"Oof" he says.
Wtf? Why the 'oof' all the sudden?
I might as well ask.
"Huh? What is it?" You ask.
"Ah, well the voices are freaking out" he responds, all nonchalant.
What reason would crazy people voices have to freak out?
"Wait why?" You ask.
"Something bout the forth wall breaking" he says.
Ah..wtf???
"Forth wall? Like as in with shows and games and such?" You ask.
"eh" he says, shrugging."I'm kinda concerned.."
"..one of em apparently Fell out of a chair."
"Wait how does a voice fall-actually never mind" you start to ask, but cut yourself off about halfway through, after deciding you don't wanna know.
"They don't seem to be very big fans of ink, I don't blame them either" he says.
"Wait why?" You ask.
I doubt all of them dislike him.
He's gotta at least have some fan girls in there, Considering he still exists.
"He's a sonovabich" he states, rather bluntly.
Ah well dats the truth.
"Yep" you state, very much agreeing.
"Oh, They are Demanding prayer and praise of the lord" he says, "And they are praising the recorder of the story again"
Oh right..there is a person in another world keeping a typed record of our lives..
That's kinda creepy tbh..then again, we sorta do the exact same thing.
Wait..since they are writing it..doesn't that mean they determine what happens?
"Isn't the recorder of the story technically the lord of this world?" You ask.
"Well-huh..I'm actually not too sure about that."he comments.
Well I supposed if they are only the recorder then maybe they don't get to choose how the story plays out..but that theory is probably out the window if they've ever rebooted the story.
Suddenly out of nowhere, Sans randomly starts cringing.
"What is it now?" You ask.
"The recorder wrote a song bout the previous chapters, and the background looks way to good for the actual song"he states.
Ouch.
"It can't be that bad" you say.
Why are you defending the author again?
"Well I guess some of them liked it" he says.
Ah, right..that's why.
"See, not that bad" you say.
"I..never mind"he mumbles out.
"What?"you ask, curiously.
"Idk I feel like you wood take a fence to it."he says.
Was..was that a pun?
"Pun intended?"you ask.
He starts getting flustered.
"N-no!maybe..no!"he frantically yells.
Pfft-lol
"Ha!"you shout, teasing him with some pokes.
PokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepokePokepokepokepokepoke
Error enters with a confused look on his face at the sight of you poking a flustered blueberry.
Blueberry quickly takes notice of his presence, and slaps your hand away.
Ow.
"Oh it's you." He says.
Once you take notice of Error your quick to anger.
"F*ck you bish you lied!" You yell at Error.
"ēW!-Ńø!" He screeches, recoiling away.
-_- wtf??
Then it clicks.
Oh gawd NO! WHY?!
"That's not what I-never mind.." you say, annoyed.
-
Sorry the update took so long - -;
I deleted the app I used to make Err0rs dialog for other things so I kinda felt like I couldn't continue writing it if I didn't get the app back..I still haven't...but I've decided just to change the way I make error talk. That way the lack of that app doesn't get in the way of me continuing the story. - -;
YOU ARE READING
Nothing but an error ( error sans x reader )
FanfictionY/n is strange, at least that's what everyone says. She has a love for all things unusual, and different, and that sets her apart from others because unlike them, she doesn't want to fit in. She has little to no friends, and she is perfectly fine wi...
