#existence-overwhelming

Send In a Symbol

💫 - do they believe in fate/prophecy/destiny? 

Well, I’d say that Sans is fatalistic to the core because of his knowledge about the world he lives in, but he doesn’t really believe in the concept of something like a “calling”, let alone mystical prophecies - although the latter is challenged by the existence of time manipulating powers and the existence of the anomaly.

 So, I’d say, he believes in prophecies as far as that he’ll guess that this has to have happened before at some point. 

Prophecies and Destiny in the more common understanding, however, he thinks, are simply “bullshit”. 

 “…”

 Despite the pout, Steel doesn’t put up much resistance.

“S-stop it, dej, I ain’t a baby or somethin’.” A quiet mutter comes out in response, but his body is gently leaning against Her frail physical frame. She looks so full and shiny and beautiful..but upon touching her she feels like nothing but a skinny carcass.

 And yet, Steel finds great comfort in the feel of a ribcage sticking out beneath her skin. It’s the familiarity.

“I want a gift. Like…I dunno candy or somethin’.” He demands, but it’s followed by a tiny gasp when she kisses his forehead. The touch activates a soft glow between his eyes.

 Behind his thoughts lies a truth he knows all too well; all the candy, or any other physical object, would never amount to what She offers. For She may reach into this part of his world that only he has access to and manifest anything within it; thus Steel’s birthday gift for his 17th year of physical existence…was the momentary ease of pain, the reassurance that whatever his weak mundane mind perceives him to be is nothing but what a fragment of what he is, for in the greater plan of things, Steel’s physical body is a tiny little pebble.

Arranged in no particular order. Here we go!

@alex-andsometimeschara- Alex

@pastelbuttercups - Buttercup

@existence-overwhelming - chibi Caretaker l o l

@dtdeath - Funeral Director Des

@resetkid - Flurry!

@gravefallensoul - Izo. Grumpy grumpy Izo. 

@im-sans-ational - Sans when he’s not impersonating Frisks. 8\

@deusn - The Knight...has had enough of your shenanigans. l o l

@revivescere-flore - Lili the Annoying One!

@fcllenflowers- Flower Narcissus doing the Creepy Face. Or his usual thing who knows

@fadedribbcn​ - Nell how do u draw that hair omg cry

@asktheseventhhuman​ - Seventh needs to stop the stabs and bring ice cream

@side-chara-cter​ - Charlotte - another how do i draw hair T_T

fcllenflowers​ - Steel! 8)

@thekui - Kui the sugar maniac

Hug meme

{Not Accepting 3/3}

SEND IN “FLASHBACK” FOR A SCENARIO OF MY MUSE’S PAST.

Light spots mottle the even surface of the coffee. Beautiful, calm. Peaceful.So very different from their pinprick cousins that tremble inside their sockets as they jump left, right, left and right again.

Over and over they skim through the calculations on the yellowed papers on his desk.

Failed attempts — so many failed attempts — turn the sheets into a messy battleground, a chaotic cacophony of crossed out notes and underlined results; all of them melting away before his tired eyes.

No matter how many frantic efforts he makes in hopes of finding just one mistake, their work has simply been too thorough, too determined, the leftover numbers, operators, and graphs too accurate to allow for any overlooked loopholes now.

And so, he sinks back into his seat, coming to terms with their new reality. “heh. all right then”, he murmurs to himself, “i see how it is.” I can live with that. But can he? Can Alphys? His brother? 

One last time, he gazes up at the flickering screen, timeline over timeline looking back at him. And in the middle, surrounded by all the different Undergrounds, nothing. Darkness. A hauntingly eerie smile.

He smiles back at it, and watches as the command he enters into the console erases picture after picture from its digital imageboard.

It’s better like that. Better, if he sabotages the papers on his desk, only to tell Alphys that all their efforts have been in vain. That delving deeper into the possibilities of the different universes has only proved to be another dead end. That everything — he — is alright. 

Stepping through the door, he almost crumbles the only picture left. The only timeline he’s willing to hold on for. 

“S-sans, are you a-alright? You sh-shouldn’t strain yourself after…” 

“nah, don’t sweat it, alphy”, he interrupts the other scientist, his knuckles turning white from the tightness of his grip. “‘bout the timelines, though…” Closing his eye sockets, he prepares for what, maybe, was going to be his biggest lie yet. “let’s just say, we, uh, gotta talk.”

Oh boy. I’m getting a vague feeling of deja vu. I haven’t even had this blog for two minutes.