t help myself. ❞

                you LEFT me.

The words stung worse than any damage that could have been inflicted upon him; they bit and clawed at his bones, ripping his SOUL to shreds without ever laying a hand on the fragile manifestation of his very existence. The words weren’t accusations--they were the truth. He had left her that day. Without a word, without a note to explain himself, he had simply left, thinking that she would understand. He expected too much out of her again. It had been habit back then. He wanted to continually let himself down because he thought that there was no way he could have done anything differently, that it had been everyone else’s fault he was dragged down... but now--nowadays, it was the complete opposite. Nowadays, he constantly put himself down for thinking such things, and he had become way worse than he could have ever been before, habits and all.

He found himself smiling, despite the fact that she had just confirmed his worst fears. He found himself... hopeful, for once. Why is he smiling, he wondered, even though he should be upset at that? Well... he’s changed. They’ve all changed. Especially in the past four months or so. Having memory, even against the resets, will help you either believe in what’s to come, or fear that you’ll lose it all. At one point, he was the latter. At one point, he could do nothing but sit in bed and cry, for fear that he’d get up and watch his brother face off against a human and having to ponder if he’d die that day. At one point, even the slightest of scares had him bedridden. Now, he has HOPE. And... and maybe that’s enough.

        “ you have a right to hate me for that. that         was a major dick move, alphys. but i can         assure you that if you give me one more         chance... i won’t leave you. ever. ”

There’s a pause in his speech, as if he wanted to say something else after the attempted reassurance, but he was unsure of whether it would be the right thing to say or not. Then he sighs, knowing that holding back his words wouldn’t help anything between them. He cannot just tell her to be honest and tell a lie straight after to her. Sans slowly nods, as if agreeing to some unsaid statement--or answering some unasked question. He shifted his weight to the other side of his body, averting his gaze to a wall nearby, not wanting to see her expression when he spoke next.

        “ it’s not like i have anything to leave to         anymore. ”

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• SHACKLEDHOUND.

      *  YOU NOTICE, AND SOMEWHERE           WITHIN YOU WISH YOU HAD NOT.

              ❛  NOTHING   LASTS   FOREVER.❜

        • YOU’RE CRYING.         • YOU WISH YOU WEREN’T.

“...Nothing gold can stay, I guess.”