#comicallyfaulted

bestows you a sock inside of the wrapped gift he has prepared for you. C:

                                ❛     W -    WOWIE !   A GIFT , FOR ME ?     ❜         hands envelope the edge of the box , slender  &&.   long ,  to which greedy fun - loving hands tear apart wrappings .   he's flush with emotion ,  excitement all too much to bear as he hesitates opening the box .    empty sockets gaze towards his brother ,  adamantly affectionate  &&.  appreciative of the charitable gesture .

                                ❛     THANK YOU ,  SANS .    YOU KNOW ,  I CAN NEVER FIND THE RIGHT WORDS ,  BUT YOU TRULY ARE A BROTHER I AM BLESSED TO HAVE .     ❜

              fingers pry ,  box opens .   the stench of crusty must hits first .    then  DISAPPOINTMENT .

Somehow, standing there staring at the snow, it all felt fake.

Two entire worlds of watching the killing of everyone you have since grown to care for hang heavy on your shoulders. It feels so fresh yet so distant as you gaze out at Snowdin Town this time. Frisk already ran off, who knows where to, and you’ve been left here to reflect on the past. Sure, this run have been nice, not a single killing, but what happens if that changes? Will you just ignore it? You let your mind wander a lot. That was one of the best ways to get through it in your opinion. What “it” is can change from day to day, but it always seems to help somehow. You force a breath from your chest and slowly step forward a bit to let your feet sink into the snow. You mean that quite literally- touching is still a skill you have yet to remaster, so your feet fall right through, not even leaving a foot print. It’s the try that counts. And speaking of trying, that’s what you plan to do.

You aren’t sure what exactly you’re going to try at, but something. Something new. Frisk isn’t here anyway, so no one should be able to see your fail! Ha. Perfect plan. You take another step forward with this new sense of fragile confidence and begin to wander about the area, looking for anything to try out. A smile on your face and determination in your eyes. But then you spot him in the corner of your vision. You freeze in plan and your head snaps to look over. You’re pretty sure that Sans can’t see you-- Most monsters can’t and you don’t think he’s ever brought it up, but as he looks vaguely off in your direction you’ve never felt less hidden.

A few moments of silent pondering lead you to a simple conclusion: Test it out. If he replies, you’re doomed, if he doesn’t, no one sees you embarrassing yourself! It’s the perfect plan! You stride over with a smile that’s clearly fake and a stride that doesn’t stop your knees for shaking and you strike up a conversation.

* Greetings Sans, do you know if you’ll be selling hot dogs tonight?

✱ @comicallyfaulted  called  //  accepting.

the  artist  sat  with  sketch  pad  in  his  lap,    the  end  of  his  paintbrush  tapping  rhythmically  against  his  skull  as  he  considered  where  to  start.    the  scenery  was  lovely,    but  blocking  it  out  seemed  dreadfully  dull.

well,    he  had  to  start  somewhere.    re-adjusting  his  hold  on  the  brush,    ink  placed  a  single,    long  black  stroke  on  the  pristine  white  page.    he  stares  at  it  for  a  long  moment.

                 then  rips  it  out  of  the  page    &&    chucks  it  behind  him.

he’ll  clean  up  before  he  leaves    (if  he  remembers)    besides  there’s  no  one  around  for  miles.    well  ...    uh,    so  he  thought.

the  skeleton  cranes  his  head  back  to  look  behind  him,    &&  in  his  inverted  view,    he  spots  sans  --    holding  a  piece  of  paper.    the  guardian  has  the  decency  to  look  sheepish,    eyelights  change  from  orange    &&    purple  to  cyan    &&    green.

(This is a closed starter for @comicallyfaulted )

Today was a more or less usual day for the young noble boy Frisk, Asgore had asked him to go water the damn flowers like usual, He thought about protesting but after learning about asgore's old role as king of the mountain he end up getting a very deep respect for him, and so he wanted to get on his good side, it's what his dad would have wanted him to do anyways, always good to be in good standing with the local nobles he would say.

Regardless, at least he knew his efforts were showing, asgore let him use the cutlery again! He was so tired of having to eat with his hands, so uncivilized, it wasn't right for a nouble such as himself to have to eat with his own bare hands!

Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on who you ask), his little task was going to have to wait, as midway through the Gardens a very strong pain in his head made itself known, and just like that he fell unconscious.

Weirdly enough, he woke up right away (at least from his perspective) but he was somehow...outside the ruin's door? Oh great...all he wanted was to mingle with Gasriel again, he wasn't really in the mood to interact with him ever since that kid beat him in a spar match over the determination star, he knew Gasriel was going to rub it in his face that he lost, and he was having none of it!

But...something felt off, the ruin's door was locked, shut tight, and the path to gazy's usual sentry station was much...longer and ominous, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.