Send “⏬” to see my muse in a low point of their life || No longer accepting

Stan sat against the apartment wall, the room filling with the gloom he’d been felt since evacuating from Ponchella. His bones ached with loneliness and longing for the friends he’d left behind. But what else could he do? He couldn’t let the Plague get to them too. He wouldn’t. He liked them too much to let that kind of nightmare happen to them. 

There was a soft purring mrow as a semi-short haired cat sauntered up and climbed into his lap. She purred and nuzzled him, seeking attention while also seeking to comfort. The ploy worked and soon the cat was wrapped in the man’s arms and being scritched with gentle fingers.

“Heya Don,” Stan mumbled stroking his cat’s noggin. “How’s my girl?” 

The cat purred loudly, adoring the attention as he scratched her back and forehead. As he did so, Steak’s voice drifted through his head, sending pangs of grief radiating through his bones. 

‘You got a problem with Whiskers?’ Steak had asked before introducing him to the cat. Other voices began to pile in, each one seeking to remind him of a friend he’d left behind. Sansy, Dove, Smoke, Gorey, Tori, Humerus, Gigi… that grumpy bespectacled skeleton scientist whose mug he still had in storage… So many precious people in his life and most of them not even residents of his own world. 

“Aw, Whiskers,” Stanley mumbled as his fleshy facade fell. “I wonder if they know how much I miss them?”

     A bad habit? Definitely, not listening lately was a thing but, she was still in the house correct? Couldn’t be too much of an issue at present. It had been a long time since she’d literally crawled into bed with her brother but there’s only a specific warmth that could possibly be curling in besides the skeleton.

     The crisp cold air of Snowdin felt warmer in Humerus’ timeline compared to his own. Without a busy town square, the frost had less obstacles to face when it threatened to freeze the buildings solid. While it was nice seeing familiar faces again, they weren’t his reason for crossing the fabric of reality and leaving his empty home behind.

     Appearing atop a nearby trash can, the skeleton proceeded to light a cigarette and survey his surroundings. His sudden entrance drew a couple of curious glances but it didn’t seem as though many were startled by him. Maybe they remembered his fractured face or his coat, he used to pop in quite often after all.

     Waving he hopped down and followed a path he’s walked for many, many years. Passing through the first set of cozy little homes, Smoke stops at a particular one and smiles. He puts the cigarette out into the snow and pockets the butt before knocking on the door.

x. very quick and messy sketches for:

      You liked your Sans. A lot. He was so nice, to both you and Frisk, which you appreciated immensely. He was funny, and shared his jokes with you. And you could tell that despite his rather rocky introductions he’s given to other people, he had a kind soul.

      But you didn’t like that he hid things from you. It wasn’t so bad, at first. Everyone has secrets, and that was okay. But this was a little too much, especially when, it seemed it affected you, as well.

      So you talked to Papyrus, obviously. You wouldn’t ask him the obvious questions. You just wanted to meet some of Sans’ friends. Some of the people he’s met that were “out there” (your description for other timelines). And Papyrus was glad to not only point you in the right direction, but physically take you there. What a guy.

      You were in front of a familiar door, and part of you almost expected to knock on it and Papyrus to open it and say “IT WAS ME! I WAS SANS’ BEST FRIEND ALL ALONG! NYEH HEH HEH!” or something along those lines. But you went with it.

Mmmm.