Try me, Bones. (Gaster!Sans X Reader) Wattys2016

~*~18~*~

Colorful language, as always, now and forever.)

You thought you knew what kind of game  I was playing at, didn't you? You thought that G was turning into a loveable, beautiful person.

Well, welcome back to this bullshit again where, he wasn't really G!Sans, until the reset, my lovelies. because, he wasn't really fused with gaster until then. AHAH the look on your face is probably the look of someone expecting hell.

That expression... that's the expression of someone who's cried five times. Care to make it a sixth?)

Song: Renegade (Undertale Original Song) by: SharaX)

This chapter may not SEEM long, but it's actually 1,600+ words.)

Sorry it's short, I just HAD to give you something at least for now.)

~*~Fate~*~

~*~G!Sans~*~

~Stars~

~With each breath of frozen wind they quiver,

Shivering, shuddering, they quake in the cold, and flicker brilliantly.

They tremble with each passing gust of wind.

Their Sister-moon glows, to warm their frail spirits, in the icy storm,

They dance in the dark blankets woven by the mother-sky,

And although the stormy shadows make the light slow,

dim,

dimmer,

yet dimmer,

The night carries on,

The night carries on...

I am practically thrown off my cot by the ship's swaying, and I stagger to my feet, which touch the cold floor bare, and yet, I don't get cold.

I walk over to my desk, feet locking onto the steel boards of the ship, I pull off my sweater, feeling the fabric release my neck, and pull on my worn leather jacket, the faux fur is slightly dusty somehow, so I brush it off.

I change into my dark grey, nearly black, jeans, with the suspenders hanging down, (because they're cool) and pull on my snow boots.

It's not like I get cold or anything, but- that doesn't mean I can't be... well, hot. 

I place a cigarette between my teeth and using my lighter, I ignite it, an actual human-brand cigarette, it's not magic anymore, because I don't care anymore.

I step out into the hall, and out onto the upper-deck, leaning against the side-rails, I put my fore-arms against the icy metal bar, and take a deep inhale of the smoke from the cigarette, the ash-black fumes rise from my nasal cavity and slightly from the deep cracks in skull, making their way down my spine and ribs.

I exhale and they travel through the wind, and I smirk to myself, holding the cig between my fingers, I hear footsteps behind me.

"Bullet," I sigh, "If you're going to sneak up on someone, don't sneak up on me. I know your footsteps better than anyone."

He glances at me, and laughs slightly, the grin tilting at the edge of his lips toothy and decayed, a scar running from the edge of his right mouth, along his jaw-line, and ending down on the side of his throat.