#Murder Sans

[xnzlian]

DTIYS

I made a poll on insta the other day about who should I draw for my next dtiys and Dust won! But I wanted to include Cross too cuz I got an idea for him while you guys were voting😭

Rules;

No AI, tracing, stealing !!

Use #xnzliandtiys and tag me !

There's no deadline & have fun !! :3

Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale

Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork

[nonlethal-au]

1.3 - [ ♥ PREVIOUS ] [ ♡ FIRST ] [ ♥ NEXT ]

Weeeelll.... I mean, it could be worse! Also, welcome the antagonists- also known as the edgy sans boy band <3

[ ✦ MASTERLIST ]

[ ✦ DUBBING + TRANSLATIONS + FANWORKS ]

[wingeddaydreams]

also made them a playlist which i listened to while drawing this :3

[gxlzero]

Something to die for-

[justhorrorlol]

nightmare let the dog out again

[emily-crystal]

㋰責任集合体 (Responsible Society)

Phew finally finished, you can check it out on youtube here.

Original Killer by @/rahafwabas

English translation by Moonlit_Star on Youtube

Original Murder by @/ask-dusttale

Original Horror by @/sourapplestudios

Original Ink by @/comyet

Original Nightmare by @/jokublog

IE AU and IE characters by me

[tributedreference]

As much as it is kinda stressed in canon that Killer was the first and longest running(?) of Nightmare's minions, I kinda like to think that Murder would've been maybe not the first but still the one who was stuck with Nightmare the longest. Few or no replacements, it was just Dust. I mean, like, think about it. Killer is basically just a soldier that follows commands, and it's better to have something not question your authority than to have someone feel bad about what they're doing, (especially when they can't feel good without hurting Nightmare either). He does want to feel, but Nightmare can't let that happen. Murder is the very opposite. It's mentioned in his original ask-blog that his will is almost unshakable, that AUs and other alternates are out of his jurisdiction, and that his sense of self-loathing is so bad that it's come full circle and is the one thing that won't let him kill himself. He thinks he deserves the punishment he's inflicted on his timeline. While Killer is Nightmare's cooperative, apathetic front line worker, Murder wouldn't stand what Nightmare is doing and probably resist for much longer. From word of god, he might reluctantly join in until he can find an out, only to do the bare minimum. But if you pull from other points that I mentioned above, he might just stop. He'd do nothing, no matter what Nightmare did. He wouldn't even bother trying to leave, thinking of this as his karmic justice. Plus, it's not like anyone would care if he's missing, like Colour or Horrortale Papyrus. Dust would just loiter in his room or cell, not giving the time of day. Killer might wander by with Horror every so often only to go "And to your right is a Sans in its natural habitat" or something, only for Murder to shut himself out even more. Shame he's still a brilliant back-up battery of negativity for Nightmare to get rid of him completely.

[remyyniscent]

It was supposed to be a quick sketch I swear-

(Im so proud of how Crossy came out omg TwT)

Dust belongs to ask-dusttale

Horror belongs to sour-apple-studios

Nightmare belongs to jokublog

Killer belongs to rahafwabas

Cross belongs to jakei95

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Reading my drafts and came across an entire post about mock executions, how they’re a form of psychological torture, and how something similar can apply to killer and likely dust as well on a more pervasive and severe level what was I on about bro

[ask-the-dark-sanses-and-more]

got inspired by liminal spaces

thought he would definitely break the rules lmao

this image was found on r/liminalspace

[marusvoid]

I've had a headcanon for so long now that horror sans(the more canon one) has an anonymous account on the undernet where he posts the most blood boiling rage bait content , not to get attention or anything, just to piss people off and ruin their day.

And cross seems to be the one to fall for it the most for some reason.

Dust doesn't give two shits.

Killer finds the content very entertaining , much to horror's dismay.

And nightmare , although he isn't very active on undernet, appreciate the chaos it creates.

Fell has a hunch that however's behind the account is doing this on purpose and is their number 1 fan lmao.

[what-have-i-unleashed]

rebound.... almost failed!!

don't look at this and don't perceive me good gods what have i done to deserve this fuckass doomed ship brainworms please someone save me out of this pit PLEASE

vermilion belongs to @peach-flavored-cyanide btw...... curse you for this

it was a mistake.

or maybe it wasn’t.

maybe you need it. maybe you just crave it – that familiar pain of kr eating at your life, blooming in your bones like something you have to earn. just like the old days. just like when he was still here.

now, you’re in the bathroom, hunched over the sink as the tap water overflows with red. your fingers grip at the edge of the counter as you try to steady your breath. your jacket is gone, your shirt is bundled halfway up your torso, and your arm – your fucking ulna – is a mess of bleeding cuts, swelling around a break that you know would be hell to set.

the cabinets rankle as you yank it open. you search and search, but the shelves are empty save for a couple of gauzes and a half-empty bottle of vodka hidden in the back like a bad habit someone tries to get rid of.

ha.

you grab at it anyway.

the cheap plastic cap clatters on the floor as you take a swig, feeling the familiar burn down your throat. it doesn’t help. not yet. but soon.

you pour some of the vodka over your arm. the pain is instant, electric, shooting up to your shoulder and running across your spine. you hiss, a startled flinch in your legs, but you don’t move away, just leaning against the sink and trying to breath through it.

when you glance up, your reflection stares back at you, distorted with its cracked visage.

bloody nose. swollen cheek. cut temple. you’ve looked worse. you’ve felt worse. but today has left you somewhat rattled. furious, melancholic, but relieved at the same time.

absentmindedly, you trace your fingers over the bruises, the cuts at your ribs and on your arm.

for a second, it isn’t vermilion’s magic that you remember, but his.

red.

you used to fight like this.

bloody knuckles. broken ribs. half a smile behind a cigarette after both of you were all done, slumped against a tree together, the closest you had ever been. he always hit hard, always hit fast, never pulled punches, never treated you like a fragile thing.

but he also knew when to stop. to say “alright, dumbass – that’s enough” when it was clear you couldn’t move anymore. to drag you back to your empty house on his back, his footprints crunching in the snow. to push you on the couch as he dug through the cabinets for gauzes and painkillers. to carefully wrap your injured hand, his hands holding yours so gently, as you watched with bleary eyes, the voices in your head whispering how easy it would be to kill him at that moment. to pass you a cigarette when everything is done, the smoke between you blurring everything both of you had.

vermilion doesn’t stop.

he keeps going, pushing and pushing until both of you are in the dirt, until you can’t even crawl away anymore, until you have to look into the red, red, red – broken in ways that can’t be easily stitched back.

(maybe that’s why you do it.

you want to see how far you can go before someone will stop you.

but nobody came.)

the vodka burns as you take another gulp. you brace yourself against the sink and try to ignore the shaking in your blood-stained hands. you can’t afford to hesitate. if you do, it won’t set right, and you have to do it all again.

(and again.

and again.

again. again. again.)

you take a deep breath.

three. two. and-

the cracking sound is wet, echoing in the dark, empty bathroom. something shifting back into the place it doesn’t want to go. you choke, but you can’t afford to stop. you can’t let yourself crumble under the weight. you have to keep going.

another.

a hiss escapes your mouth, but you try to muffle it. you don’t want to let your uninvited guest downstairs know that you’re in here, that you’re trying to fix this mess, that you’re trying to hide yourself from him. you let your head drop against the mirror, your breath struggling to slow down, fogging up the broken surface.

(it’s not the same.

but you can see it, if you don’t look hard enough.

he smokes the same way, fingers curled loosely around the cigarette, his other hand passing you the box, careful not to touch you directly.

he laughs at the same boring rehearsed jokes – the one that you have said a thousand times – all the while shaking his head and grinning just like red used to do.

he wears the same pair of shoes – red, worn-out laces, scuffed toes from all the kicking at things he shouldn’t.)

you close your eyes.

(just for a second, if you don’t think too hard, don’t breathe too deep, don’t let reality set in-

it feels like he’s still here.)

[anitablogs1931]

Chat, trust me… trust me I’ll post more Drifterverse content here

For now… here’s DV!Murder cursing at you for some reason

And Dawn, my husband ❤️😛

[gxlzero]

someone slap me please

[swiftmitsu]

animation practice???

IDK WHAT THIS IS i just zoned out and locked in one day and this came out

breakdances

[zeldareference]

first date omg 😍😍🥰🥰🥰

horror sans belongs to Sour-Apple Studios