sociopathicartist

[sociopathicartist]

If Sans isn't worshiping the ground that I walk on, the fic isn't worth it.

[sociopathicartist]

Reaper sans X reader (romantic headcanons)

Hi my babies, i lied again, im free balling and will upload the analysis on DT sans and tor when i feel like it, tee hee. someone (you know who you are) has resparked an old interest of mine involving reaper sans. have these romantic headcanons of him to feast on for now.

also, i’m trying to go back to my older style of headcanons where it’s kinda like a mix of an oneshot and a headcanon. i miss yapping to you guys like we are on a facetime call, so i’m bringing back my inner monologue.

— meet? meet cute? meet scary? —

Okay, so there are a lot of complications with this relationship. He’s some immortal god outside of our construct of time. How in the world would he meet—let alone hang out—with you?

Well, I feel like there are a few workarounds to how meeting with him might go.

Reaper sans is a busy dude, to prevent humans from becoming immortal it’s his (and his brother’s) job to reap the human souls when it’s their time to go so that they don’t just keep living and lollygagging around for all time like the gods. Constantly traveling around to reap souls, however, might lead him to accidentally stumble into you.

The best way I can think of this (i want to write a one shot over this theme later down the line) is if perhaps you had fallen sick, or you had a near death incident and somehow lived (maybe modern medicine, cpr, something) there would be a breif moment where out of the corner of your eye- you saw death.

Literally saw death.

Was it a hallucination? There were many stories you’d heard before of people hallucinating their loved ones right before they died, and, well, you did die-for a brief moment, granted- but still. There weren’t any stories you’d heard before of people seeing the Grim Reaper right before their eyes.

Which… You did see him, right?

It was hard to remember. For a moment when you woke up after being revived- you saw a clear vision of him standing behind the crowd of people around you. Looking at you. Watching. Waiting.

But now when you thought about him, it was like the memory of his figure was covered by a vast fog. You could no longer remember what you saw, but you remembered how seeing him made you feel.

You had never been so scared in your entire life.

It would take a few weeks for Death to take a dance with you again. Again, he’s a busy man- but in the back of his mind- the curiosity and boredom of waiting for something new to happen was eating at him. He’d been doing this for… How many years ago was the beginning of time? He’d keep doing this job until the end of time faded, and even after that, he and the other gods who lingered about would remain yet.

Papyrus was a hard worker… It would be okay if he visited you out of boredom, right? Just a peek to see how you were doing before he went back to his normal routine of reaping souls indefinitely. Something to take the edge off, wake him up, satisfy his mind, humor his questions, entertain him a bit.

He had blown through every excuse that he could use as an answer if any of the gods ever found out what he was doing. Not that there was a high chance they would- he could just channel his omnipresence to be with you while he did his work.

It didn’t get rid of that worry that he would get caught, though.

— Hanging out —

Obviously, when you first caught sight of him stalking you (you were blissfully unaware of how frequently he did that), you screamed.

It was the grim reaper. Hanging out in your kitchen, sitting at your barstool. His scythe was leaning against your dining room table and he had one elbow propped on the countertop while he rested his mandible in his palm, watching you. Lurking.

‘hey. i see you have a coffee maker back there. care to make me some?’

Reaper sans can use fear and empathic manipulation to his advantage (canon power, sourced), so when he starts to feel the slightest bit guilty for scaring the life- hehe- out of you every time he showed up, he maybeslightlyprobably tweaks your feelings a little bit.

Nothing to make you different- no, no. You entertain him from his boring, eternal life just by being yourself. Just something to help make you relaxed. He doesn’t want you to have a heart attack and die on the spot (even if it is a bit fun to jumpscare you). He wants you to live a long, happy life just like any human should. He doesn’t want to have to whisk you away from the mortal realm all too soon.

So there’s always the telltale sign of when he is stalking you, because you suddenly feel at ease and comforted- almost as if you’ve sunk into a hot bath.

If he touches you, you die. Suuuuper convenient, right? Right?? Due to that factor, he always keeps a distance from you. The two of you talk about whatever a human and a god could possibly talk about from a large gap with him sitting in a chair across the other side of the room. He doesn’t want to take any risks. If you walked past him and tripped, even a single hair on your head touching against his cloak for a millisecond would mean the end of you.

If you move towards him, he moves back. If you’re taking a path that might cause you to go behind him or join your distance even by a single inch, he teleports to somewhere else. If you bring him a mug of coffee (for a god who doesn’t need sleep, he sure is tired) he vanishes a few feet away when you place the mug down and waits until you’ve returned to your original spot again to return to his seat.

He’s careful. He has all the time that eternity has to offer for him to be gentle, soft, and patient with you. Sometimes he stretches out time for a few seconds by speeding things up for himself. You don’t notice since he’s just sitting there listening to you yab on about your frustrating work day, he’s not getting up and running around at super sonic speed. If he speeds up things for himself, everything from his line of vision becomes extremely slow.

It gives him more time to just… watch. To stare at you. To get up from his chair and take a step or two closer (he’s moving way faster than you so it would be insanely hard for you to touch him at such a slow speed) to you just so that he can breathe in the air you’re breathing in.

If he thinks hard enough, he could imagine what it would be like to intertwine your soft hand with his calloused and scarred one.

He can’t do that though. Grazing his hands on the coffee mug that you touched while he listened to you talk was going to be the closest he would ever get to you.

So… That’s most of the hanging out you guys do. He doesn’t wander into the public eye to be seen by randoms, he has no interest in causing that unnecessary panic. He watches movies with you from a heavy distance away. You exchange memes and texts with each other online a lot. He hangs out in your kitchen while you cook yourself dinner (he’s not a big eater, he just likes coffee.) and he watches you move around. You stare into his pitch black eye sockets when you run out of things to talk about and he just… waits. He never talks about his work to you- you already knew what he did just by looking at him, and his life was extremely boring when it was in comparison to yours. He did the same thing all the time with the occasional conversation with his bro or an argument with one of the other gods. He liked to hear about your mortal life and your mortal problems, so when you weren’t doing the talking- it became a deadly quiet with heavy stares.

You find his soulless stare creepy even when he manipulates your emotions a tad to keep you calm. Not that it isn’t attractive.

Speaking of attractive,

— Dating —

Okayyy… I know it’s romance headcanons, but I don’t feel like he’d date you despite liking you. It’s just out of common sense of… you literally can’t touch each other. No cuddling, no kissing, no sex, nothing.

But, in the timeline where he would date you (you’d have to confess, he’s not shy but all means but he doesn’t want the pressure of a powerful god asking you out put onto your shoulder), i’ll give some examples of things he’d do and how it would go down.

So, I can’t think of any situation for how a confession would go since I can’t envision him dating a mortal, so feel free to just picture one in your mind.

— He’s… tried. He’s tried to do basic romantic things.

He brought you your favorite flowers one time, but the moment he reached out to grab them and put them in a vase, they wilted and died.

Being around you all the time and seeing you just touch things without killing him- for a brief moment- made him forget that he’s different from you. He once attempted to grab some mint from the little leaf garden of herbs that was on your kitchen windowsill, only to see the plant you used all the time for baking christmas cookies or flavoring your tea had wilted the moment his fingertip touched one of the leaves. He attempted to help, he knew you liked mint and was just wanting to assist you like a boyfriend should, but now he’d killed your favorite herb and you needed to go buy a new plant.

The incident scared him. For a second a single second he forgot that he killed things by touching them. What would happen if one day after spending a considerable amount of time with you, he unconsciously reached to tuck some hair behind your ear?

He never let himself go off guard after that.

Well, living flowers and helping you cook were usually off the table. Great. He had to work with what he could.

Since he could be everywhere at once, he spent some of his time learning how to make little origami flowers for you and spritz them with a scent you liked. It was something that wouldn’t die, and you could touch and feel the flowers where he had touched and felt them. Indirect touch was the best the two of you would ever get.

And even though he usually always had his ominous cloak on which made him look horrifying beyond belief when you stumbled down your hallway at two in the morning only to see him inspecting something in your house (stalker), he sometimes put on clothing articles around you that he would give to you when he had to leave. You could wear it when he was gone, mimicking the closest you’d get to a hug from him, and give an article to him when he returned to see you so that he could reclaim it with his touch and smell.

I’ll answer the question that at least one person who reads this will have. If he has omnipresence and can be everywhere at once in multiple forms of himself, why does he have to leave you? Simple answer, it’s annoying for him to try and focus on multiple things at once. Just becuase he can do it doesn’t mean he likes it, especially if his other part that’s not with you is starting to have trouble and he has to focus his attention on the task at hand- causing him to tune out from you for a bit. He does hang around your house a lot (even when you’re not there) but he leaves when he needs to focus on something that takes up a lot of his attention. (talking to his brother or another god, maybe chasing down a soul that doesn’t want to leave. that stuff)

Gift giving and simple acts of service were the best love language he could offer since all physical touch was opted out.

Sometimes you’d come home and there were some handmade flowers for you resting on your coffee table. Or a candy you liked- or maybe a card he picked up for you and wrote down funny jokes in it. And if you were busy doing something in the house, he might suggest that you go sit down and just talk to him while he takes over the chore for you. Sure, he’s lazy and under normal circumstances you would never catch him dead (hehe) doing chores, but he feels like he has to compensate a bit for the things he can’t do.

His main mode of talking to you though is texting or calling you when he isn’t lurking around your walls. He sends you memes. All. The. Time. Selfies of him doing anything -

{ Why did you send me a selfie of you in an alleyway?

[ don’t you like me

Yeah. Sometimes you’re actively talking to him and he sends you a meme or a text even though he’s not even on his phone right now. He does it because it annoys you and just out of a boyfriend manner, he likes making you slightly annoyed now and then. Worst part is that you can't even be too mad at him because he technically is actively listening and paying attention to you, but he just has a form of himself somewhere off sending you texts and memes.

He also just… Stares at you a lot. Sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night from a dream and when you go to roll over he’s just… there. Sitting on your carpet on the floor just scrolling on his phone and hanging out in your presence. He deflects the topic with jokes if you ask why he lurks around you so much, sometimes just hanging out in your home even when you’re not there, but you know that it’s because it’s the only way he can be close to you. If you weren’t used to it by now, all his staring and watching would have been a bit scary. Was it scary to you at one point? You can’t remember.

Sooo… Yeah. I’ll make some one shots with him soon but as for the headcanons, that’s how i can see it going down as for meeting and dating you :3

[sociopathicartist]

ok, i lied (again, sorry) next post is analysis on deltarune sans, teehee. have reaper for right now

[sociopathicartist]

'Plaything' (Classic) Sans x Toxic Player!Reader

it's one of those days. pass the toxic/abusive x reader fics/headcanons 💕

player takes frisks place. reader is also 18+. Reader is not chara either. Reader has the power to save, load, reset. Sans can't remember resets. But the body keeps the score...

content warning for obsession, manipulation emotional/psychological abuse, dehumanization, love bombing... reader is a textbook emotional abuser

also mc spirals near the end of it. 🤷‍♀️

You fell in love with sans. During your time in the underground, you and him were on good terms shared numerous meals together, hung out in the most inconvenient of places, developed a mutual respect and (somewhat) of a friendship. You freed the monsters, lived a fulfilling life upon the surface, and lacked something. Him.

You tried everything. Flirting. (oh, he's not taking it seriously.) Joking. (he's just playing along.) Light hearted teasing mixed with insults? (god, he's good at comebacks.) Okay quit that altogether, maybe you'll win his heart using puns? (you bought a book, but it seems like that's how everyone close to him communicates with him. Papyrus doesn't engage in sans' low effort puns but still makes them anyways, Toriel? She's up there with sans. Asgore? You don't even want to think about it.) And it still. It lands you in the friendzone.

You want him—obviously, embarrassingly, undeniably. And once he clocked you, you never made another serious move. That would be weird. Violating, even. Your relationship should stay platonic. He made that boundary a while ago.

...In this timeline.

Who's to stop you from achieving it in a different timeline? If you're doing something, there's nothing stopping you from resetting it all and attempting to try again. No one can remember anything. Sure they all have annoying sense of deja-vu, but ultimately their fate lies at your mercy. You could save everyone, you could leave everyone. You can kill everyone and they wouldn't remember a damn thing.

But that's not your goal! You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you killed everyone. How could you? You're not that much of a monster...

You're not that cruel.

And you can offer them freedom! (Whenever you please)

You remember the exact steps that freed all of monsterkind from the underground, there's nothing stopping you from just redoing it all over again.

Your main goal: to cultivate more meaningful relationships with the monsters that you keep in your social circle. 💚 Crack open Papyrus’ loneliness like a mystery novel. What’s his secret? How’s he still smiling when half of Snowdin thinks he’s a joke? What type of trauma has Undyne suffered at the hands of the previous fallen humans to cultivate such a visceral hate for humans? Perhaps there's a way to soothe Alphy's guilt regarding the amalgamates?

And maybe, even court Sans right this time around.

Why even apologize when they can't remember? Especially when this timeline is supposed to better than the previous timeline. Keeping your flaws, strengths, red and green flags in check, you swear to correct the mistakes of this lifetime. [RESET]

With that in mind, you succeed in your previous goal. ✨ 💗 You stay a little longer with Toriel before leaving. You allow her to relive her days of motherhood, letting her cook you meals, sing you to sleep as she tucks you into bed. You help around the house, doing chores as if you still lived in your childhood home. You take walks with her around the ruins, getting to know the inhabitants. Sure, she has the same betrayed reaction when you decide to leave, but you've shown her your maturity. You've show her you can care for yourself.

You take the time to really engage Papyrus in his puzzles. You sit down, and excitedly consume the... below average spaghetti without complaint! (You even asked for seconds. Because you’re committed. Because you’re a good person. he's supposed to be your future brother in law for stars sake.) You allow him to entertain you with his very... interesting hijinks, pretend to be shocked at the numerous times he bamboozles you. When you finally encounter Undyne face to face, you throw yourself into every spear she launches in your way. You match her intensity with wild praise, reckless admiration for her strength, asking her too many questions, offering to practice sparring even when your legs are jelly after running away from her. (Because respect from a true heroine means more than a kick to the shins and a black eye.) Alphys? Like Papyrus you make sure to immerse yourself in her experiments, but more importantly her... anime and fanfiction collection. You read what she sends you (as boring as it is) You let her stumble over her words as she infodumps. You remind her over and over again that she's wonderful. Brilliant. Smart. Talented. That she still deserves to be forgiven. You put on a show for everyone who watches you and Mettatton. Hell, you throw him flowers even if when actively tries to exploit your death on screen. You smile and pose for the camera. Your performance makes worth dying for. And Sans. Ah that comedian. The reason why you're so painstakingly committed to loving everyone. (It’d be weird to single him out, right? That’d be suspicious. And you’re not suspicious. You're kind. You're loving. You're normal.)

The look in his eyelights that linger a little too long on you. (He's admiring your figure, that's why.) He coughs when you tell him a joke, hiding his hands in his pocket and looking off to the side. (That's because you make him flustered!, does he really think he can hide that blush?) 💙

🩵 "you're uh, a lot more chipper than usual, huh buddy?" he asks, tone dry and quiet, like he's testing the waters of something he doesn't want to step in. And you laugh as if you haven't heard those words before. (A tease. Obviously. He likes when you’re in a good mood, even if he pretends to be annoyed.)

He leans his head against his hand, letting his eyelights flick away from you, gauging the distance from his seat the exit of Grillby's. (It's so obvious he can't wait to spend the rest of the night alone with you.) "welp, uhh catch ya later? i gotta put papyrus to bed.'

You blush as he accidentally brushes against your shoulder as he makes his way past you, hood up, head down, averting his eyes from you. (He’s flustered. Super cute. You’ve really gotten under his skull.)

Even though he loves you, he doesn't really love you. ' You notice he never says it out loud. You and sans finally have more than friendship, a little less than love. He'll bare his bones, but won't even think about baring your soul. You chalk it up as early relationship hesitancy, but months go by and you begin to get bored. How can a relationship be sustained upon one party keeping such a distance? You say this is all for the betterment of their lives, but do the humans and monsters have a say in what goes on in their life? [RESET]

He kisses your neck with little emotion. Every time you lean into his touch, you notice the way his fingers tremble upon your hips, lightly grazing it but never grasping it. He'll lie besides you, sharing the same bed, but never the same space. You roll over onto your side, head pressed against his ribcage- (he tenses under your grasp. But that's probably the anxiety talking. In your eyes, he sees you as irresistible. Who wouldn't want someone like you? You're everything he desires.)

You press your head against his santrum, one of the things that separates you from his soul. You close his eyes and imagine the sound of a heartbeat, imagining it speeding up when he looks down at you. 'Do you love me?" You ask. You feel him freeze beneath you. Looking up you watch as his eyelights flicker to the ceiling, and to the open window, as if looking for a way out. "of course." he says after a few moments. Dryly. You grip him a little tighter. Oh god, the amount of restraint you must exercise as to not pry his ribcage open and force your souls to connect.

The outcome of this timeline is certainly a start. sure, you had to put in a little bit of elbow grease to get where you were, but isn't it worth it? To live on the surface with the one you love most- you didn't even have to reset the timeline numerous times to experiment with different ways to romance him! You're here, with him. He's lying in your arms after you've both filed some taxes and finalized your chores, snoring away like nothing else in the world matters.

It's domestic bliss, something you and him (well, he really realized it yet.) have dreamed about for months.

And if anything, Sans is a lucky individual. Pursued by an individual so attentive, so loving, someone who takes the time out of their day to his physical, emotional, psychological, sexual needs perfectly. Someone who's patient with someone as timid and distant as him. Someone to sticks by his side when he closes up, laughs a little louder when his jokes don't hit as hard, someone who hugs a little longer, someone who loves him for him, even if he isn't himself on some days.

But that patient fades after a while.

You get bored. You ask if he loves you.

"yeah," in his response he flinches, clenching his teeth tighter, as if admitting to a crime. That's weird. You never raise your voice or yell at him. You've been nothing but attentive. Communicative. Loving.

"You don't sound like you do." You purse your lips into a pout. As endearing as you find his laziness, it gets annoying. No wonder you and Papyrus made time out of the week to rant about how annoying that laziness can get.

"seriously buddy? what more do you want outta me?"

( His smile never falters, his expression doesn't loose its joy but you can see the tips of his finger trembling. )

"For you to admit it in your own words instead of agreeing with me."

He's too lazy to admit that he won't.

You're getting tired of saying it for him.

[RESET]

Okay, you know better. You can't come across too hard onto Sans. (heh) You can't be too dominate, can't be too, too assertive, too blunt. You can't peruse him like prey because he'll retreat back into his shell. But you can study him like a bug beneath a microscope. Your mistakes are laid out bare before you. And with all of it in mind, you set out to fix them.

Across these timelines (how long has it been now? 4, was it 6? maybe even 9? You've gotten so caught up, you know it's somewhere close to the double digits. That's kind of embaressing. All this time combined would've equated someone's journey from childhood to adulthood.

But no one remembers, no one cares. No one can care, and if someone was beginning to show some kind of suspicion you'd just erase their memories with a snap of your fingers, reloading to a time to interact with them in a way that doesn't raise that sort of suspicion.

Mother didn't raise a quitter, and in doing so, you've built yourself piece by excruciating piece to mimic the traits of a shapeshifter. You can be anyone and everyone for him. You've bent over backwards for him, molding yourself into the closest it physically gets to being his soulmate, or what occurs when you're in his shadow. You've become his best friend, and his worst nightmare. A voice in the back of your mind considers your denial of his agency a sick form of entitlement, maybe. But in this world, you are the judge, jury and executioner of the fate of every timeline.

[RESET]

Across one lifetime, you hold yourself back. You soften the edges of the current personality you've manufactured and allow him to be the one to pull you out of yourself contrasting the numerous times you've pulled down his hoodie. He offers you his jacket while he sees you shambling around Snowdin and you notice he's more willing to initiate conversations, whether they be related to deep philosophical concepts or insulting you with a barrage of puns. He sees himself as someone who protects you at a distance. A safety net for when things go terribly. But even when they do, he's no where to be found. And when he shows up? He congratulates himself for not letting you die. In some timelines, he has his doubts. In others- he's still not letting you get what you want.

[RESET]

You combine personalities across various timelines, losing aspects of yourself as you mold yourself using traits (both subconsciously, and consciously) of other individuals personalities. You're convinced Papyrus may or may not have influenced you as you find yourself acting more assertive and blunt, straightforward with what you want. You find yourself keeping your heart soft, showing decency to people who cross your path. You cook. You clean. You nag. You begin to look after yourself and others. Sans doesn't mind the extra help around the house. But once you perfect this version of yourself, it's too late. It reminds Sans too much like Papyrus, just without his dreams of popularity. And he views you like another sibling. So similar to the family, you were mistaken as a skeleton with skin.

Maybe you start counting timelines where he friendzones you, just for fun. 🩵

[RESET]

You're staring to get desperate. This is a man who unironically makes people laugh with fart jokes. How difficult is this?

[RESET]

in another timeline, you're inspired by the ways he's interacted with you in the past. the way he goes about his day without a care in the world, how he can fall asleep in the most inconvenient of places and situations; how he puts so much effort into putting in no effort at all. you take the time to study his mannerisms, the way he shuffles across the snow, hands in his pockets, hunched over. his eyelids heavy to keep himself from falling asleep as papyrus recites why he's so excited to show a puzzle you've seen over and over again. sans needs someone to match his energy, much to the annoyance of papyrus. You finish his puns. You laze about at Grillby's. You fall asleep next to him- twisting your body to fit into that stupid sentry station he's also napping in. You match his energy. You feel yourself connected to him in a way that's never worked before. You're finally on the right timeline.

Until he admits he doesn't want to date a carbon copy of himself.

Sigh.

Back to the drawing board. [RESET] You act mysterious. [RESET] - You read more.

[RESET]

You're more guarded

[RESET]

You're softer. [RESET]

You study physics. STEM. Astrology. Astronomy. Biology. Machinery. Complex Computer mechanisms.

[RESET]

You kill him out of frustration. Then you feel bad. You reload, feeling the crushing weight of your regret suffocating alive, and then kill him again and again. You pretend that look of shock he gives you is his look of surprise when you confess to him in a timeline where he finally develops feelings for you.

[RESET]

You're beginning to get restless. What does he see in you that's so undesirable? You've shaped yourself into countless identities, countless versions of yourself that he couldn't possibly say no to. Everytime he pulls away, every time he says no, you simply rip off your skin and regrow a new version of yourself and try again. At this point you're wearing a skinsuit of yourself.

[RESET]

Who even are you?

[RESET]

If there's one thing you're aware of, it's that you know Sans. You've seen the slight tremble in his hand as he comes up to cup your cheek. The hesitation in his voice when he confesses his love. It's the way his grin falters when you approach him, morphing into something tense. From the shock of seeing the one he loves the most. You've seen him laugh because of you, and you've seen him bleed because of you. And that's love isn't it? Knowing someone completely.

If there's a part of yourself that sans doesn't like, you reset, recalibrate. Reconstruct. It's really no big deal. Overtime, it's become easier to soften the edges, tweak dialogue; turn yourself into someone more desirable, someone less threatening, someone less suspicious. Turn into someone who isn't out for blood sweeter. Safe.

And if he doesn't like that?

You will abuse that reset button until the world bends the way you want it. And he can't leave you. If he does, you'll just reset the timeline and court him again with a version of you that doesn't frighten him. You know what makes him tick. You know what makes him actually happy, what makes him depressed stars above, you know more about him than he knows about himself. You know what scares him. You know how to make his eyelights disappear and what makes his vocals tremble. You know how to break him. And he's powerless to do anything about it. Why? Because you hold the power of his- and everyone's fate in your hands.

He can hide. But you'll always find him. He can run. And you'll always follow, always two steps ahead despite lingering behind. He can hate. You'll love. If he fights, you let him- just long enough to tire himself out for you to be able to cradle him in your arms.

Oh, he could kill you. Over, and over and over again, slamming you against the wall until your skull cracks painting the underground with something red and human. Impaling you with bones that kiss every inner organ as it slices through your body. He drowns you in his magic until your lungs burst. And somewhere, inbetween his pleas for you to end this run he begs: 💙 "if you really loved me, you wouldn't come back." 🩵

Awh, his begging is precious. (Oh, there’s no reason to fight him into submission. You already have the collar tightened around his neck. All he needs to do is kneel.)

Sans is inherently wrong. Because you do love him. Right. Right, Right?! You love him enough to save others in the process.

You love himself enough to drag yourself through a thousand timelines and rewrite the world to create a future both you and him can enjoy. You keep coming back because you love him. You love him more than you love yourself. You love him more than he loves himself. You love him enough to want to know how to be the perfect partner. Isn't that's why you keep coming back.

At some point in time, your fights become less of a mission to destroy his world, and more of an excuse to initiate a form of intimacy. You'll die a thousand times over whenever he spares you if it allows you to feel the way his phalanges brush against your cheek ...practically romance [RESET]

But even then, that becomes boring. By now, you've danced every dance. You've squeezed every last bit of novelty out of him. He's made you bleed as many times as you've broken him. You kill him a few times. Just to remind him who's in control. Out of frustration. The adrenaline rush is addicting. To see hold him in your arms as he dusts- a way to make up for the denied intimacy by feeling the warmth of his blood stain your clothing and hands. [RESET]

This timeline is different. That's fine. You like surprises.

For a moment, he stands there, like a deer in the headlights. Like a prey staring up at its hunter. 🩵 "hehehe the old whoopie cushion in the hand trick." He greets you with a smile, his expression warm despite the cold climate. The gaze in his eyesockets are softer than usual. A flicker of something. Fear? Love? The way he stands is tense. As if preparing every bone in his (non existant) body is ready to take off. 🩵 "it's ALWAYS funny." You notice the delay in his voice. The way it shakes for a quarter of a second before it smoothes over. Yet, you can't help but notice the way his smile is carved into his skull, etched into his face like a mask paired with the way he hides the tremble in his voice with a chuckle. 🩵"anyways, you're a human right? that's hilarious. i'm sans. sans the skeleton." He gives you a playful wink, exactly how you like it. The way he says human is like he's complimenting you. (It sounds scripted. The affection sounds forced, but you give him credit for trying. It's romantic ...and refreshing to be persued after all.)

🩵 “i’m supposed to be on watch for humans right now…but… y’know. i don’t really care about capturing anybody. my brother however...” His hands find yours. Cold phalanges meet your own cold fingers. And it's like he notices. He presses his teeth to your knuckles- the closet thing you can get to a proper kiss before he strips himself of his jacket and gives it to you.

With a courteous nod, you thank him. And he mirrors your movements, almost relieved you didn't say more. He promptly switches the conversation to the topic of his brother, taking your hand and leading you through the gates. He looks like he's been reunited with the one he loves. But you can see it in his eye sockets.

His soul is screaming.

This is more than enough. He's behaving. Finally. After endless timelines. After countless resets. After all that effort. After all the bloodshed, and fighting, after ripping your soul out over and over again for him. He finally loves you. He’s trying so hard—pushing through the fog of his own brokenness to reach you.

He takes you out on dates. He puts the effort in to make himself look presentable. He brings you flowers and homemade chocolate (courtesy of Papyrus.) He leaves you flirty puns on sticky notes in the morning. He wraps his arms around your waist and leans his skull against your shoulder. You can feel his soul beating through his ribcage. It's almost perfect. (You don't mention how you notice the way he flinches when you touch him. You see him scanning your expression, studying your body language, quick to react in your favor when your mood shifts. There's a strain in his voice whenever he flirts with you. It doesn't annoy you, but you notice how often he trips over his words while he apologizes and shuts down- whatever retort or comeback he had prepared dying in his throat.)

Often, he wakes up in the middle of the night, holding the diagonal scar that runs down his chest; hyperventilating. His hands run across his skull, grabbing at his shoulder to anchor himself. His eyelights dart across the room frantically. It doesn't take much to wake you. You feel his gaze linger on your body and you're awake. You shift in your position and look up at your lover. He forces himself to calm down, taking one deep breath after the other, his body instinctively relaxing. He reaches a trembling arm out to ruffle your hair.

🩵 "heh. it's just one of those nights. guess you could say whatever i dreamt about got me pretty rattled up." You can see it in his eyes. He is silently begging to be held. Even as you hold him in your arms- kissing his skull and grazing the scars against his ribcage that you left in a previous timeline, he doesn't stop trembling. He flinches, quickly intertwining his fingers with yours and placing it inbetween yours and his body. (It's calculated. Rehearsed.)

🩵 "sorry. don't worry about it. didn't mean to leave you bone-ly," he quickly adds barely above a whisper. His voice is panicked. He swallows hard. "i just... can't. hehehe. dunno what's wrong with me tonight. but we can later, okay? i'll give you whatever you want, i just need... a minute."

You pretend not to hear the pain in his voice and respond by holding him tighter. And he freezes. His bone goes stiff, as if expecting a blow. His breath catching in his non existent throat.

Despite the primal fear in his eye lights, You can tell he wants this, more than anything else. He's finally staying in his place, refusing to pull away from your grasp. Neither is he pushing you away. By that look in his eye, you can tell he's not planning to use one of his shortcuts to teleport to Grillby's to escape this moment.

He did so in previous timelines, but in this one? The thought never crosses his mind.

Instead, he shifts closer to your side, his forehead pressed against yours. He's shaking. So delicate, like he can fall apart in your hands. He's gotten days worth of sleep and he looks exhausted.

🩵 "love ya," he whispers into the silence, his voice breaking. "more than you're aware of."

It'll take a few resets to help shake off that nervousness, but if there's one thing that's finally certain: He's yours.

[sociopathicartist]

Hello, I was wondering if you could do a headcanon of UT sans jealous, I always wondered if he had insecurities like that

guess who got their laptop case fixed!! i can finally write again! and of course, i can write that. hope you enjoy!

(my next post will be a work discussing my thoughts and opinions on Deltarune Sans and Toriel since the recent chapters were AMAZING but really threw off my game for how I view sans, haha.)

Undertale Sans jealousy headcanons

— So, personally, I don’t feel like Sans would be someone to get jealous easily. He obviously would trust you if he’s dating you and wouldn’t get skeptical that you’re trying to make him jealous or that you’re catching feelings for someone else, you’re a grown adult and have adult friends. You don’t get skeptical when he hangs out with Toriel alone, so why would he invade the wall of trust you guys have when you go out to hang out with your friends?

— However, while he isn’t easily insecure and is not a jealous lover, there are definitely certain predicaments where he might get a bit jealous, because, well, who wouldn’t?

— I’ve struggled a bit (i’ve rewritten this 4 times… so struggled.) to think of situations where Sans would be jealous. The one that keeps popping into my mind is the emotional vulnerability that comes after arguing. Sans is mature despite his childish humor and knows that when both of you are upset with each other it’s important to take some time to calm down before regrouping and either apologizing or finding a solution to the problem that caused the argument.

— But, when you’re both calming down, there’s the emotional vulnerability, and I feel like that might be the rarer situation where Sans would get jealous. Hearing you call and laugh with one of your non-mutual friends, or maybe you’re going out to shop or eat lunch with someone, and have a good time to help you regain your mental peace of mind. Nothing is wrong with that! He’s glad you have a healthy relationship with you’re friends and can rely on them to cheer you up when you’re upset with him.

— It’s just- He can’t help but feel the twinge of jealousy in his soul. You’re laughing with someone that’s not him, you’re upset with him! You two haven’t made up yet and he’s starting to feel like a wounded dog over here, it’s natural for him to be jealous.

— His behavior change isn’t too noticeable, but it’s enough for you to catch on since you see him every day.

— He’s struggling to make direct eye contact with you. His usually slouched posture is suddenly tense and stiff. His words aren’t mean, but you can tell that he’s a bit snippy.

‘i thought you were busy calling with your friend.’

‘don’t you have things to do right now?’

‘no thanks, i can do this by myself right now.’

— He’s dodgy, somehow his phalanges are sweaty, and he’s giving annoyed sighs when your phone keeps getting notifications from your friend texting you.

— The behavioral change doesn’t stick around for too long. Sans always kept everything to himself until the two of you became super close, and now it feels like he’s going to explode if he doesn’t tell you how he feels within a day.

— He straight-up tells you what is wrong, he’s blunt about it. He’s jealous, and while he doesn’t have a problem with you going to your friends for comfort and he’s glad that you have a life outside of your relationship with him, it makes him feel jealous when you snub him for a while after an argument and then go have fun with your friends. He understands that you aren’t ready to talk to him so fresh after a disagreement, but he doesn’t think it’s healthy for the two of you to just stay mad at each other for hours on end without atleast having a normal conversation about how you feel.

— I was super excited to write this, but when it actually came to typing it out, my mind sort of drew a blank, haha. I feel like undertale Sans is mature when it comes to being open with his feelings and discussing problems, so him being jealous would be a feeling that he’d either brush off or would talk to you about it when the two of you are alone. Here’s some short and easy bullet list headcanons instead of the paragraphs I normally do. These are things I think he’d do or say, but I didn’t know how to incorporate them well into my normal story-like headcanons.

~ He isn’t keen on physical touch when he’s jealous. A lot of people get that desire to hug tight onto their partner or flaunt them off to prove that nobody can take them, but Sans doesn’t handle jealousy well and shuts down for a bit. He doesn’t last long before explaining how he feels to you and communicating ways to avoid it that both of you agree on so that it doesn’t become a recurring problem.

~ Sans might cook something you like when he’s jealous or upset, almost a way to cast a fishing line and hook you back into talking to him. He’s not good at baking, but he can cook well and finds that talking while eating food is always a good way to keep things light and easy for conversation.

~ He doesn’t like talking to friends about your arguments or being jealous, he thinks it’s a subject that’s private and should stay between the two of you.

~ Half of the time when he does get jealous he usually sweeps the feeling aside with a ‘it’s not that deep’ and moves on. It rarely ever eats at him to the point that he has to talk to you about it to get it off his mind.

~ Not specifically relating to jealousy, but after any moment where he’s upset with you or you’re upset with him, he becomes very clingy when you’ve both calmed down. He likes the physical comfort and when his hands wrap around you in a hug they don't let go.

[sociopathicartist]

hi my babies ! my new laptop case is coming in soon so i’ll be able to get back to my writings in a short wait :3

[sociopathicartist]

some old art of my evil boyfriend (i’ll be posting these for bit until i can fix my laptop)

[sociopathicartist]

IMPORTANT

so, my laptop case i use for my ipad so that i can write has broke :(

i’m buying a new one soon but it’ll be a bit before i can get the money and before it comes in, so i will be posting art for a bit and my writing won’t be posted until i get the laptop case back. sorry guys :(:(

[sociopathicartist]

mrrrrow it’s my baby <3

ALSO. IMPORTANT:

i’m updating my ‘about me’ page on here or whatever its called and i recommend checking it out today or tomorrow because it has a request list so you don’t accidentally request the same thing as someone else (its anon even if they didn’t submit requests anon, dont worry), and it’ll say which ones im currently working on. just helps keeps everything a bit more organized!!

[sociopathicartist]

whats up guys here’s an old art post (ill be posting some older art while i catch up on writing)

[sociopathicartist]

Hiii, could you maybe write a oneshot about the exact moment (UT) Sans fell in love with the reader? Idk if youve done something like this before, so feel free to ignore this if you have :)

Love your writing btw!!! The way you write Sans feels pretty spot on to me in a lot of aspects and its so refreshing to see

hey, of course, i can. thank you for the compliment on my writing, i put a lot of effort into understanding his canon personality. i wanted to do a chapter from SANS pov, i haven't done that in a while. hope you enjoy, my lovelies.

i’m trying to journal my thoughts again, like you’ve egged me into doing.

sometimes when i laugh i hear your laugh in mine and i think of you.

i didn’t notice i was doing that, it’s funny to me to think about how we’ve spent so much time together that i’m slowly becoming like you, similar to how you’re becoming like me. it’s true, though. i laugh and in my voice, i hear the way you laugh- just like how you have been around me countless times- and i think of you. it makes me a bit sad. that’s weird, i guess. or… weird for me to admit it out loud? i’ve become a lot more attached to you than i’d like to admit. is that weird too?

there’s no point in trying to not miss you either. you’ve left your trace all over my house. paps is cleaning the kitchen and sees the mug you always used, still imprinted with your chapstick around the rim with an unfinished drink at the bottom. i’m making my bed for once and i find your shirt that you left on my mattress that got left to be wrapped up in my pillows in blankets. it still smells like you, and maybe this is weird too, but i can’t bring myself to bring it back to you right away.

you also left your hairbrush in my bathroom. how’d you know i needed that? anddd, you left behind a box of advil for those headaches you get all the time. it’s halfway full, you’re probably looking for it in your bedroom.

i can’t help but leave some of the stuff you leave to just sit there right where it was until you return. it’s not me being lazy (for once), but it’s almost like if i just look at the mug resting on my nightstand that you abandoned when you left in a hurry, i can gaslight myself that you’re just in the other room tidying yourself up before you come back to lay with me.

sometimes at night, i hear the hum of my fan whirring in the background when i lay my head down on the pillow. this is another weird thing to add to your mental list, but i’ve begun to listen to the fan whirring and pretend like it’s the quiet hum of your soul that i hear when we’re tied up with each other. it’s a bit difficult to sleep without the faux noise now.

it’s embarrassing to admit, and as much as i blabber onto you about weird shit, i don’t think i’ll ever be able to bring myself to tell you that one. maybe one day when we’re both older and i’ve memorized every nook and cranny on you i’ll confess these weird things to you in a whisper during the night.

there was this time i recall now actually, it was a few months back. you were hanging out with the friend group at our annual new year’s party. you had on this outfit that caught my short gaze, which i discovered later that night that you purposefully wore to get my attention. you know me so well, don’t you?

anyways. it was probably an hour or two after the countdown. alphys was asleep on tor’s couch while undyne watched the ongoing anime on the TV with paps. you were sitting next to papyrus, and i was being a bit of a creep and took upon the task of watching you sit there beautifully from the other side of the room. i don’t know why i do that, i’m your boyfriend and have full privileges of wallering on you, but i just can’t help myself to enjoy watching you when you’re unaware that you’re being looked at. you look amazing when you laugh, by the way.

you had sat down on the couch next to papyrus a bit too quickly, and your drink splashed a bit and hit papyrus’ cheekbone. you laughed about it and brushed your thumb up along his face to wipe away the punch, and… i don’t know. seeing you just getting along with my brother, smiling, looking content and happy… it was like the air around me weirdly felt like the same air i breathed in to ventilate my magic. i just knew.

not that i didn’t love you before that moment. i loved you long before it was romantic, you were my best friend for god knows how long (two years and twenty-four days before you confessed, i definitely know). i guess that was when i just sort of realized, ‘wow, i actually really want to tell you i love you before you leave to go back to your house tomorrow.’

i don’t think i told you for a few weeks after that. i couldn’t keep in my feelings long enough, i’m usually shut off but you’ve worn me into a good habit of talking about my day and my feelings for so long that it’s become hard to keep stuff from you.

every night that i hung up the phone after calling with you all day, every time you fell asleep in my arms, every time i watched you leave my house, i wanted to tell you.

i don’t know why i didn’t do it sooner, to be honest. i always knew you loved me, i can tell just from looking into your eyes and seeing the enamorment you have from watching me just exist. not that i’m judging, i’m no better than you are. if it wouldn’t bust my kneecaps into pieces i’d be falling to my knees just from the sight of you… probably.

saying ‘i love you’ was well rewarded, a bit of a buff up to our relationship if i say so, but i guess i thought it would complete that longing feeling i had every time you had to leave. ending things with a sweet ‘i love you’ when you leave the room or my house feels complete, but it doesn’t make me feel any better when i still see the traces of you left everywhere.

my slippers that have basically become yours with how much you’ve worn them around my house, conveniently kicked off by the front door.

some food you made for paps and me when you came over yesterday, packed away in a tupperware container resting on a shelf in the fridge.

your footprints on my rug from when you shuffled over to my bed and hid yourself under the blankets so that i wouldn’t try to grab and tickle at you anymore.

a tube of cherry-flavored chapstick that you left on my nightstand that never fails to make kissing you taste yummy.

is it weird i find you in everything, even when you’re not here?

i don’t know. i know that i miss you. i love you. i’ll see you tomorrow.

goodnight.

- sans

[sociopathicartist]

hi guys! sorry i haven’t been posting, finals week is stressing me OUT. i have a bunch of posts (mostly drawings) saved up for you guys and ill be back to uploading normally by this upcoming week, love you guys <3

[sociopathicartist]

okay… next post was this, next post is a oneshot from inbox, lol. i just had to share this :3

(my first digital work in a WHILE be nice!)

[sociopathicartist]

edited and raw images!

so… i know he’s left handed but just ignore that i accidentally drew him writing with his right hand. anyways, the next post is an inbox request of UT (classic) sans. <3

[CLICK IMAGES FOR BETTER QUALITY]

[sociopathicartist]

raw photo from my sketchbook 😛

i always write / draw him being evil so here is him being a bit silly (featuring killer)

[CLICK ON IMAGE FOR BETTER QUALITY]

[sociopathicartist]

NEED SOME MORE NIGHTMARE CRUBS, I AM EATING YOUR WRITING UPPP

here you go :)

PART 5 OF THE SERIES APRICITY

TW: MENTIONS OF TORTURE / ABUSE

Obfuscate - To throw into shadow, to darken, to create unsurity.

If someone asked Nightmare when he began to like you, he would laugh in their face.

Him? Like anyone? No.

It wasn’t just that he was self-absorbed and conceded, but he emotionally could not love people. He was made of negativity- evil. It consumed his being and made him crazy. Loving someone was impossible, and liking someone was extremely difficult for him when he sought out the flaws in everyone except himself. You were no exception.

He was merely… Amused by you. You despised him, and honestly? It pissed him off. But he was also intrigued by your confidence and persistent denial of him despite the fact that it didn’t benefit you in any way possible.

If you ran, he could cut off your legs.

If you talked back to him, he could rip out your vocal cords.

And you weren’t stupid, you knew how strong he was and that he could not only strip away any freedom you had- but kill you at any given moment.

But yet, you disobeyed his rules. You were clearly testing your limits on what you could get away with, and he had half a mind to smack you across your pretty face for being so difficult with him- but he was just so….

So…

…

Amused.

How could he not be? He was giving you a luxurious room, delicious meals, and comfortable clothes- you had your every whim tended to while you were in the castle. Anything you asked for you would receive.

And yet, the only thing you asked for was for him to let you go.

Weirdly enough, your refusal to give in to him and accept your life now reminded him of himself whenever he was just a child.

Stubborn. Arrogant. Looking up at the night sky and wondering if this is all that the world has to offer you. If being bullied, mistreated, and stuck was all you would know.

Fortunately, that was not his life anymore. It hadn’t been for five hundred and six years. But he had a good hunch that it was becoming yours.

It was almost like he was watching a rat in a maze. He was so intrigued by what you would try to do next in an attempt to set him off, and it was hilarious to see you try to make friends with the three idiots working for him. They were psychotic murderers who wouldn’t be entranced by your kindness. They’d murdered families, innocent people, and children, whose to say you weren’t next?

Not that he would let them kill you. He wanted you to break first. He wanted to see as you became apathetic and cruel when you realized that no matter how hard you tried- you would never escape. He could already see you beginning to lose yourself, it was apparent just by looking at your disheveled state, and god did it make him feel good.

He had taken you from his brother, removed you from the comfort of your home, and stripped your freedom right from your hands. Since you had absorbed his magic after he stabbed you upon your first meeting, his negativity didn’t affect you as it did most people who could feel. Every negative emotion that came from you was genuine and untainted, and that made you so much more fun to toy with.

So… he just couldn’t grasp why every time you looked at him seeking comfort, he felt… pity? He had grown to look at you almost like you were some pet of his that he could take care of.

Nightmare’s cruelty reminded him of how he was treated before he became corrupted, and it was baffling to him that you sought him out after everything he’s put you through. It didn’t make sense, and that was all the more of why he took fascination in studying you.

Nightmare had spent the past five hundred and six years curating his life. He’s built the luxurious castle he lived in, he had an outstanding staff, many allies up his sleeve- and not to dote- but extremely strong powers. There were no true multiversal gods, but he might as well be the next best thing. Anyone who denied those factors was just ignoring his potential, because, like it or not, Nightmare is all those things. The only real competition against him was the other guardian- Dream- and even then he still struggled to compete.

But despite being made of evil, Nightmare wasn’t all horrible. He didn’t like killing people, (it took away the energy he could milk out from torturing them), he wasn’t prone to lashing out or yelling very much, and he had some rather peaceful hobbies.

He didn’t know what you thought of him, but he had a pretty good idea.

For one, he saw your interest in him despite how much you tried to hate him. You had tried to picture him as some… thing, to de-personalize him. It was obvious to him how much you derealed him when he kept seeing the shock in your expression every time you found out about his hobbies or normal life. It was like it was incomprehensible for you to think about Nightmare doing things without it stemming from evil.

Yes, he liked to read. Yes, he was calm and composed unless provoked. Yes, he enjoyed small moments where he could be alone and listen to the rainfall. He had a personality, he was almost likable. He could see how frustrated that made you. You couldn’t de-personalize him no matter how hard you tried because, at the end of the day, he was still someone.

It was so fun to keep you teetering between hating him and loving him, he’d do something so horrible that it left you destroyed and speechless, and then he would win you over with your favorite flowers and the swear of a date as soon as the bruise on your neck healed.

Nightmare was convinced that you would keep him entertained until the day you died.

Just like he did once.

He hated reminders of his old life.

It was part of why he was a bit gentler with you. It made somewhere deep down in him feel like he was healing the part of him that died when you smiled despite how much he hated the positive energy. Not that you or anyone else would ever know that- he never shared anything personal about him with anyone.

He did, however, log down his personal feelings into a journal sometimes.

It wasn’t very often that he did so, maybe once or twice every century or so. He wasn’t too fond of the recreational hobby, but he did find that his isolation had consumed his thoughts, and since he didn’t like anyone enough to truly conversate with them, he journaled in a small, black-leathered book tucked away in the third drawer of the desk in his study.

There was this time when you caught him writing, now that he recalled it. Nightmare had been busy scouting the multiverse for a good AU to target and he hadn’t been at the castle for a few days. He came back at night, when everyone was supposed to be asleep in their quarters whether they were resting or not.

How long had it been since he’d logged down his thoughts?

The guardian sat down at his desk and flipped through his leather journal until he found a blank page with an old log next to it. He briefly checked the neatly printed date at the top right corner of the page, reading:

‘December 21st, 1732’.

Damn. His birthday two hundred and ninety-three years ago. Odd.

Nightmare wasn’t a sentimentalist, obviously, so he didn’t ponder on the date and he took out his favorite calligraphy pen and began to scribe down what was circulating through his mind.

Some details about the past two hundred and ninety-three years, some notes about the AU’s he’s discovered, some internal thoughts and questions he had. Writing once every few centuries led him to have a lot to say, so the pages filled up easily.

“Nightmare?”

He froze in his writing upon hearing your quiet voice call out for him. For the first time, you’d caught him off guard.

Nightmare didn’t even bother to look at you before he resumed his writing at a slower pace. “I didn’t give you permission to be in here.”

“I’m not in here.” You responded.

At that, Nightmare looked up from his book to spot you. Well, technically you weren’t in his study. You were standing just outside the entryway staring down at him quietly. There you go again, testing him.

“No, you’re not in here,” Nightmare remarked, capping his calligraphy pen and setting it down on his desk before he closed his book. “What do you want?”

You shrugged, fiddling with your thumbs out of habit. “I don’t know. Just to see you, I guess. You haven’t been around recently.”

To see him? You’ve sought him out before, but this was the first time you’ve openly admitted to wanting to see him. It seemed like the months in the castle had finally grown an urge for you to cling to the only constant person in your life.

Nightmare didn’t say anything at first, staring at you with an unreadable expression. If it was anyone else, he would have told them to leave and quit bothering him the moment they showed up.

But…

“Well, you can’t see me very well from so far away, can you, darling?” His words were an invitation for you to come inside his study, even if the nickname was said in a degrading manner.

You hesitated for a second before slowly stepping past the entryway and into the dimly lit room. Nightmare hated bright lights, so every room in the castle was dimly lit with ambient lamps or candles. It was aesthetically pleasing, really.

“I’ve been wondering where you went.” You spoke softly like he would get mad at you for saying anything, and you were beginning to inch over to stand in front of his desk. “You just vanished.”

Yes, the guardian of negativity did tend to do that. You were the only person who ever questioned it.

“I had some business to attend to.” Nightmare elaborated vaguely in a smooth and low tone. “I’ll be back out again by Tuesday and I will assign you to a new task.”

You didn’t say anything, and Nightmare was convinced that you weren’t processing what he was saying.

“What do you do in here?” You asked, your gaze wandering around his study.

“What?”

“You have an office and then a study, but I don’t see you here as much. Is this like the bedroom of your office?” You explained your question to him as you stepped away from his desk and went to look at his bookshelves.

Hm. You had such a weird way of thinking, but oddly enough, Nightmare understood what you meant.

He was silent as he watched you wander before he said anything else. “Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

His study was where he kept all of his things that he didn’t want cluttering up his bedroom. The room contained some books he liked, his journal, and a few trinkets he kept neat on a shelf that he’d collected over the past few hundred years. His study was a lot more comfortable than his office, which was used for more professional matters.

It seemed that you got bored of observing his books and trinkets, and you turned your attention back to Nightmare. “I couldn’t sleep… I saw the lights coming from here and thought I would say hello.”

So… You didn’t have a purpose to being here then. You were just making conversation so that Nightmare didn’t kick you out.

“Is that so?” Nightmare tapped his phalanges in a rhythmic order against his desk as he leaned back in his chair to get more comfortable. “Well, you’ve said hello to me now.”

That was a subtle way of his segway to kick you out of his study. He was in a decent mood so he was a lot more patient with you right now.

“I have.” You walked back over to him, but you were a bit bolder this time and you shuffled behind his desk, standing next to him just a few inches away. “Are you happy with what you do?”

Nightmare turned in his chair to face you, and he stared at you in silence, the only sound being the tapping of his phalanges.

Was he happy with what he did?

Of course, he was. He had been ringing up that sweet negativity out from people for the past five hundred years, he lived in a luxurious castle full of servants, and there were millions of people across the multiverse who feared him. He had rebuilt himself into someone different, someone better. Why wouldn’t he be…

Happy?

“I mean- you’ve just been alive for so long, and-“ You stuttered over your words as you tried to explain your question, but Nightmare cut you off.

“That’s enough.” He spoke sharply. “You can go to your room now.”

Well… He didn’t appreciate your question.

You turned to leave, exiting his study and going back to your room without saying anything else.

When the sound of your footsteps faded, Nightmare was alone again, and for a good while he just stared at the entryway to his study. Your question was somehow something he’d never asked himself before, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Was being happy important when he had everything he could want? Was it even possible for him to be happy with himself?

Nightmare uncapped his calligraphy pen and opened his journal back up, smoothing out the page he left off on before his pen hit the paper and he began to write about something outside of himself. Something he hadn’t done before.

‘ I don’t hate them like everyone else, and it sickens me. ‘

…

‘I’m beginning to feel something I haven’t felt for five hundred and six years.”

[sociopathicartist]

my babbbbyyy :3

(nightmare post on sunday PROMISE i just wanted to feed you guys)

[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY]