One shots.

Cliffside brush stroke.

Art by zandraart on Danbooru.

No ships, just angst.

It's similar to the style of last chapter, but in a more.. thought like way? 2nd pov? idk, somewhere along the lines it went from 3rd pov to 2nd pov.
i've been feeling the angst lately, i really wanna write angst with happy ending but.. yeah no.

he dies. the end.

-start-

A stroke of a brush.

A lightning striking down at a tree.

The embers of fire crackling, burning brighter and stronger with each passing second.

Wind howling, circling a cliff where a lone figure stands.

Debris from the cliff falling down against the spiky bottom. It is a steep fall, should you fall.

Soon. Soon, the only exit from this cliff will be blocked off by the burning fire.

Soon, the fire will reach towards the cliff edge.

Curious, how a fire can start and continue to grow with the rain pouring down as it is. Perhaps the deities wish for the downfall of him. Curious.

There is shouting. From multiple people. Worried shouts, angry shouts, strained and shaky shouts. They have not found him yet, not able to sense him? That would be weird. Anyone should be able to sense him by this point, he isn't even trying to conceal himself any longer.

Ah.

Deities wish for his downfall. Of course. That would make sense.

A flicker.

It seems someone has spotted him. The fire has already blocked the entry and exit of the cliffside.

Too late.

Too early.

Too early?

Oh. False hope. Too early.

There is no hope. Doomed.

Another stoke of the brush. The fire is doubled in size. The stage has reached a new level.

The people on the other side flinch away from the sudden increase in heat.

The rain is no longer pouring. Drizzling.

Mist.

There's mist everywhere, the bottom of the cliff is no longer visible.

Jump.

Don't jump.

Too late.

Wings?

No wings, they were ripped off.

They were ripped off? Oh. They were. By a brush stroke.

A brush. Paint brush?

Broom.

Broom? Broomie.

Portal? No. Magic is blocked. Deities have doomed him.

Not able to fight.

Magic will be blocked until deities have deemed him dead.

Why?

Why.

whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy-

This isn't fair.

He didn't ask for this. He didn't ask for them to put him in this nasty place.

He didn't ask for the human to play around with the monsters.

He didn't ask for the human to give false hope until it didn't matter anymore.

He didn't ask for his world to crumble and fall until all that was left was the anti-void.

He was only trying to help.

The others didn't understand.

If their world was no more, then the suffering would end along with it.

Why didn't anyone understand?

Why?

Why.

No.

This isn't the time to be asking why. The faster he's dead, the faster the others will give up on the false hope and return to their world.

Back to their suffering.

Their family.

Friends.

He doesn't have any of those anymore.

Anymore? Did he ever have any?

Surely he did.

He was a Sans just like the rest of them before, so he used to have a family. Friends. Used to. Not anymore.

When did the fire get so close?

He was lost in thought. Where are the other people?

They left.

That's good. Good.

...

His eyes sting.

It's too hot here. Hard to breathe.

He doesn't need to breathe. He will get lightheaded sooner or later, either way.

...

He doesn't know why he is crying. It is for the best.

The others didn't understand what he was doing, they were only ever hurt by it.

Why should he care if they were hurt by it? He never did before.

Sanity.

Insanity? He had lost his sanity?

Yes.

That would make sense. It is only logical.

He screamed. It was hard to hear over the crackling of the fire and rain hitting the ground.

Dizzy. He let go. Let his body fall.

Falling.

He doesn't need to see the world when he hits the ground, so he closes his eyes.

He thinks he hears someone screaming out his name.

It must be his insanity talking. Or perhaps it is an auditory hallucination.

Both, maybe.

He didn't think it would be painless. Hitting the ground.

But then again, his pain tolerance has gone up quite a lot over the years.

It is near painless. Not completely painless. But that's alright.

What isn't alright is that he survived a drop of over 500m and is conscious to boot.

He will pass out later, from blood loss or from lack of sleep? He doesn't know. He hopes for blood loss.

The others wouldn't be able to get to him fast enough. He will die here.

Eventually.

-finished-

cough.
the ending, if you hate angst, can be changed to someone saving him against all odds but..
he does end up dying in this one.

He does.

Sorry. :)