
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9294704.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Undertale_(Video_Game)
  Relationship:
      Underfell_Papyrus/Underfell_Sans, Sans/Papyrus, Sans/Gaster, Underfell
      Sans/Gaster
  Character:
      Sans, Gaser, Papyrus, Unnamed_dead_mom, Undyne, Alphys, more_to_be_added+
      -_Character
  Additional Tags:
      Rape, non-con, Pedophilia, Violence, Beating, Emotional_Trauma, mental
      trauma, Verbal_Abuse, Abuse, Sexual_Abuse, Mental_Abuse, suicidal, Sex,
      king_AU, not_related_to_original_game_or_in_game_settings, Death, Gaster
      is_fucked_up, Sans_takes_it_and_is_unhappy, Papyrus_is_unaware_but_not
      for_long, Pregnancy, forced_pregancy, Abortion, Soul_Sex, forced_soul
      sex, ecto-genitals, it's_really_bad_guys..., more_to_be_added_-_Freeform,
      Angst, unbetad, there_will_be_grammar_mistakes
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-01-12 Updated: 2017-05-11 Chapters: 11/? Words: 70774
****** Wonderful Lies and Ugly Truths ******
by Keelynoelle
Summary
     If you saw something, you kept quiet. The maids kept quiet as they
     cleaned the soiled sheets. The knights kept quiet as they heard
     muffled screams and cries. The servants kept quiet as King Gaster
     left his son's room at night, flushed and smirking. Sans kept quiet
     after his father left, knowing that even if he called out, no one
     would come.
      
     INCOMPLETE! Permanent hiatus.
Notes
     Warning: Non-con, rape, past pedophilia, hinted forced pregnancy, and
     incest.
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Chapter 1 *****
Sans often recalled his happy childhood in times of need. When the silence took
over or when the struggles he endured became too much he simply left himself in
hopes of becoming lost in the memories of his past. The happier times of his
youth with his mother beside him. Times where he'd smile and laugh not thinking
of where he was or who he was. Never once pondering the past nor the future for
both seemed so distant. He was but a child with his mother.
Sans loved his mother. She was the single ray of sunlight in his gloomy world
but cruelty took her far too early. She died giving birth to Sans' brother
Papyrus. A child she truthfully didn't want but she didn't want Sans either.
Sans didn't, of course, know this at the time. All he knew was that he failed
to live up to his father, the king. His father needed an heir, and the queen
needed to give him one. However, the queen, Sans' mother, struggled to even
give birth to Sans. It had nearly killed her and left her bedridden often
throughout Sans' childhood. Sans was a disappointment, though. He was no king,
no heir, but the princess and so another child was needed. Due to her illness,
Gaster, the king, allowed his wife time to recover before he'd demand another
child. Though all of this was unknown to Sans for quite some time, his father's
empty presence and scornful looks were enough to display his true feelings. He
grew up seeing his father as the king and nothing even close to a father. He
supposed even in the future this would remain.
As a child, Sans was ignorant of a lot of things he'd later find quite ironic.
He had no idea how sick his mother was nor how much his father hated him. He
had no idea his mother suffered due to the marriage forced upon her. He was
blind to the horrific acts Gaster did to his queen, and till this day regrets
never helping her despite knowing he'd be useless. His mother was strong, far
stronger than he'd ever be. Even in the face of the king, she did not quiver or
waiver. Even ill and body shaking with the chills of a fevered sweat she still
challenged Gaster's gaze, her eye lights never faltering. She was the queen and
not his queen. This frustrated Gaster to no end but the queen would often
snicker about it as she cuddled with her son. She never directed those eyes to
Sans. They were only ever warm and loving.
Her sickness never got better but Gaster grew impatient. The queen had gone
three months without a fever so the king planned to use this good fortune to
his advantage. He forced a child upon his queen and soon Sans' mother lacked
even the strength to leave her bed. Sans' mother was cynical and jaded for a
month, never cruel or hurtful to Sans but she'd tell him thing Sans knew he
shouldn't be aware of. She'd spit evil truths of the entire realm and
information she was supposed to take to her grave. She'd often warn Sans about
the king and even at times frighten the child with how desperate and frantic
she sounded. Sans didn't know what most of it meant at the time, but he still
listened and agreed to whatever she wanted.
When the queen's illness got worse, her cynical outlook faded. She slept more
often than not leaving Sans alone for most of the day. She told Sans not to
worry and that the same thing happened during her pregnancy with him but Sans
found little comfort in her words. Sans complained about the baby hurting her
and selfishly taking her away, but she'd only laugh and pat his head softly.
She'd tell him that the baby would be the last she'd have and once it was born
she'd take them all away from the castle to live out in the country.
Sans would stay up for hours listening to his mother's daydreams and stories of
their life in the country. His mother would get so lost in it at times she'd
cry or go silent when the vision faded and reality returned. Sans would
sometimes comfort his mother by speaking of the dream when she was too ill to
do such. How they'd live in a small cottage with the forest and flower meadows
around them the castle not even visible from the horizon. How his mother would
be cooking stew over the stove as Sans and his sibling played outside. How
they'd all rest at night by the fire, basking in its warmth as they snuggled
under the fur blanket. How there would be no king, no castle, no laws or rules.
Just Sans, his mother, and the baby.
The day would never come, though. For the child was born and his mother passed.
The happy memories would run out and Sans was sucked back into reality before
the repressed nightmares clawed out of their shell. Sorrow and an unyielding
longing pain would often flood him but he'd ignore them. After dealing with it
for over twenty years, Sans has learned to handle the pain. There was nothing
he could do and to dwell on it solved nothing. What happened was a travesty,
but his mother did not die for nothing. The kingdom got an heir and that's all
it needed.
Papyrus, Sans' brother and the prince, was Gaster's perfect son. Sans never
hated him for taking his mother away. It wasn't his fault. Faulting him for it
would just cause a unmendable rift that would break their mother's heart. No,
Sans couldn't loathe his sibling. All he could do was love his sibling just as
much as his mother had for him. How their mother would have raised him had she
still been there to do so. Love, care, stories, and lies. Sans could not take
Papyrus and leave but he could do everything in his power to prevent him from
turning out like their father. Sans refused to fail his mother. He would not
allow his brother to become such a brutish ruler and thankfully, he did not.
Papyrus was a fine child and grew only more qualified for the throne with age.
He was not even half as old as their father and Papyrus was already wiser,
stronger, and more educated than him. Gaster had become jaded and depressed
with age. He often feared others were conspiring against him after his many
horrid choices that caused the kingdom to plummet and the council to question
him. Their kingdom was falling apart under Gaster's rule and it was only a
matter of time before the king was forced out of the throne. Papyrus would then
take the crown and rule, restoring their kingdom to its former glory.
Sans only wished it would happen sooner.
Silence consumed the room. Not even the occasional scraps of the silverware
against the plates filled with food could deafen the roaring silence. Sans kept
his head down knowing his voice would only cause an uproar and future issues.
Papyrus chewed on his meal slowly, sockets narrow as he glared at their father.
Gaster sat at the head of the table eating his meal as if nothing was wrong. He
took a long sip of his drink before cutting into his breakfast. Papyrus' grip
tightened on his fork causing it to scrap against the plate. Sans' pupils
darted over to his brother, expression blank.
“Why didn't you listen to the general?” Papyrus demanded voice shattering the
silence. Sans swallowed the food he was chewing, preparing himself for the feud
to come. He knew better than to cut it off early but allowing it to linger was
deadly as well. No, there was almost a moment to cut in and defuse the
aggression before it got out of control. And Sans knew how to find it.
Gaster looked up, biting into his bread. “Is that what you are fuming about?”
He asked with a mouthful of bread. “How childish. Has your studying and
tutoring failed?” Gaster shot Sans a look that caused him to tense. Sans wished
his brother was more considerate or at least aware of his outbursts and how
they affected him. Being held responsible for Papyrus' schedule and manners,
any outburst or idiotic statement reflected negatively on Sans.
“I do believe this issue is with your education, Father, for it is outdated.”
Sans held his breath at the insult. Gaster set down his fork at his son's
comment, room going still as all eyes were on the family. “You caused the
deaths of a hundred soldiers,” Papyrus spat in complete disgust.
“They knew the risk of being a soldier as do you. You give your life for this
kingdom. They gave theirs for the greater good. Their sacrifice was not in
vain. We concord a new city from the humans.” Papyrus slammed his fork down on
the table and Sans clutched the napkin in his lap.
“We gain nothing over the country you took! You did it only to enrage the
humans which are already threatening us!” Papyrus roared.
“And they shall start a war they will lose.”
“They offered a treaty!” Gaster inhaled, a frown on his face. He started down
at his son, gaze dominating. Sans adored his sibling, but no one but their
mother was a match for their father. Papyrus was stubborn and would not back
down but he was far from being anything close to menacing compared to the king.
“Clearly you did not read it. If you had you'd know exactly why I declined. I
gave them my demands and they failed to meet them. They are the only ones to
blame. This war is caused by them.”
“You-”
“Politics and war should not be discussed at the table,” Sans announced causing
both to silence and look at him. His timing was perfect, neither opening their
mouth to retort back at him. Gaster got the last word in, and Sans stopped his
brother before he made things even worse. “I shall take my free time to educate
Papyrus on your actions, Father, and why they are correct and best for this
kingdom. I'll also speak with Undyne and have her go over military tactics once
more and request his tutor include more manners and edicts.” Sans told his
father to please him. The king leaned back, fingers wrapped around his cup with
a knowing smirk on his face. Sans set his napkin down on his barely touched
meal and pushed away from the table. “If you excuse me, Father, I must prepare
for our meeting with the council and readjust the schedule.” Gaster just
watched as Sans fled the room, demeanor as calm and composed as ever.
Sans was the only one able to stop their battles. Papyrus had been criticizing
Gaster since he was young for it often got in the way of what he wanted.
After their mother's death, Gaster now had free control over his children that
were once so heavily guarded. He did very little at first but when Sans became
of age and was to be wed off to a wealthy prince, Gaster latched on. He changed
Sans' entire schooling schedule and studies. He was no longer some princess but
his advisor. Sans would remain here, by his side, until Gaster retired and
perhaps even after. It wasn't the best of choice, but one no one dared deny.
Sans was overworked after the announcement having years of work to catch up on
in a short amount of time. This meant he'd have to leave his brother to work
most afternoons and nights. Papyrus was upset by this, wanting to spend time
with his sibling but Sans couldn't escape his duties. As they grew older and
Gaster's choices became far more reckless and questionable, Papyrus began
openly scrutinizing his father who was far from pleased with this. Gaster would
frequently turn his rage to Sans who was unofficially the caretaker of the
prince. Sans could do nothing but try to educate his brother and keep him as
busy and away from their father as possible to spare himself the backlash.
Still, there were some instances that could not be avoided and arguments broke
out. Sans would then be the mediator. He'd please his father by telling him
what he wanted to hear and Sans would scowl at his brother who would then bite
his tongue. Sans still suffered for it, Gaster blaming him for Papyrus' sharp
tongue, but it was better than the two arguing.
“Brother.” Sans' pace did not falter at the sound of the voice but it was not a
challenge for Papyrus' long strides. “Surely you are aware of how wrong his
choice was,” Papyrus said stepping in front of his brother.
Papyrus would always rush after Sans to try to justify himself. Sans suspected
it was because he couldn't stand to be alone with their father. He'd run after
him, explain himself and asking if Sans saw where he was coming from which he
found to be quite a laugh. Little did his brother know, Sans didn't just see
his light and point of view but every other light as well. It was his job to
know what someone was thinking and then feed them what they wanted to hear.
Sans could read any monster or human, tell them the truth or lie they wanted to
hear. It often hardly matters which, Sans knew them both. He knew every dirty
lie and horrific truth. The walls whispered and Sans was always listening.
“No matter the choice it is not your job to criticize him for it. It is your
job to agree. You are his son and the prince, your opinion means very little.
However, your outbursts do nothing but inform the council you are still unfit
for the throne. As his advisor, I told him the risks and he accepts them, there
is nothing we can do,” Sans said and Papyrus huffed. Sans tried to go around
his brother but Papyrus stopped him.
“I do not believe that. Once war breaks out the kingdom will fall!” Sans took
in a deep breath and looked up at his sibling.
“Then Gaster will lose power and you shall take over.”
“And be forced to try to rebuild a crumbling kingdom! I swear he is doing this
in spite of me,” Papyrus snapped. Sans exhaled heavily before he glanced around
to ensure the hallways were clear. Even if they weren't, the servants knew
better than to spread rumors about Sans. Sans took his brother's hand and led
him into the nearest room. Shutting the door for privacy, Sans sighed and faced
his brother.
“You are heir to the throne, you know he wants nothing but the best for you. If
anything you constantly threaten him with your outbursts,” Sans said, reaching
up to cup his brother's face. “Papyrus, please, Father may make horrid choices
but one way or another the throne will be yours and someday soon. The council
is already reaching their limits with him. If war is to come, before the first
fight breaks out you will be in power to pacify it,” Sans reassured. Papyrus
sighed heavily and leaned into the touch.
“I wish you would act more like this around him.” He pouted and Sans' shoulders
deflated.
“You know my duty is to him first, Papyrus. I am his advisor, then the
princess,” Sans said, lowering his hand.
“Not when he is off the thrown,” Papyrus muttered, wrapping his arms around
Sans' waist and pulling him into an embrace. “Then you shall be my queen. You
will be spoiled rotten and never have to worry about that deranged monster ever
again.” Papyrus leaned down to capture Sans in a kiss that the princess melted
into.
Sans and Papyrus, in the prince's words, were lovers. Their relationship was
hidden for obvious reasons and Papyrus frequently used their time alone
together to display his affection. As children they often joked about marrying
one another but as they grew older their love became hidden and secretive. Sans
understood far earlier than his sibling that they'd never truly be together.
Papyrus would be given a far better bride than Sans. One that would offer him
riches, land, and prosperity. A king needed a perfect queen and San was far
from that. He had long since given up on his childhood ideals that his foolish
sibling clung too. They'd never be wed, never share a throne and one day part.
However, despite knowing this, Sans still allowed him to indulge in his one
pleasure.
Sans did love his brother. He'd love to be in his brother's arms forever but
Sans was also a realistic being. He knew pleasures should remain guilty or
secret. They were something to indulge in once in a while for too much would
cause that pleasure to become an addiction, a need. And Sans could not afford
to allow himself to have that. Papyrus deserved better. Their love was just a
secret. One that would end when Papyrus' true bride came. All this was and
would ever be, is an indulgence.
“I do have to prepare for the council meeting,” Sans mumbled between kissed.
Papyrus grunted, tightening his hold on his sibling.
“That old king can go one meeting without you.” Sans let out a soft laugh and
pulled back from the kiss.
“He relies on me far more than you know.” He told his sibling who frowned but
kissed his forehead.
“Ensure I never become as useless as he when we rule,” Papyrus muttered and
Sans made no comment. Sans never did when it came to his sibling's fantasy. He
mildly wondered what Papyrus would do if he did but Sans could never risk it.
If only for himself he couldn't dare linger on the idea for too long. Knowing
the peaceful dream would never come was torture to even think of. He couldn't
rip it away like his mother's fantasy. When the day came, he'd wean off of it,
knowing it will still hurt but he hoped not nearly as much.
“You have a busy day,” Sans announced, stepping away.
“But I will see you for lunch?” Papyrus smirked and Sans rolled his eyes.
“For reeducation.” Papyrus chuckled and allowed Sans to leave.
Sans tried to not let the guilt eat him alive when he left his sibling. Deep
down he knew his feeling were strong, but his ever so present duties prevented
him from thinking such irrational thoughts. He was the advisor first. He'd
never allow himself to slip up in his job for his brother. Not with the fear of
what Gaster would do to him if he did looming over him. Sans was collected and
stable. He needed to be. He knew too much not to. He forced himself to see his
brother and their time together as nothing but frivolous love. A quick pick-me-
up of pleasure that neither of them had intentions of keeping and knew they'd
leave behind. Papyrus would get a bride, move on, truly love her, and Sans
would smile and never once think of their time together.
Neither of them had feeling for each other. It meant nothing. It was nothing.
His sorrow and guilt meant nothing.
Sans inhaled deeply as he made his way down to his chamber where he planned to
change for his meeting. He shut the door once inside, pushing away all thoughts
to clear his head. Sans spotting his outfit laid out for him on his bed
courtesy of the staff and went over to it. He nodded in approval and began
taking off his shirt.
“And where have you been?” Sans jumped, letting out a small yelp at the sudden
voice. He spun around, clinging to his shirt to see who was in his room. Gaster
sat in a chair, finger twirling around the edge of his chalice. His body was
relaxed though his face held a cold and unsettling expression. His red pupils
bored into Sans displaying a dominance Sans was all too use to.
“You started me, Father,” Sans said, relaxing in appearance only. He kept the
shirt he removed in front of him ready to drop it or put it back on.
“Took a detour to your room?” Gaster pressed, eyes icy as they watch his son.
Sans would never be able to match that gaze. He'd never be as strong and brave
as his mother. One thing Sans did have was a face a stone and a tongue of
silver. Sans could lie and lie far better than anyone else in the kingdom. So
well he fooled the king, the prince, and himself. It was the one gift his
mother gave to him and always told him to do.
Lie to the King, for the truth, will never please him.
“No, Papyrus wanted a word,” Sans answered, his fake story already planned and
ready to use. “He followed me out, as you know doubt know. He wished for me to
explain your reasoning to him and I did. I apologize if I kept you waiting.”
Gaster pursed his lips, trying to see through Sans' full-proof lie.
“Good, so then you won't need to see him for lunch,” Gaster commented with a
smirk. Sans pretended to think for a minute before he nodded.
“I still need to speak with the tutor and Undyne but I can pass a message
along. I suppose you are right, though, your highness. My lunch is now free.”
Sans folded the shirt in his hands, turning to set it on the bed.
“You can have it with me then, after the meeting,” Gaster announced.
“I would be delighted too,” Sans said without missing a beat. He turned back to
face his father, calm smile on his face. Gaster seemed annoyed with him, grin
tense but without proper reason would never act. “Shall we have it in the
garden?”
“No, in my office.” Sans folded his hands together. He loathed Gaster's office.
“Oh? Do you need to discuss something? Is that why you are here?” Gaster stood
and slowly approached his son. Sans remained calm and collected, tilting his
head to peer up at his father's looming form. Gaster ran a hand down his
princess' cheek before he smiled softly. Sans didn't dare tense of flinch away
but nor did he lean into the touch.
“I just wanted to see you is all. Things have been so hectic I haven't had time
to visit.” Gaster raised Sans' head before he leaned down and kissed him. Sans
took but a second to reply knowing he couldn't just give into his father so
quickly. He kissed the king back and Gaster pulled away, a smug expression on
his face. “You must be so overworked with this war nonsense. I think for lunch
I could help relieve some of that tension.” Gaster's hands wandered down Sans'
bare ribs and spine. Sans arched his back, pressing it against Gaster's chest.
There was one and only one reason Sans was made Gaster's advisor. The reason
was so he could never leave his side. For Sans could never be the bride of some
other monster. He could never belong to someone else. He was Gaster's.
At the age of seven Gaster began touching Sans oddly and requesting those
touches in return. Sans was unaware and afraid and went along without a word.
At first, Gaster said these times together were lessons for Sans' future
partner. Sans needed to be educated on how to satisfy them and how to properly
please his future husband and that it was Gaster's job to teach him. Gaster
would tell him things he had never heard the monster say before. That he loved
him, he was his beautiful princess, that he was so wonderful and pretty.
Sans disliked it, he always had. His father's tongue was always too slimy
against his own or on his body. Forming magic for the king to toy with was
exhausting and made him feel dirty. Pleasing his father's cock was equally
disgusting and made Sans upset. However the one time he dared to say no
resulted in a brutal beating. Sans was fearful to ever say no again.
At ten, Gaster took Sans' purity. He had always stayed away from sex before
saying that Sans needed to be pure and untouched for his husband. However the
more they touched, the clingier Gaster got and soon, he didn't want to let go.
He forced his way inside Sans telling him that he was doing it because Sans
belonged to him now and that no one would ever have him. The next day Gaster
made the announcement of Sans' new title and a horrific feeling of utter fear
and devastation washed over Sans in an instant.
It was then he realized what had happened to his mother. How Gaster forced
himself upon her just as he had to Sans. The only thing different was that his
mother wasn't half as pathetic as Sans. Though Sans took that to heart, and
through countless beating and brutal rapes, had learned to adapt and accept his
life. Gaster was the king, and whatever the king said went. Even when Papyrus
took over Sans was already Gaster's. He had been his for far too many years.
Papyrus deserved better than Sans.
“How kind of you, my king,” Sans said softly as he shivered from the cold
fingers that touched him.
“You'd rather spend it with him huh?” Gaster purred. It turned into a growl
when Sans did not reply fast enough. Gaster grabbed the skeleton's neck,
squeezing it tightly. Sans tensed, hands shooting up to his neck. His sockets
widened, red pupils shrinking to narrow slits as his facade faded and fear took
over. “You fucking whore. You want him, don't you?” Sans grabbed his father's
hands at his neck, uselessly trying to pry it off.
Paranoia. That was something not even Sans' mask could persuade. It didn't
listen to reason and ignored all logic. And Gaster was full of it.
“No, sir!” He choked out and Gaster only applied more force causing Sans to
wheeze and struggle.
“Liar.” The king hissed and Sans desperately tried to shake his head. Gaster
suddenly released him and Sans fell to the floor gasping for air.
“No, my king!” Sans forced out, coughing and wheezing. “I do not want or desire
him.” Sans lied but he knew it would work. Gaster only wished to hear what he
wanted to. “I wish to eat lunch with you. Your highness is too kind to even
offer that let alone the pleasure of his company as well.” Sans was on his
hands and knees, arms trembling as he still panted. Composure was pointless in
these moments. Gaster enjoyed seeing him weak. He enjoyed watching Sans break
before him fulfilling a sick pleasure his wife never gave.
Unlike her, Sans begged, he pleaded, he cried. He would never be as strong as
his mother. He'd never be anything like her. He was but one of the maids she
stepped on. The snooty servants she'd sneer and glare at knowing they'd gossip
and spread any rumor they heard. If his mother was still alive she'd look at
him with disgust. Her wondrous son had fallen so low. Cowering in the shadow of
a monster who once haunted them both. But instead of standing up, Sans remained
on his knees. Why?
Because that is where Gaster liked him best.
“I do not deserve a private lunch with you.” Sans whimpered, head bowed unable
to meet his father's gaze. “But perhaps I can prove my worth and loyalty.” Sans
raised his head, raising to his knees slowly. He rested them over his father's
slacks and slowly slide upwards. A menacing smirk spread across his father's
features.
“My princess,” he cooed stroking Sans' skull. Sans leaned into the touch,
shivering against it. Gaster was paranoid, unpredictable, and deranged. Yet
despite all this, Sans would always have a way to win his father over. No
amount of honeyed words or promises could make up for his body. Gaster had made
that clear time and time again.
Sans served one purpose. It's the reason he refused to believe in the fantasy
his brother dreamed of. It was why he was never married off. Why he was made a
council member. Why he had no hope for the future and knew his fate despite the
hectic and uncertain future.
Gaster chuckled, fingers trailing down Sans' cheek to his mouth where he stuck
the head of his thumb inside. Sans' mouth dropped open, magic forming a red
appendage that lapsed at the thumb. Gaster's smirk grew as he runs a hand over
his growing bulge before pulling it out.
It was why Sans knew his place and was so devoted to his work. It was what he
told himself when ungodly amounts of grief overcame him and he couldn't leave
his room due to how horrific his sobbing was. It was what he told himself when
his bones were being healed from the medic after he had snapped them punching
the wall. It was what he told himself as he scrubbed his body raw only to feel
the filth spreading. It was what he told himself when he laid awake after his
father's visits, tears streaming down his cheeks silently as his body dripped
fluids he prayed weren't actually there.
“Come on, Princess,” He grinned, pumping his cock slowly. “Show your father how
much you love him.” Sans did not dare hesitate for even a second. He leaned
forward, hands gripping the base of the shaft as his mouth wrapped around the
head.
He was Gaster's. And nothing would ever change that.
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter Notes
     I feel like I should have mentioned I'm making this shit up most of
     the time so if it's historically inaccurate (Which is is) so *shrug*.
     Warning: Rape, mention of forced pregnancy, mention of rape, incest,
     abuse, mentions of abuse, depression.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“You will attend the council meeting without me tomorrow,” the king told his
son, buttoning up his own shirt. Sans said on the bed, sore and disgusting.
Gaster had been too busy to visit nightly like he usually did. Sans didn't
think it was possible to forget how horrific their time together can be, but
clearly, he had. His bones were wet with saliva, sweat, and cum. He wanted to
bathe in boiling water but the abuse Gaster put him through made it impossible
to move. Gaster was a violent lover, slapping or threatening Sans if he didn't
react or move as he wanted. Sans' mother never gave him the reaction he wanted,
lifeless as she was raped and the king refused to allow his new doll to be the
same way. Sans was good at knowing what he was in the mood for, though and
reacted accordingly. So Gaster now used him as a way to vent his anger.
Snapping bones, punching him, choking him as Sans laid there and took it
knowing struggling would only make it worse.
“Yes, your highness,” Sans replied numbly. Gaster smiled, now fully dressed. He
went over to his son and ran a hand over his cheek, expression nothing but
utter joy and contempt at the damage he caused.
“I did miss our times together,” He said almost longingly. He left without
another word and Sans relished in his absence.
After Gaster left Sans either had the strength to shower or didn't. Most days
he didn't, in far too much pain to move his legs. Today, he could. He was sore,
but it wasn't the worst he endured. There were no broken bones which was always
a good thing.
Sans ignored his sheets stained with marrow and cum. He teeth clenched as he
rose, unable to stop some whimpers and sobs from slipping as he used the wall
for support to get to the bathroom. He had requested a bath earlier, knowing
his father was going to visit. He hadn't used it, though, and by now it was
freezing but he didn't care. He sunk into the icy water, allowing it to numb
him and wash away his filth.
He took a shorter bath than he would like. His night sleep was already
shortened with Gaster's visit. He needed to at least be partially rested if he
is to meet with the council. So he leaves his bath and dressed, crawling back
into the dirty sheets. He'd take a better bath tomorrow, not caring what stains
got on him. No one ever said a word about them.
The first few times it happened, Sans was tense and nervous. However, when the
maids saw them they didn't even blink. With lips sealed shut and eyes cast
down, they removed the sheets and replaced them without a word. Sans never said
a word to them about it and they never approached him. They all knew better.
And just as it always went, when Sans took a hot bath the next morning, the
maids cleaned his sheets and dressed his bed. Sans exited the bathroom to find
a freshly made bed. His pelvis was painfully sore from the night's abuse.
Gaster had left numerous bruises and bite marks across his body preventing Sans
from dressing appropriately for the weather. He'd be stuck in ruffled shirts
that covered his neck for a while.
A knock came at his door but Sans did not regard it, figuring it was just the
servants.
“Isn't it too hot for that?” The prince wondered and Sans' hand stilled on the
buttons of his sleeve.
“I'm rather chilled today,” Sans quickly lied, resuming his buttoning. Papyrus
shut the door and went over to him.
“I didn't see you for lunch or dinner,” Papyrus said and Sans resisted the urge
to cringe at the reminder of it. He had left his brother waiting for no doubt.
Sans would feel less guilty if he hadn't spent the time on his knees pleasing
the king with every hole he had.
“The council and king are busy. I'm sorry I couldn't come. I had work to do.”
“He's overworking you,” Papyrus grumbled and Sans faced him.
“I am doing my job.”
“You are his saving grace and he abuses you too much,” Papyrus said, arm
beginning to coil around his sibling but Sans stepped out of them.
Sans hated it when Papyrus came to visit after his father's nights with him.
Sans felt so foul and soiled. Papyrus always wished to touch him and kiss him
but every time he did Sans swore he could see the black filth corrode his
brother's bones. Sans felt as if somehow Papyrus would find out or know what
was happening. That he'd just rip Sans' shirt open to expose his bruised body
and vomit in disgust. Sans would never allow that to happen, but it was a fear
that haunted him.
Sans and Papyrus never had sex. They barely even touched one another underneath
their clothes and it was Sans who kept it this way. Sans refused to allow
Papyrus to touch him. He didn't deserve it. Papyrus would be tainted by Sans'
body. He could only imagine the repulsive look he'll have if he ever saw it.
What Papyrus would do if he found out. He'd hate his brother, and Sans couldn't
blame him. Papyrus would see Sans for the weak and broken monster he was. He
wouldn't want him as a queen or even a brother. That fear of abandonment kept
Sans' mouth shut tightly. They couldn't be lovers, they'd never have a happy
ending, but Sans could at least keep Papyrus as a brother. For it was all he
had left.
“I need to go to the meeting,” Sans said and Papyrus sighed.
“Do I not get even a kiss?”
“Perhaps later,” Sans teased with a smile and Papyrus crossed his arms.
“I'll keep you to that.”
“Don't be late for your training,” Sans reminded his brother before he left.
With a heavy sigh, he straightened up his clothes and began making his way to
the council room.
The council was an intimidating bunch. During Sans' first encounters he was
overwhelmed by their stone-cold and unreadable expressions. They mocked him and
Gaster for choosing such a weak advisor but the king fixed that quickly. Now,
Sans was one of them. He'd never have an official chair but it was mandated he
attend all meetings regardless if they concerned him or not.
Sans stood outside the two large, wooden doors and inhaled deeply. Releasing
his breath, he opened the doors and stepped inside. The council had already
gathered but the meeting appeared to have no yet begun.
“Where is the king?” The head of the council, Gerson, the former captain of the
army and not military advisor asked.
“Unable to attend. I am here in his place.” Sans answered, standing at the end
of the long table, unable to sit.
“Can't even attend,” Flook, the monster responsible for international affairs
scoffed.
“Silence,” Gerson ordered. “With all present, the meeting may now begin.”
Gerson faced Sans, expression cold and bitter. “The king was supposed to
enlighten us on his plans for the war. His attack on the human nation caused
damage. The humans are now threatening war.”
“With seven other nations with them including three of our borders.” Flook
spat. “We either give up the territory or remove the king.”
“The prince is not ready.” Rebar, master of the laws announced. “He has no
bride.”
“Then find him one,” Muffet, treasurer spoke up. “We cannot afford this war. We
would need to increase our troops times ten, and decrease their pay even more.
They already are upset and threatening because of the attack.”
“And if we just return it they will revolt for they fought for nothing,” Sans
noted catching their attention.
“So, what is the king's decision? How does he plan to fix this?” Gerson asked
and Sans stood tall.
“The humans have been at war with monsters for centuries. The previous king
before my father was slain by a human. There is no monster nation that has yet
to make allies with them despite the fact that many have tried.”
“But treaties have been made.” Flook interrupted.
“And broken,” Sans shot back. “Such as the treaty we had keeping peace between
our northern cities and the humans that were so close. Yet the treaty was
broken when our king was murdered. Or what about the treaty of peace created by
our high king and queen Asgore and Toriel? What did the humans do? They
murdered their child.” Flook turned away, biting his tongue. “Several other
treaties have all been broken not by a monster but by a human. They only know
murder and destruction. They do not understand peace. To return the land, that
five decades ago belonged to us before it was overrun during the tragic times
of the king's death, would be weak.”
“So what do you suggest?” Gerson pressed.
“The king will hold the land. For even if we loose our border treaties with the
humans, it is not like they would have fought for us in times of need. Human
stick together just as monsters. If they have gathered seven armies, we will
gather seventy,” Sans said and Muffet faced him.
“From where?” Muffet asked.
“The king is writing letters as we speak. Asking any and all nations for
support against the humans. Over thirty-seven monster kingdoms have been
invaded in the past eight years. The humans are decreasing our number one city
at a time. It is time we fight back.”
“The humans could start a war as early as tomorrow. If they do we have no army
to match them,” Flook cried out and Sans folded his hands behind his back.
“They will not,” He said simply. “Would you?” He asked Gerson who remained
silent.
“Yes, the odds are on their side,” Flook snapped and Gerson shook his head.
“And you'd lose our entire force,” Gerson mumbled, folding his hands together.
“To attack directly like that would initiate more than just a war on our
kingdom but a war on the two races as a whole. That's not a decision you made
overnight.”
“Exactly,” Sans said. “As it stands now, the high king is waiting for the
moment to call war. Them attacking would be that moment. Asgore's army is
larger than any single human countries. Asgore could make it to their capital
before needing the aid of the rest of his kingdom. The war would be over before
it even began. So the humans will not attack. They will first wait for our
word. We can even bait with them to gather more time. Even then they will need
to summon their armies and march. The entire ordeal could take more than three
months.”
“Three months to fix all this?” Rebra said skeptically.
“Three months between fake peace and actual war. What damage will this cause to
the economy? To the people? We can't even afford to fairly pay our men yet you
wish to start a war?” Muffet exclaimed.
“It will be costly, there is no denying that. War is not cheap, council member.
However, in the land we shall claim, prosperity will grow.” Sans walked around
the table to the far wall which held a large map of their world. He summoned a
femur bone and used it to point to their kingdom.
“Our area lacks one thing, farming. We have some places in the east,” Sans
circled it with his bone, “but other than that none. However, the king took
this city.” Sans dragged the bone over and tapped it. “Connected to not just
three green countries, but the largest agricultural domain the humans have.”
“Are you saying the king was planning a war this entire time?” Rebra suggested
and Sans vanished his magic. He turned his back to the map, hand folding behind
his back once more as he faced the council with a neutral expression.
“His age may be getting to him, but he is far from a foolish king,” Sans lied.
“Father has even informed me he wished to place the prince on the throne once
the war is over. So he can take control and rebuild our new kingdom.
“He still needs preparation,” Rebra noted.
“That I will prepare him for,” Sans replied.
“A bride,” Rebra said. “His bride to be could help us with the war. Having that
added ally or supplies from their kingdom will strengthen our chances.” Muffet
nodded and the other council member faced one another.
“War is still not the best solution,” Gerson announced silencing the room. “You
have persuaded the council and stopped us from removing the king for now.
However, if this plan fails, punishment will be given and the king will be
removed.”
“Rightfully so,” Sans said, fingers curling out of view. “But preparation for
Papyrus can begin at once. So, in the unlikely event the war fails, he can take
the throne and pacify the humans. The prince has high favorability with the
army. Even if he returns the lands they will not revolt against him. He can
also choose a bride that'll open perhaps more ports or trade, allowing more
jobs in so when we lower the army's numbers and income can be made.”
“That plan has no holes,” Folks pointed out. “Why still consider war?”
“Because both plans need time. Papyrus needs a queen before he can rule and we
need armies before we can fight. Both can be done at the same time. Papyrus'
will have two bride choices, one for war so her kingdom may aid us. And if the
plan for war fails, we have a bride to aid our countries economy and start it
anew with a fresh kingdom. Either way, we still have the prince ready to take
the throne,” Rebra explained before looking at Gerson who pursed his wrinkled
lips and looked at Sans.
“And the king is willing to step down from the throne?” He asked.
“Yes,” Sans said without hesitation. Gerson watched him before he turned away.
“Inform the king of our discussions here. He has a month to make progress. If
none is taken, Papyrus better be ready. The council will come up with a list of
brides and deliver it to the king. He may choose the best or he can let Papyrus
decide it does not matter. His bride will be decided and chosen before a war is
called. Do you understand that?” Gerson raised a brown and Sans nodded before
he bowed.
“Yes, council member.” They faced away from him and Sans left.
He walked down the hall to the closest room and shut the door. He collapsed
against it, trembling as he slid to the floor.
A bride. A bride in perhaps less than three months. Papyrus will be engaged.
His brother will be king. Sans struggled to comprehend this. He had always
known it would happen. He raised Papyrus and trained him to be king yet now
that the moment has arrived Sans couldn't stop his soul from racing.
It ached. It ached for reasons he refused to admit. His brother would be taken
away from him. His brother would be gone. Once Papyrus was married Sans will no
longer exist in his life. Their time together will be forgotten. Their guilty
passion brushed aside as if it never existed. Sans will be alone. He will no
longer have his brother to go to. He will no longer have the pleasurable kiss
or touch of his brother. His one true joy was being taken away all over again.
Sans covered his mouth as he sobbed. Tears swelled in his sockets, overflowing
as his soul pounded painfully in his chest. Without Papyrus all he'd have is
Gaster. The only figure in his life, the only one touching him, loving him,
forcing themselves upon him was their father. Sans gagged, curling in on
himself.
At least when his mother died Sans had his brother to love. It helped more than
he could ever imagine. Papyrus didn't know their mother like he had. He wasn't
aware of why Sans was crying or why he was so upset, but he stilled cared.
Gaster didn't care. Gaster never cared. He didn't want to know what Sans felt
unless it was what he wanted him to feel. If Sans cried the king would not
comfort him like a lover or even a father. He would smile, relishing in the
tears he caused and even try to create more.
Did his mother ever feel this hopeless? Is this why she loved Sans so much?
Because, despite not wanting him, he loved her and was the only one there? The
thought caused Sans to cry into his knees. He loved his mother so much, yet it
hurt far too much to think about her. He tried to imagine how happy she'd be to
see Papyrus grow. Papyrus was everything she could have hoped for in a child.
He would not be a cruel and brutal ruler like his father. Papyrus would not
rape and abuse his wive. He would not force children upon them like his father.
Yet, even if Papyrus was perfect, it was Sans who was born disappointing
others. He disappointed his father by not being strong and dominating. He
disappointed his mother by becoming everything she hated and begged him not to
be. He disappointed his brother, faking love and affection for his personal
gain, unable to handle the utter loneliness his life would be without him.
And now, he'd be faced with that loneliness. In perhaps as little time as three
months, Sans could be loosing the person he loved the most all over again. Only
this time, he had no creature to grab onto. No one to save him. He'd fall into
his pit of despair and the only one waiting for him with open arms would be his
father, the one who dug the pit, to begin with.
Chapter End Notes
     Of course this is the most popular fic. You damn thirsty bastards. I
     kid.
     But, I should make it be known since a lot of you seemed worried(?),
     I will be continuing this fic so don't worry. I'm not one to abandon
     them unless I've truly lost hope and I haven't. This fic is short (or
     short compared to most I have) so I won't get burnt out or need a
     break from it anytime soon.
     That being said, I do have two other fics to attend to as well. This
     story won't be getting all the attention. I also, shock and awe, have
     a life that requires jobs, studying, and life stuff. Writing, since I
     do not get paid for it, does not take priority in my day to day life.
     In fact, in my schedule, I dedicate only a few hours a week to
     writing and that is split up between several stories. So, you can
     imagine updates not being daily, or weekly for one single story.
     Sorry, not sorry folks. But, as I said, updates will still be
     happening so don't worry. Just be patient.
     Okay! Thank you all for the lovely comments and support. How very
     kind of you. I'll see you in the next one.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter Notes
     Chapter warning: Rape, hinted past rape talk, implied blowjob, abuse,
     soul mutilation, non-con, Gaster is fucked up.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“I think that's a fine idea,” Gaster said and Sans blinked.
Sans had spent three whole hours planning out how he was going to tell his
father what the council informed him. Sans couldn't for the life of him come up
with a solution that ended peacefully. He had after all basically informed the
council his father was going to give up the throne, an idea that Sans knew
would never happen. If Gaster was one thing it was stubborn. The only way he'd
give up the throne was when his body lay dusted on it.
But for once, Sans was surprised.
“You do?” He asked, unable to hide his complete and utter shock. Sans' walls
were torn down completely taken for a loop.
“I can't keep the throne forever,” Gaster scoffed, looking over the papers on
his desk.
You planned to.Sans wanted to argue but kept the thought hidden
“Yes, but I thought you would wish to rule over your new land. After the entire
war is over I would never imagine you would let it go like that,” Sans forced
out, struggling to find words and his mind attempting to understand what on
earth his father was thinking.
Where was the rage? The anger? The outburst of how Sans was betraying him? The
skeleton was truly baffled, unable to hide behind his usual mask. He has
expected every reaction but this! He expected Gaster to stand up and beat him,
rape him, destroy him. He readied himself for abuse and fear yet the fact that
he received none seemed to almost fill him with more fear than he could
imagine. Was Gaster so far gone he had become complete unpredictable? Had Sans
been wrong in his way this entire time? Did he truly not know his father? Did
Gaster have a plan he never knew about?
“No, I have been thinking of other plans,” Gaster muttered and Sans tensed but
suddenly found his place. So, he did have a plan. A plan. Sans could work with
that. He could get the plan and then work around it. There wasn't any confusion
then. He wouldn't be left out in the open with no lie to prepare or lie to save
his skin. Vulnerability was the only weakness Sans feared. Sans prepared for
any situation that could leave him vulnerable. He worked on his weaknesses
until they were his strengths, ensuring he would never be taken advantage of or
left without a word to utter. Sans inhaled deeply and nodded, folding his hands
in front of him as he recomposed himself.
“Such as?” He asked and Gaster paused. The king peered up at him before he
pushed away from his desk, setting his pen down. He stared at Sans as he leaned
back in his chair, eyes boring into his son's before he smiled.
“Come here,” he called, patting his lap. Sans swallowed but advanced forward.
He sat on Gaster's lap, willing away his disgust as Gaster began rubbing his
pelvis. “I have plans for us, my princess,” the king admitted, leaning forward
to kiss Sans' cheek. Sans leaned into it, curling his fingers in his father's
clothes.
“What plans?” Sans asked, barely able to contain his desperation. Though, a
part of him felt like Gaster would enjoy hearing it. Sans needed the
information. Gaster was already becoming unpredictable and Sans could not allow
him to become uncontrollable as well. Sans was the definition of vulnerable
when it came to his father. His one saving grace were his lies that saved him
more times than he could count. Sans couldn't allow himself to be completely
defenseless. He had to have some control in this situation or he was done for.
He couldn't lie if he didn't know what to lie about. And if he were to tell
anyone the truth it would end with his dust found the next morning and a rumor
of a human assassin murdering him spread throughout the land.
“A future together,” Gaster purred, kissing along Sans' face and down his neck.
His one arm wrapped around his child's waist, thumb rubbing small circles into
his pelvis while the other traveled up his sternum and to the buttons of his
shirt. “I won't rule over the new land because I'll live in it with you.”
Gaster smiled, removing Sans' many layers. Sans only sat limp, a foreboding
numbness sinking into his bones. “Papyrus will rule and I will finally have
time for you.”
Sans' soul pounded in his chest, tears wanting to form and spill. He felt
Gaster's hands slip under his shirt, gently running down his ribs before
running back up. Sans leaned into it, his shirt sliding down his arms as he
shivered and looked at his father with wide pupils.
“S-Surely you have more planned than that?” Sans said lightheartedly. He let
out a quivering breath as the king stroked a few of his ribs before moving down
to his femurs. “I will be so boring compared to the busy life you have now.”
Sans' breath caught in his throat as Gaster curled his hand around his pubis.
He forced out a whimper, willing the magic to form underneath the touch. Gaster
chuckled, kissing his clavicle.
“Nonsense.” Gaster smiled, rolling his hips so Sans could feel the bulge in his
pants. He smirked down at his son, grabbing his hand and running it over the
outline of his shaft. Sans swallowed, understanding what he was to do. “Who
could ever get tired of this?” Gaster grinned as Sans palmed the front of his
pants, stroking the cock that lied beneath them. “I want to give you a
wonderful life, my princess. One without all this boring work and tedious jobs.
A chance for you to live.” Sans straddled his father's lap and began grinding
his hips forward, fingers working on the buttons of the pants. He hoped
focusing on his father would prevent him from having to force words out.
“Do you not want that?” Gaster snarled, grabbing San's hand to still them. Sans
trembled, terrified of the deranged monster. He had been wrong to assume. He
should have known better. Gaster always wanted to hear reassurance.
“I want it,” he immediately said pressing his chest against Gasters. He hovered
inches away, breath hot against his father's face. “It sounds so wonderful, so
incredible. I only fear I'll bore you. You spoil me too much. Surely you enjoy
me now but we love each other in secret, Father. To be with you every day,
though is a dream come true, I fear you'll grow tired of me.” Sans lied, face
morphing into a sorrowful expression to earn him pity with his father.
“Princess,” Gaster called softly. He lifted Sans' head and kissed him. Sans
pressed into it, forcing out a small moan. The king pulled away, a smirk
stretched across his face. “Never,” Gaster murmured pulling out his cock and
stroking it. Sans swallowed thickly, eyeing it and forcing the thoughts of
disgust out of his mind. “I cannot wait. I get to have you whenever I want. I
can please you like this all day. Have you scream like you do at night but
without that pillow in your mouth.” Sans shivered, swallowing down his gag.
Sans removed his pants and Gaster groaned, rutting against his exposed sex.
“That sounds so wonderful, Father,” Sans forced out, throat tight. Gaster
cooed, running a hand down his face.
“So emotional just at the thought,” Gaster said woefully. “It's alright, my
doll. We'll have our life together. No one will take you away. No one wants
you,” Gaster whispered to him and Sans shut his eyes, nodding.
“Only you can have me.”
“Only I can please you,” Gaster panted, lining himself up. “Only I can fuck
you. No one will want you. You're a slut, a whore, a spoiled, forgotten
princess. You're no better than the prostitutes on the streets,” Gaster
snarled, fingers curling painfully against Sans' pelvis. “No one will love you
but me. Once you are marked everyone knows it. Who would want a whore of a
princess?”
“No one,” Sans whimpered.
“No one but me. And do you now why?” Gaster asked gently. “Tell me, princess,
who owns you?” Gaster asked and Sans forced his eyes open, locking gazes with
is fathers.
“You, my king.”
“Who will be the only one who loves you?”
“You, my king.”
“Who do you belong to?”
“You, Father,” Sans whispered, tears spilling as Gaster forced his way inside
his dry cunt.
Sans always left himself when Gaster entered him. He'd leave his body, losing
himself in memories of the past as Gaster fucked him. He couldn't focus on it,
not without breaking down. Though, sometime Gaster liked that. He loved
watching Sans scream, beg, cry out and pleading with him to stop. He loved
watching Sans grow nauseous and vomit, feeling his father violate him and fill
him to the point where he was leaking for hours. There was little Sans did that
didn't please his father someway. He learned that quickly. All he had to do was
adjust to what his father wanted that particular moment. Did he want to
dominate him? Break him? Was he his father? His king? His ruler? It took but a
second for Sans to switched, his mind fading as his many characters came to
life and taking control of his body. He'd sink into the numbing black void of
his mind as a characters used his body.
Most times, Sans thought of his mother. He knew she must have done the same
thing. Just lay there and accept it. The only difference was Sans forced
himself to react. He knew his mother wouldn't. She wouldn't give Gaster the
satisfaction. She was strong, brave, a true queen and ruler. Even as her
husband violated her she refused to even give him the satisfaction of it
breaking her.
But Sans wasn't and would never be close to his mother. If Sans didn't react,
Gaster would get a reaction himself. He'd beat him, hurt him, scream at him,
fuck him till he bled. Scared and hurt, Sans forced himself to react. He'd
moan, whimper, clench around the invading cock, kiss back, and accepted his
father's slimy tongue. He was afraid and scared of the abuse that came with
defiling his father. He hated it. He hated every second but he couldn't do
anything about it. He was weak, pathetic, alone.
He had no one. No one loved him. All he had was Gaster. He belonged to Gaster.
And no one would love him if they knew that.
“So beautiful, my princess.” Gaster panted, hips slamming into Sans, causing
the desk to creak and rock with each thrust. Sans threw his head back, forcing
out a moan as he gripped the desk tightly.
“My king,” Sans sobbed, turning his head away as tears continued to spill.
Gaster grabbed his skull and licked the tear trail.
“You are so much better than her.” Gaster grinned, grabbing Sans' hips and
forcing them to meet his brutal thrusts. Sans shouted, pussy bleeding from the
abuse. The blood eased the friction, though, a poor solution. Gaster didn't
seem to notice. He continued to hammer away, focusing only on his pleasure
before he clamped his teeth around Sans' clavicle and came. Sans jaw fell open
in a silent shriek at the bite. He could feel the blood and marrow already
seeping out. Sans forced himself to clench around his king, mimicking an
orgasm. Gaster growled, pumping himself until every drop was spent. Sans
trembled on the desk, waiting for his father to release him.
Gaster soon finished and fell back into the chair panting heavily. Sans laid on
the desk, unable to move. He stared at the ceiling, panting as he slowly came
back. His legs lay limp, twitching when he felt fluids drip out of his abused
sex. He focused on his breathing, repressing all other thoughts for his own
sanity.
“So pretty,” Gaster purred leaning forward to drag two fingers over Sans'
leaking cunt. Sans whimpered, wanting to back away. Gaster pulled his hand
away, though, showing off the mixture of blood and cum. Sans was always
thankful for his red colored magic. Sans shivered as Gaster displayed the red
and purple mixture. The king grinned, before placing his fingers to Sans'
mouth.
“Lick them clean.” He ordered. Sans shut his eyes and opened his mouth. He
resisted the gag as Gaster shoved his fingers inside harshly. He worked his
tongue around them, collected the disgusting fluids and swallowing them down.
Gaster chuckled darkly and lifted Sans up before he set him on the floor before
his chair. Sitting down, Gaster smirked as his hand lazily stroking his stained
dick.
“Now this.”
Sans wasn't very hungry when dinner came. He couldn't sit in his chair
comfortably. His magic refused to vanished when injured, needed to heal before
he could will away his aching sex. Fortunately, Papyrus was too busy glaring at
the king to notice. Sans was only grateful he did not make an outburst. Gaster
left first, having work to do. Sans wasn't sure if the king would be able to
visit that night but he wouldn't allow his hopes to get too high. Sans left
next and Papyrus followed after him wordlessly. Sans knew he wanted a word so
he led his brother to his room.
“A war?” Papyrus cried and Sans sighed, sliding off his jacket. Rumors spread
faster than he thought. Granted they'd all be incorrect and small, Papyrus
still would no doubt hear them all.
“Yes,” Sans mumbled allowing his exhaustion to show.
“We will lose our kingdom going up against them!” Papyrus shouted and Sans
tossed his jacket over the chair he passed.
“Don't make me order Undyne to go over this again, brother,” Sans warned,
spotting the nightgown on his bed. “And you know I can't discuss details with
you. Not with this.” Sans wanted to change and get into bed but could not
undress with Papyrus in the room.
“Liar,” Papyrus grumbled.
“No, I only inform you of what you already know. And you ought to know that
should this plan fail, you will be king,” Sans said, facing his brother.
Papyrus crossed his arms, frowning down at his sibling who stood calmly across
the room. “Either way, you end up a king. Either way, you succeed that's all
that matters. I've done my job to both you and the king. Whatever the outcome
be, satisfaction is guaranteed.”
“What if we lose the war while fighting? How am I suppose to pacify that?”
Papyrus snapped.
“With enough monsters, we won't. The odds are on our side.”
“What if we do not have enough monsters?”
“Then we do not go to war, the king is removed, and you take over.”
“And Father agreed to those terms?”
“Yes, although his agreement isn't needed. It's no secret the council is
furious with him, and his ranking among his troops and city are falling with
every mistake he makes. He has been in power for a long time, and the people
grow tired of that. Gaster will retire, he has no choice.” Sans went over to
his sibling staring up at him. “The future is certain on two things, Papyrus.
No matter what happens he is removed and you are king.”
“Why do I find it so hard to imagine him giving up the throne that easily?”
Papyrus said, hand resting on his brother's pelvis. Sans resisted the urge to
cringe and just forced a sly smile.
“I think you are just disappointed you won't see him upset,” Sans teased and
Papyrus tried to hide his smile.
“Hmm, it would be nice to see that smug look off his face for once,” Papyrus
admitted, pressing a kiss to his brother's forehead. “I swear, he is so
frustrating at times,” Papyrus groaned, resting his head on his brother's
shoulders. Sans chuckled, patting his back.
“You two are both stubborn.”
“I hate that we are similar in any way.”
“Hate all you will, that won't change your blood,” Sans said almost
whimsically. He pulled away from his brother, cupping his cheek as he smiled
softly. “But you two are far more different than you know.” He sighed and
Papyrus turned his head, kissing San's palm.
“Can you come to my room for the night?” He asked softly and Sans pulled away,
shaking his head.
“Not tonight, I am tired and need to rise early to help Father with letters.”
Papyrus rolled his eyes, scoffing.
“He can't even write a letter without you there?”
“You judge him too quickly. Have more faith in your king, brother. It's my job
to aid him and ensure all he does is correct to the best of my abilities,” Sans
explained yet again, his brother never happy with the answer.
“Anyone can read over those letters.”
“But it is my job,” Sans stressed. “Just as it is your job to trust your king.”
Papyrus scowled ready to argue back when the door opened.
Gaster entered, stopping mid-step when he spotted the scene. His eyes locked
onto Papyrus' and Sans tensed. He doubted anyone else saw it but Gaster's eyes
twitched, practically mistakable for a blink. His gaze shot over to Sans and
the monster tensed, feeling nothing but fury behind the neutral expression.
“Father, I was not expecting you,” Sans forced out. “Do you need my help with
the letters?”
“No,” the king replied quickly.
“Oh, then perhaps-”
“I need to speak with you.” Gaster's gaze shot to Papyrus, who had straightened
up, challenging his father. “Alone.”
“Shall we go to your office then?” Sans smiled, walking to the door but Gaster
stopped him.
“No, here.” Gaster stepped out of the doorway and gestured to it. “Leave, boy,”
He commanded and Papyrus' fists clenched by his side. Sans shot him a look,
practically pleading him not to speak.
“The castle walls are thin, Father. It would be wise to speak business in rooms
designed for it,” Papyrus sneered but Gaster was not phased by it.
“I suggest you bite your tongue, Papyrus,” Gaster warned. “Your actions have
consequences.” Sans shivered.
“I'm simply offering advice, Father,” Papyrus said nonchalantly.
“If I wanted the opinion of a fool, I'd ask your brother's.” Papyrus scowled,
facing his father with clenched fists.
“Sans is not-”
“Papyrus!” Sans called, voice calm and steady but loud. “Father ordered you to
leave, so leave. Do not disobey your father and king.” Gaster smirked as
Papyrus looked at his brother baffled.
“But he-”
“Perhaps the council was right,” Gaster said with fake sadness, “you are not
even close to being king. You can't even follow the orders of one. Where are
your manners?” Gaster's gaze dragged over to Sans who was paralyzed where he
stood. “Sans, why don't you change Papyrus' schedule this week? Ensure he get's
a re-education on manners. Schedule it with with a different teacher as well.
Clearly, you have failed to properly educate him.” Sans' head fell, gaze on the
floor as he flushed with embarrassment.
“Yes, your highness,” he mumbled and Papyrus was furious.
“It is not San's fault!” Papyrus shouted and Gaster's socket arched.
“He is your main tutor, no? True he has succeeded in most regards, but clearly,
he has failed in others. Perhaps you are spending too much time with him. In
fact, I think it would be best to have a little separation.” Papyrus tense, jaw
parting to speak but Gaster snapped his finger and his two guards entered.
“Please escort the prince to his room and assign two of my personal guards to
watch him. The prince and princess are to be kept away from each other for a
week. I'll have the council assign a new tutor.” Gaster turned his back to the
guards as they advanced forward. Papyrus looked ready to attack. The moment the
guards grabbed his arms he shoved them off, glaring at his Father with a look
of pure hatred. Without a word he stormed off, the guards followed and shut the
door.
The room was silent. Sans' eyes were glued to the floor, unable to raise his
head. He did not know what to say or do. He knew Gaster's head was filled with
delusions, most true but unknown to him. Anything he could say would be held
against him. Any action he did would only earn him one of Gaster's own. He was
trapped, guilty of truly nothing but that didn't matter to his father.
“Sans,” Gaster called. Sans flinched, his father's frame casting a shadow over
the small skeleton. Sans didn't even hear him walk over. He began to tremble,
pupils shrunk to the size of a pin head. “Look up.”
Sans lifted his head automatically. Gaster's gaze cut through him, red pupils
blazing. Sans' felt tears form, bones rattling under the dominating aura.
“If I recall, Papyrus was infatuated with you as a child,” he started, voice
far too calm. “So much so, he said he wanted to marry you. He wanted you to be
his queen. I asked you if this childish dream of his had vanished, and you told
me it did. Tell me, Sans, is he still dreaming?”
Sans swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “No, your highness.”
“Does he visit you alone often?” Gaster asked.
“Not often, your highness. Only for a word.”
“A word. And was that all it was? A simple word?”
“Yes.”
“About what?” Gaster pressed. “What would he need to speak to you about at this
time of night, alone, in your bedroom? After all, the only thing you are unable
to speak about publicly are royal business' and if I do recall that information
only goes to the council and the king.” Gaster leaned down, practically curling
around his son. “And is Papyrus a king?”
“No,” Sans all but whispered.
“Do you want him to be?” Gaster muttered.
“Only when the council and you have commanded it, your highness.”
“So, Papyrus is not the king. You aren't allowed to speak of any confidential
information regarding him. So, tell me what were you talking about in such a
remote and intimate location?”
Sans didn't dare hesitate for a second. He forced out the first word on his
tongue.
“His schedule,” Sans blurted.
“His schedule?” Gaster asked.
“I-I made changes, as the council requested. He needed more classes and studies
for the title of king. He was unaware of the change.”
“And you needed to speak of that here?” Gaster wondered and Sans knew he wasn't
buying the lie.
“I was on my way here after dinner. Papyrus came up behind me when he found
out. I took him in here to discuss it.” 
“Why?”
“Because his schedule change and preparation are still confidential though not
fully to him. Papyrus is allowed to know he is being prepared for the throne
though that information could cause a stir if heard by the wrong monster. With
the mixed feelings all around, the thought of Papyrus becoming king could spark
civilian issues and issues with the guard who, as of the moment, are more in
his favor than yours. I simply took him in here to prevent whispers, that is
all. As you came in he was leaving.”
Gaster stared silently for a solid minute. Sans couldn't breathe, unable to
look away or blink. The king then smiled, leaning back and stepping away from
Sans.
“Oh, so, I see,” He said and Sans nearly collapsed. He bought it.
“Yes, it is just a misunderstanding, Father. I'm sorry it caused so much
distress. I'm sorry for Papyrus' outburst as well. Perhaps you are right. A new
tutor and time apart will show much progress with him. I cannot dedicate as
much time to him as I once could,” Sans said lightly, a smile on his face.
“My princess,” Gaster said suddenly and Sans forced the smile to remain. “Close
your eyes for me.” Knowing better than to question, Sans shut his eyes. He
heard Gaster's clothes shuffle before he stepped forward. A hand trailed along
his jaw and Sans resisted the urge to flinch. Gaster had removed his gloves,
his bare bony hands delicately curving around Sans' smooth jaw. “Open your
mouth for me.” Hesitantly he did, tongue already formed.
Sans did not expect the leather gloves that were shoved into his mouth. His
eyes snapped open, pupils shrinking in fear as Gaster grabbed his neck with one
hand while the other covered his mouth preventing him from spitting out the
glove gag. Gaster glared at him, his black sockets nearly swallowing his red
pupils.
“You're a horrible liar,” Gaster hissed and Sans tensed, shaking his head. “I
know what he was doing here. You thought you could get away with it, didn't
you? You thought I'd be busy with those war letters all night that I wouldn't
come visit my little whore? Is that right, Princess?” Gaster accused, ripping
Sans' shirt off of him, buttons bouncing off the floor as they fell
Sans shook his head, tears forming, his hands curling around his neck where
Gaster still held him.
“And you were going to fuck him. Because he wants you. I know he does. He
always wanted you.” Gaster shook his head, a dark laughter escaping him. He
grabbed Sans' jaw and yanked his head up, forcing their eye to lock. “But he
won't have you. Because you are mind.” He all but snarled.
Sans whimpered as Gaster tore off his clothes. Buttons fell and threads snapped
at his rough treatment but Sans dared not to so much as wince. He bit the
gloves in his mouth, knowing they'd offer more comfort for the pain to come.
The king's eyes raked over his son's trembling form. He chuckled and grabbed
Sans roughly towering over his son's meek form.
“I don't think Papyrus is the only one who could use a little re-education.”
Gaster grinned, his free hand curling around one of Sans' phantom ribs. Without
warning, he yanked it down, snapping it. Sans screamed, the gag muffling it
significantly.
“In fact, my princess, I think you need more than just a reminder.” Gaster
grabbed another rib and yanked it upward's this time, still earning a
satisfying crack. “I think it's time I really show you who you belong to,”
Gaster said not a drop of remorse or fake pity even found. “For you have
forgotten. You are weak and easily won over. You'll spread your whore legs for
anyone but you need to remember who owns you. You need to never forget and I'll
make sure you don't.”
Sans tense when he felt the king's hand go under his ribs. He jolted, screaming
and begging behind the gloves as Gaster reached for his soul. Gaster tightened
the grip on his neck, shaking Sans to stop his squirming. Despite Sans'
pathetic attempts to stop, his father achieved his goal, roughly grabbing the
soul and removing it from it's home. Sans quivered, legs weak below him. He
could feel Gaster's energy and magic and Sans knew Gaster could feel even more
from Sans.
Souls were special, sensitive, and everything to a monster. Just from holding
it Sans knew Gaster could feel everything the skeleton was feeling. His terror,
sadness, pain, all pulsated through his soul and the king loved it. Gaster
almost never touched his soul. It was sensitive, fragile, and almost too
intimate even for him. But at times, it was the ultimate form of punishment.
“I wanted the next time to be special, my princess,” Gaster said, stroking the
soul just a little too harshly. Sans cried, his entire body feeling like it was
being squeezed and compressed. Sans could almost feel the finger drag over his
entire body and flinched violently. “I don't like hurting you this way. But
it's the only way you listen. I wanted to make you feel so good the last next
time I touched this, I promised that remember?” Gaster asked not expecting an
answer. “But I also remember what happened last time, don't you? You were so
little, I don't know if you recalled.” Gaster clenched his hand around the soul
and Sans threw his head back, screeching as his hands clawed at the hands on
his neck. “Remember the last time you disobeyed me?
Sans whimpered, the memory still fresh and painful. He had been such an idiot,
so young. He tried to say no, to act as if his opinion mattered. Desperate to
get away he flailed around, kicking his father in the face and he screamed as
loudly as he could. Gaster was enraged. He had been rough with Sans before,
never anything like that. He snapped his fibula and broke several ribs as he
screamed at him. Even as Sans lay trembling and crying Gaster grabbed his soul
and mutilated it. He pressed Sans' face down into the pillow, fingers kneading
and molding the soul without a care and Sans to this day could not recall a
punishment that painful. It broke him. It completely broke him but Gaster was
happy because Sans had learned his lesson.
“You never disobeyed me against after that. In fact, you never fought or said
no ever again. So, we're going to do it again.” Gaster said, barely able to
contain his twisted smile and joy. “But this time it's a new lesson. This time
you won't forget who owns you. You will not ever lie to me. So next time you
think about your brother what will you feel?”
Gaster pressed his thumb down, and Sans threw his head back and screeched. His
legs kicked out, soul pulsating as magic sparked out trying to form but in far
too much pain to conjugate anything solid. His vision blackened as his spine
arched, ribs heaving with his sobs and screams.
“Pain,” Gaster answered, lifting his thumb. “And next time you want to lie to
me?” Sans' bones rattled, sobbing into the gag, his pleas muffled. Tears
streamed down his face as he shook his head. Gaster squeezed the soul in his
hand and Sans jerked, unable to control his limbs that flailed and
clawed, desperate to get away from the pain. “You're a liar, Sans. But you
can't lie to me. Your mother tried to, and look where she ended up. But you
aren't like her. You won't end up like her. You learn, sweet doll. You'll learn
your lesson and we can go back to feeling so wonderful. Go back to loving one
another because I don't enjoy hurting you like this. But I have to when you lie
to me. So I have to hurt you.” Gaster said with fake sadness raising the soul
up for Sans to see the bruises on it. “I will hurt you if you lie to me. Do you
understand that?”
Sans nodded desperately but Gaster just smiled.
“Do you love your brother, Sans? Do you want him to be king? Do you want him to
please you? Does he want to please you? Make you his queen? Love you like a
lover?” Gaster asked and Sans shook his head, pupils wide and faded as tears
streamed down his face and his bones rattled with the sobs that escaped him.
His body ached as drool, snot, and tears leaked from his face. His soul
pulsated weakly, and Sans could hardly focus on anything but the throb it let
out his entire body radiating the pain. He continued to shake his head, trying
to lean into his father's touch, desperate to please him or get him to stop
anyway he could.
Gaster just sighed, raising Sans off the ground and to his height.
“You're lying again,” the king declared and Sans bawled, shaking his head
frantically. “It's okay,” He cooed, raising the soul to his mouth where he
kissed it. Sans could feel his soul quiver as his father dragged his canines
against it. His grin stretched wider across his face as he leaned close and
peered down at his son. “You'll never lie to me again.”
 
Chapter End Notes
     I'm actually impressed by how much faster this story is going than
     anticipated. It's super easy for me, heh.
     Cheers for the kudos, comments, and more :)!
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Rape, mentions of past soul abuse, kinda soul conditioning?,
     psychological abuse?, violence, bruises and physical damage.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
There were periods around every three or four months where Sans fell ill. It
was assumed and accepted that Sans inherited the same sickly behavior his
mother suffered from. No one ever questioned it despite Sans never being a
sickly child and the behavior only occurring once assigned as Gaster's advisor.
After all, the past queen was fickle with her illness and Sans never denied the
claims when others were informed he was unwell. Not that he could since he was
never seen. No one but the maids, the king, and a personally hired doctor were
allowed to see Sans during his sick days. Gaster would tell Papyrus and those
who needed him that he was too sick to be bothered or that the doctor ordered
no one to visit in fear or worsening the illness. Gaster had a wonderful cover,
after all, his late wife preferring solitude during her moments of illness. The
staff was unsuspecting to the request, all minus Papyrus who was always beyond
himself when Sans was ill. But when the king set guards outside to ensure no
one entered, no one dared try to see the princess. Although Papyrus would
fight, even if the illness was weak the separation Gaster enforced kept him
away.
During these sick days, Sans spend the first day lying in bed covered in sweat,
blood, marrow, and cum. His sheets were bathed in it as well, dried and hard
but he couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel anything over the horrific
throbbing his entire body had. Each pulse of his soul felt as if his body was
being constricted. Waves of pain washed over him in an endless agony he knew
was just the beginning. His ribs quivered with his wheezing breaths hitching
whenever a broken rib wiggled. Sans' pupils were gone, unable to escape the
pain even in his thoughts. It lingered, only bringing out past memories Sans
repressed and only continued to. Sans would lay in his bed, often in the
position Gaster last left him, unable to even attempt to process and deal with
the events that happened. Even the slightest twitch could cause an ache or a
mental collapse.
The first ones to find him where the maids. They'd carry his broken body to the
bath where they'd wash him of his filth and return him to his now clean bed.
Then, the doctor came to repair any injuries that would cause permanent damage
or issues later in his life. Sans would never respond or talk to any of them,
staring ahead knowing that they knew he was but a doll. Gaster's possession.
There was no need to pretend to be anything else. The last one to visit would
be Gaster. He would come with meals or just by himself. He'd care for Sans,
smiling warmly and gaze hungrily as he took in his work. He's trace along the
bites, bruises, cuts, and fractures, and Sans could feel the buzz of his magic
against each of them. The king would comfort Sans and feed him lies Sans
already knew and accepted long ago.
Sans would lay, numb and broken and the king adored it. In those moments Sans
was truly his little doll. No emotion, no voice, just a body, his body, to toy
and play with as he wished. Gaster was being more gentle than usual and Sans
wondered if the doctor had told him something. Sans had caught a look at
himself in the mirror and truthfully, he had appeared worse in his eyes.
Though, he did not have the courage to look at his soul. Sans wondered if he
had become desensitized to the damage of his own body. There had been a few
incidents where Sans tripped or injured himself accidentally and could
practically not feel the damage at all despite others fussing and claiming the
issue was severe. A scrapped bone was nothing compared to what he endured.
Despite Gaster's orders to keep the two royal siblings away, Papyrus was
outside Sans' door almost every chance he got. He'd mostly argue with the
guards, demand entrance, threaten them, and occasionally call out to Sans. Sans
would not answer or even acknowledge it. Alone, he'd flinch away from his
brother's voice, curling up on his bed as he trembled and cried silently into
his pillow. His soul would pulse, beating rapidly in his chest as his fear and
panic rose. The rapid beating would only amplify the pain, often resulting in
Sans having to bite into his pillow to prevent himself from screaming.
Around Gaster, he remained uninterested and distant displayed the emotions the
king wanted to see. Gaster wanted Sans to be disinterested in his brother, so
he would be. The king wanted his two children to be brothers and nothing more
and that what Sans would ensure. Siblings. Related only by family. Their
relationship one of brother's and nothing more. No secret feelings. No hate.
Sans was there to watch Papyrus from a distance and ensure he was fit to be
king. Not a step closer. For the true king stood behind him, hand on his
shoulder waiting for Sans to act.
“What if I let him in?” Gaster teased, stroking Sans' skull. Now on day four,
Sans was becoming numb to the pain as he always did. His soul was not something
he could ignore or pretend to not noticed however the added pains of his body
were. Now able to focus on something other than his aches, Sans rose to his
role as he always did. He waited for Gaster, morphing into his little princess.
He'd allow his fear to guide him, knowing it was what Gaster wanted to see.
After all, Sans had been punished. He needed to show that the punishment had
taught him a lesson.
“He entered right now,” Gaster mumbled, trailing his fingers up Sans' bare
body. Sans pressed against the king, socket's hooded as his fingers curled in
the king's elegant robes. “And he saw you like this? Maybe that would shut him
up.”
“He would not understand, your highness,” Sans replied in a weak and hoarse
voice. His voice was all but gone from his night of screaming and had yet to
fully recover. However, he did little talking now, only forcing out moans or
whimpers as Gaster preferred. “It would only cause unneeded fights. Please do
not. I'd hate to see you upset.” Sans whimpered, wrapping his arms around
Gaster's neck, burrowing into his neck as Sans' rolled his pelvis forward,
stimulating the king's sleeping magic. Gaster hushed him, petting his back
softly as he pressed a kiss to his skull.
“I won't, my doll. Do not fear. As long as he behaves that is.” Sans shivered
when he felt his father's hand on his illiac, the king's thumb tracing over the
crest before cupping it area with his hand. Sans swallowed thickly, forcing out
a shaky but hot press against Gaster's neck earning a soft hum from the
monster.
“Be quiet, my doll,” Gaster warned, pressing their hips together and Sans could
feel the now formed and hard magic. “I won't invite him in, but I can't help it
if he hears you scream.”
The week went by faster than Sans realized. Perhaps it was because Gaster
visited him less at night the final few days. Or maybe because Sans busied
himself with so much work he couldn't focus on the date. He still ached and was
far from well, but after four days of wallowing, Sans couldn't stand a moment
more. The work helped keep him distracted, during that day at least. Alone at
night, Sans stared out the window, his soul throbbing and tears in his eyes.
It hurt. It would hurt for a while. It had taken three months for the abuse on
his soul to disappear last time. This time had been so much worse. His soul
rested behind his ribs barely recognizable. It glowed dimly, nearly black with
bruises. It left his entire body feeling sensitive. So much so even a simple
nudge could be enough to spark a yelp. If the bruises were not enough Gaster
had done much worse. Puncture wounds were on his soul, curiosity of Gaster's
teeth. His boney nails scratched it, leaving claw marks on their path. The
damage looked so bad Sans wondered how he was even still alive. He had never
even heard of a soul being that damaged yet there he stood, broke but alive.
He wished he was anything but.
“Join us for breakfast tomorrow,” Gaster ordered before he left his room on the
seventh night. Sans could not deny his king because of his pain. If anything
Sans used it to his advantage, screaming into the pillow as he forced his hips
to rut and buck against his father, masking his pain with pleasure. Gaster
bought it or at least appeared not to care. Sans expected the worst after his
soul was damaged but could have laughed at how mild the abuse was compared to
the trauma of before. A part of Sans even wanted to thank Gaster. Sans now knew
what true agony was and compared to the mutilation of his soul, the nightly
visits were but a light slap on the wrists. He'd take a brutal rape if it meant
his soul would be spared. It would certainly make the rest of his life more
bearable.
The thought made him laugh, fresh tears cascading down his face.
The following morning Sans sat at the table with his brother and father, eyes
glued to the breakfast he had been ignoring for over a week. Papyrus stood up
when he first saw his brother, ready to run over and hug him but Sans refused
to even look at him. He couldn't. He hated to admit it, but he was afraid.
Being in the same room made his fear and anxiety spike. With how unstable the
king was Sans feared even a glance would spark another torment session and Sans
could not endure a third. He kept his trembling hand under the table and pupils
on his plate, too fearful to even give his father the smallest hint of an idea.
It hurt too much.
Sans excused himself from breakfast, unable to finish more than half a slice of
bread. For once, Papyrus did not follow after him and he was all too grateful.
Gaster was pleased with how it went. So pleased he rewarded Sans, laying him on
his desk and devouring his pussy for a midday snack. Sans told him the lies he
wanted to hear and reacted the way he wanted. He arched his back, held his head
against him, panted and moaned. He even forced himself to cum, a trick he
learned after Gaster found out what a real orgasm was for Sans.
That had not been a pleasant night.
 Sans shivered, hugging himself as he swiftly walked down the hall. He needed
to fetch some documents regarding human attacks on monster land from the
archives. Gaster was almost finished writing all the letters needed for the
war. The council had yet to give their list of brides for Papyrus but Sans was
grateful it was taking so long. Sans felt at his limit.
Sans opened up the door to the archives and stopped when he spotted Papyrus
standing inside with Gerson and Undyne.
“I apologize,” he said quickly. “I was unaware of a meeting.” He turned to
leave but was stopped.
“We are just talking, brother,” Papyrus called out quickly.
“Yes, Undyne was just informing me of Papyrus' knowledge and tactics when it
comes to war. I must say he is quite knowledgeable,” Gerson said, stroking his
beard.
“Yes, he should be. I ensured he was always up to date and informed regarding
these types of matters,” Sans informed, unable to look at his brother who
stared at him obviously.
“Damn near visited every day,” Undyne joked, slapping Papyrus on the back.
“Ha, yes, he was a fan,” Sans said in light humor. “If you excuse me, I need to
retrieve some documents,” Sans announced with a slight bow. He avoided the
group and chose to walk around the archive walls to get to his destination.
“I'll help you,” Papyrus declared and Sans stopped.
“It would be rude to cut the conversation with the council member, brother,”
Sans quickly said, back to him.
“We were done anyways.” Undyne shrugged looking back at her old mentor. “Gerson
and I have business to discuss. I'll see you tomorrow, Papyrus,” Undyne said
and Papyrus bowed to Gerson and saluted to Undyne. Sans took the distraction to
briskly walk down the row of archives, hoping to lose his brother. Papyrus was
fast, faster than him at least.
“Is something the matter?” He asked steps behind his sibling.
“No, I am just busy and need to find these archives,” Sans lied, his soul
racing.
“No, I meant-Sans please, can you stop for a moment?”
“I need to locate these document, Papyrus. Father is waiting for me-” Sans
stilled when a hand grabbed his arm. He recoiled, pulling it away as he spun
around. He could barely contain the scream in his throat. He faced his sibling
who started at him with concern. “Do not grab me like that, it is rude.”
“Then stop running away and listen to me,” Papyrus said.
“I told you I am busy. I will talk with you later, but right now-”
“Did something happen?” Papyrus asked and Sans looked at him. He seemed tired,
dark circles under his eyes, jaw hard. “Did I do something?” Sans' shoulder's
slumped.
“What are you talking about?”
“We are forced apart for one week and when we are finally reunited you refuse
to even look at me. What happened?” Sans was quiet for a moment, staring at his
brother's sad expression.
Many answers raced through his mind but none he could say. Sans was torn
between lies and truths, a crossroad he found himself often at. The utter dread
and horror of what happened were fresh and strong. Sans wanted to run away from
Papyrus and go to Gaster and beg for some kind of forgiveness. Sans felt like
just being alone with his brother was a punishable offense and one he feared to
commit. Yet despite that, Sans' ending and undying love for his sibling was
strong. Sans wondered if it could even be broken. He wondered if his mother did
not love him at one point. If there was a moment of utter fear to hatred for
her children as Gaster tried to slip into her mind.
No, she wasn't weak. She would not question herself like Sans. She would not
listen to the words Gaster spoke to her. She would not be swayed by abuse and
torture. She was far more of a monster than Sans.
Sans stood weak, broken, and pathetic. Torn between two sides, fear, and love.
He wanted to tell his brother about his brides. He wanted to say they needed to
stop this affair. He wanted to say he never loved him. He wanted to hurt him to
keep him away. He wanted to tell him he loved him. He wanted to tell him so
much but between his fear and guilt, he could do nothing for either.
Perhaps one day Gaster would break him. Perhaps one day Sans would crack.
Perhaps one day Sans would hate his sibling. But that day was not today. He had
failed his mother time and time again. Sans cherished his job above all else.
He knew his place and would never leave it. What they shared was but a small
sin, one that would vanish as if it never existed. Sans had become the fearful,
weak, and obedient servants she detested so much. But, if only for these few
months left, Sans could fulfill one promise to his mother. To take care of his
brother, until he became king.
“You are as needy as ever,” Sans joked and it made Papyrus smile. He stepped
forward and raised Sans' head and kissed him. Sans leaned into it, his fear and
burdens forgotten as he melted into the glorious ease and safety of his
brother. It was, however, short-lived. His soul pulsated, radiating fear and
agony once more. Sans pulled away from the kiss and turned away.
“This is hardly the place,” he muttered to cover up his actions.
“It'll hardly matter. Everyone will find out eventually when I am king after
all. I can't keep my queen a secret,” He said with a smile Sans couldn't
return.
The rejection was on the tip of his unformed tongue. The harsh words and brutal
truth ready to spew out if need be but they couldn't. Sans couldn't hurt his
brother that way.
“What's wrong?” Papyrus suddenly asked, cupping Sans' face but Sans rejected
the touch. “You were ill for a while. Are you still unwell?”
“I'm fine. Just tired.”
“You are pale,” Papyrus fussed and Sans shook his head.
“I am bone Papyrus. I am white. Of course I am pale.”
“No, not your complexion, your aura. It's dim.” Papyrus' frowned grew deeper
and Sans looked up at him with a puzzled expression. “Is your soul alright?”
Sans tensed at the mention. He brought a hand up to cover it suddenly afraid it
was exposed.
“It's fine.”
“Are you sure? Normally you-”
“I'm aware of my own soul brother. It is fine!” Sans snapped and Papyrus
silenced himself. The reaction was unjustified and Sans knew it was odd. Still,
he panicked, and could not think rationally. He could lie to cover it. Say he
was just tired, even still ill. That could cause a scene with Papyrus, though.
Sans needed an excuse that would allow him to leave and not disturb anyone
outside the room. But what would-
“I love you,” Papyrus said suddenly and it silenced Sans' mind.
They did not say those words often. Even if they did it was more of a statement
or phrase than a declaration of intimate love. A small token of affection at
best. That, however, was not a small token or reassuring phrase. It was a bold
and heavy sentence. One that meant the words within it.
Papyrus lowered his gaze, taking Sans' hand into his own. “I just worry about
you. You told me mother got sick often. She died because of it. I just get so
worried when you are ill. I couldn't imagine how hard her death must have been
for you. But imagining yours is something so frightening it gets the best of
me.” Papyrus stared sadly down at their hands. He brought them up to his mouth
and kissed Sans' hand gently.
“I'm sorry I pushed you. If you say you are alright, I trust you. Just, please
tell me if you are not. You have done so much for me and have always been by my
side. At least allow me to humor myself and pretend I am by yours,” Papyrus
muttered, smiling weakly at his brother.
Sans struggled to find words, his throat tight and tears threatening to spill.
He nodded, hardly even aware he failed to stop the tears from spilling. Papyrus
brushed them away and Sans shut his eyes leaning into the touch he denied
himself of.
He loved his brother. He missed his brother. He knew Papyrus felt just the same
if not more. Papyrus did not cower behind masks and lies. He did not sneak off
to other lovers behind Sans' back. Papyrus was faithful, loving, devoted, and
loyal. He was the perfect partner yet Sans was everything but. Dishonest,
broken, impure, a liar. Yet despite it, Papyrus claimed to still love him.
Would he love him if he knew? Would Papyrus act the same way and say the same
thing if he knew Sans was someone else's? If he knew Sans was already a whore
to the king, would he want him as his queen? 
He wouldn't. No one would. He wasn't a bride, he was a slut. Sans was claimed
by another.
But that did not mean he could not lie as he always did and pretend like he
wasn't.
“I missed you,” Sans said truthfully. He needed this. He needed this love, if
only for a moment.
“I missed you as well, Sans,” Papyrus replied, pulling him into a hug.
Their time together was temporary. Whether they wanted it to be or not, they
would be separated. Sans was Gaster's and would always be. Papyrus would be
married to a young new bride who will help their troubled kingdom. It was their
paths, their futures, their destiny. Their lives were planned out for them and
Sans knew better than to stray from them.
He wasn't like his mother. He did not plan to escape or run, perhaps because he
was too weak to. He did not lose himself in future dreams but lost himself in
forgotten past. His guilty pleasure wasn't a home away from the castle but by
his sibling's side, lover and brother. Sans knew only one would remain, but
that did not mean he had to cut it off so quickly.
Sans never wanted to leave their embrace. Papyrus offered the comfort and love
Sans hadn't felt since his mother was still with him. The unyielding admiration
and love that Sans wanted to feel forever. But just as he disappointed his
mother, he'd disappoint Papyrus as well. For even if he did not find out about
Gaster, Sans could not avoid the brides.
He pulled away, allowing Papyrus to help him locate his needed document before
they parted. It was short and mostly silent, but comfortable. Papyrus always
respected Sans and Sans appreciated it more than he could know.
Sans made his way back to his father's study forcing the thoughts of his
brother out of his mind. He needed to remember his place. He could not dare
afford to forget it.
“I have the documents. Sorry it took so long, I spotted council member Gerson
and we had a small chat,” Sans said and Gaster stood in the room holding a
piece of paper.
“Set them on my desk. Something came up and I need you to deal with it,” Gaster
announced, holding out the paper he was holding. Sans took it after he set down
the documents. He looked over the list with confusion. It was a list copied by
Gaster of names.
“What is this?” Sans wondered and the king held up a similar list but longer
and with a title.
“'The qualified brides for Papyrus,” Gaster said with a small smile. Sans'
sockets widened and he looked back over the paper. “You will pick out the two
most qualified in your opinion.” Sans swallowed, looked up from the paper.
“Usually it is the king who makes that call, Father. The council members have
also already listed the most qualified.”
“Yes, but I value your opinion, child. Plus, I already trimmed off a few brides
that I do not approve of. Consider these my choices,” Gaster noted with a
smile. “The council may know what is best for the kingdom but you know Papyrus
better than us all. He can be stubborn and I wouldn't want him to reject a wife
and embarrass our name. So pick one he'll like and also one that will help us,”
Gaster informed Sans, the smile never leaving his face.
The paper felt like lead in his hands.
“If you wish, your highness,” Sans said softly.
“Have a bride by tonight.”
“Yes, your highness.”
“Then tomorrow morning inform Papyrus of his bride choice.” Sans raised his
head, body tense.
“Me?”
“Why, yes you.” Gaster laughed. “I trust no one else to deliver the news but
you, Sans. I have no reason not to, right?” Sans felt his soul clench and
swallowed down a whimper.
“Of course, father.”
“You both know your places,” Gaster said happily, stepping closer to his son.
“I think that time apart helped you both.” Sans forced a smile, pushing out a
fake front of shyness and submission.
“Indeed, your highness. You are right as always,” Sans said, stepping forward
and reaching out for the king who smirked and pulled away.
“I believe it's done wonders.” Gaster chuckled. “Never before were you so
eager. But sadly, my princess, there is work to do.” Sans' smile fell. “Oh,
don't look so sad, my doll.” Gaster went over to his child and cupped his
cheek, raising his gaze. “We can continue this tonight.” He purred, licking a
stripe of Sans' neck before he pressed a kiss to his neck. Sans shuddered,
forcing out a moan to disguise it as an action of pleasure. Gaster pulled away,
smirk on his face as he turned away. “Now go.”
Chapter End Notes
     Golly! You guys are so wonderful! The support had been so
     overwhelming, thanks for that!
     Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes! See you in the next chapter.
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Emotional manipulation, hinted past rape and sexual themes,
     incest, Sans makes a hard choice, fear control, violence, past
     violence
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Surely you are joking,” Papyrus said lightly, laughing almost until he noticed
his brother did not join in on the joyous mood. “Sans, you are joking right?”
Sans watched his brother carefully, soul beating harshly in his ribs. He
clutched at the fabric of his pants as he inhaled deeply. He exhaled and folded
his hands, refusing to allow himself to crumble or sway in his brother's
presence. He had a job to do.
“These are the brides the council has picked out for you,” Sans repeated,
nodding to the list on the table. “I was asked to show them to you. The ones
most suited are at the top. I have looked them all over for you to ensure none
would be against your taste.”
“My taste?” Papyrus scoffed. “None of these brides are my taste. I do not want
these brides.” Papyrus shoved the list away, expression was torn between hurt
and confusion. “I told you, I will marry you!”
“I am a poor choice,” Sans said.
“You are the best choice!”
“No, they are.” Sans pointed to the list. “They will help this kingdom thrive
and bring you success, wealth, power, and a family. They are your choices for
marriage. I am not.” Papyrus sat up, sockets desperately searching for some lie
or joke on his brother's face. Sans remained serious. He couldn't afford so
much as a waver.
“I don't care! I will only marry you! I love you!”
“That doesn't matter Papyrus,” Sans stressed. “You need to do what is best for
your kingdom and I am not what is best. I am the worst choice.” Why did he have
to be so stubborn? So difficult?! Sans may have played along in their affair
for too long but Papyrus had to be aware that it would never happen.
“You are my only choice!” Papyrus cried, grabbing the list and crumpling it up.
Sans tensed as he did so, looking up at his brother allowing his annoyance to
be displayed as anger. “I will not marry anyone but you!” Papyrus announced,
crossing his arms. He was pouting like a spoiled child!
“Papyrus it is my duty to do what is best for this kingdom. It is my job to
prepare you and help you be the best king possible. I cannot and will not allow
you to marry me. It would violate both of my duties! I am not a choice for a
reason. If I was suitable in any manner you'd see my name on that list and you
do not. The council made this list and father has agreed on it. I agree on it!
Your superiors have been kind enough to give you a choice even. Several
choices! Do not be stubborn and foolish. Choose a bride!” Sans ordered but
Papyrus continued to pout. He stared Sans down, back against his chair.
“I choose you.” Sans bony digit dug into the chair.
“I am not your bride,” Sans replied through tightly clenched teeth.
“Do you not want to be? Did you lie?” Papyrus asked and Sans clenched his
fists. His voice got stuck in is throat, magic knotting inside of him. His soul
pulsed, pain and guilt coursing through him. Papyrus watched him and Sans knew
he was hurt. Sans had allowed this to go on too long and didn't try to stop it.
Now he came in and told Papyrus he needed to choose a bride with no warning or
notice. Papyrus wasn't tricked by lies or himself. Sans couldn't fool him with
his words and expect him to understand. Sans lied and believed his lies. It's
how he coped. It's how he lived. Sans knew too many lies and truths to tell
them apart. The constant battle within him was exhausting and to believe in a
better truth or lie was too crushing when they failed to come true. Sans
believe in what he knew to be certain. What Gaster told him and what the
council had planned. Their carefully planned futures, mapped out before they
were even born.
But, Papyrus didn't know their future like he did. Papyrus didn't understand
that there is never a choice. He didn't yet understand that he had no voice or
say. Sans should have prepared him for that. He should have focused less on
being his brother and more on his duty to his kingdom. Now he had failed them
both.
“Is that it?” Papyrus asked weakly. “Do you not love me?”
Papyrus didn't understand, but it was time he did. Sans may have babied him for
this long but perhaps a harsh blow would be enough for him to see the truth.
Sans realized his true destiny once his mother died. It hurt him. He still
ached just thinking of it, but because of it, he was better. He became the
monster his kingdom needed. And if Sans needed to tear himself away and do the
same to his brother he would. He had no choice. Not when he knew what awaited
him if he didn't.
Sans wouldn't be at the receiving end of this blow. He wouldn't suffer another
abuse because of his brother's mouth and stubbornness. He didn't want to rip
this off so harshly, but he had no choice. The fear of what Gaster would do if
he found out who Papyrus' true choice was filled Sans with utter dread and
shook him to his core. No, Sans needed to get Papyrus to understand his choice
and future. Sans needed to end this now. He couldn't sustain this relationship
any longer.
“Love does not matter!” Sans shouted, pushing away from the table. “Love will
not save our kingdom. Love will not aid our sick and help our people. Love
offers nothing to us and is a pointless emotion! It does nothing for you or
anyone!” Sans exclaimed, now on his feet. “But those brides do! You will marry
one of them, Papyrus. I am only here to inform you of that. It is not your
choice. You pick one, or the council will for you. I am here to tell you that
you have one choice and that is in the bride you pick from that list.” Sans
jabbed his finger at the paper, the wad crinkling under his digit. He glared
harshly at his brother who stared completely stone-faced. “Not anyone else.”
“You did not answer my question,” Papyrus stated, now rising to his feet. Sans
glowered up at him, not intimidated by his stature in the slightest. They
seemed to has swapped roles, Sans now the emotional one as Papyrus remained
calm. Perhaps it was best. Sans would never act so frivolously with his
composure before but maybe exposing his emotions would help Papyrus understand
the severity of the situation.
“Because your question is irrelevant. Is doesn't matter,” Sans replied
bitterly.
“Yes it does,” Papyrus argued.
“How?”
Papyrus grabbed Sans' arm, nearly erupting as he did so. “Because if you love
me then I will fight for that love!” Papyrus cried, tightening his hold on his
brother. “If you love me then that is all I need. You are my first love. My
only love. My future bride and queen and I refuse to give that up. I will not
marry those brides. I will decline the council. I am the only heir. I am the
future of this kingdom. If they want me on that throne, the only way I'll agree
is if you are by my side.” Sans looked away, struggling weakly to be released
and he was surprised Papyrus let him go.
“You say I have no choice. You say there is nothing I can do but there is. All
change started from one voice. One being who asked 'why', who said 'no'. I know
my power, Sans. I know what is discussed and secret. You think I am ignorant
but I'm not. The walls speak Sans, but you are not the only one who listens.
Who will replace me as heir, huh?”
Sans remained silent.
“No one has the population in their pocket but me. The people love me. The
guards respect me. Our castle admires me. Even if they have another pick they
will endure hell for choosing them over me. I'm not arrogant or naive. I'm
aware of my status, power, and how much they need me. Father becomes more
deranged every day! They need me in power after what he has done. No one trusts
him or the council. They will do anything to get me on that throne. And I will
take it, willingly, and honorable. I will be the perfect ruler this kingdom
needs. I will go down in history as the best ruler this world has ever known. I
shall lead armies and conquer countries. I shall be so beloved and successful
Asgore himself will award me and honor me and my glory. I will be all of that
and more only if you are by my side. That is not an extreme request. It is not
unreasonable. It will not ruin our kingdom. We will rule together. Creating the
greatest kingdom side by side. One created by love, our love. For you love me
and I love you. I'm I wrong to think this Sans? Am I wrong to trust your word
when you said you loved me?”
Papyrus watched Sans and the skeleton could not meet his gaze. He truly felt
moved by his brother speech. He was right, the council had no other pick. If
Papyrus were to somehow be unfit for the throne the council would be in a mad
scramble to find a suitable replacement. The request of a bride wouldn't even
be the most ludicrous of requests either. It would be fought and argued over,
but if it got Papyrus on the throne Sans saw the council agreeing in the end.
Unless Papyrus somehow lost his stubborn nature.
But the council wasn't what Sans feared. Sans knew the council was weak when it
came to his brother. Sans only used them as an excuse. For the council wasn't
the one who would stop Papyrus, but Gaster. Sans wasn't an option because the
king wouldn't allow Sans to be married. Sans believe their father would sooner
see him killed than to be given away. Gaster believed Papyrus wanted a bride,
but not him. Should he find out about the truth, the king would be enraged.
Gaster would ruin Sans. He'd tell Papyrus they were lovers. He'd go so far as
to ruin his reputation and name, making him appear as some ill fit advisor and
have him kept away only to be visited and seen by his eyes only. But no one
would argue, they never did. Papyrus was the only one but after finding out the
truth he'd be disgusted. He'd reject Sans, instead choosing a bride as he
always should have. Their relationship would be ruined and bond forever torn.
Should Gaster so much as hear a rumor about Papyrus' true choice Sans would be
more than ruined.
Fear is what drove him. Fear is what controlled him. Fear is what worked. Fear
had always worked on Sans. It was the only thing that proved to ever work. Love
didn't save his mother. Hope didn't stop his father. Prayers didn't change his
life. Fear kept his mouth shut. Terror kept his guild sharp. Punishment kept
his loyalty in check. The king didn't request Sans to kept Papyrus pick a
bride, he demanded it. This was a test. A test to ensure his obedience was to
his king. Sans needed to return with a name or at least a date. Sans couldn't
even fathom what awaited him if he didn't.
He needed to be hurtful. He needed to be painful. He needed to break his
brother and shatter this love. If he didn't Gaster would. And at least if Sans
said it he still had a chance to keep a brother in the end.
“I was wrong,” Sans said looking away from his brother. Silence hung is the air
as Papyrus waited for his brother to continue and Sans prepared himself. He had
to be hurtful. He had to be cruel. He had to do this. There was an order to
things. They both had strict paths to follow and Sans couldn't allow Papyrus to
stray any farther. Not if he wanted to see the end of it.
“I was wrong to allow you to believe in these delusions for as long as you
have. I shouldn't have let this affair go on. I should have stopped it. I
should have told you the truth but I could because I don't want to hurt you
like that. But Papyrus you cannot believe in this lie anymore. I will never be
your queen. I will never be your bride. We can never be wed.” Sans met his
brother's gaze, clenched fists trembling by his side. 
“Why,” Papyrus demanded, refusing to believe his brother.
“Because that is how it is supposed to be.”
“Says who?”
“Says logic, the future, your king, and the council.”
“All those can be damned. You still refuse to answer my question. Do you love
me?”
“I refuse to answer a pointless question,” Sans snapped, voice wavering.
“Until you do I will not give up.” Papyrus pressed, seeing Sans start to crack.
“Yes, you will!” Sans exclaimed. “You will when Father forces you too. You will
when the council threatens to find another heir. You will when everything and
everyone is taken away from you all because you refuse to let go of a fantasy.”
“You won't,” Papyrus said softly.
“I won't what?”
“Leave.” Sans swallowed. “I don't care about this castle, about our father,
about the council. If I have you that's all that matters.”
Sans tensed, fists shaking by his side.
Drive the nail in. Break this bond.
“My duty is to the king,” Sans said and Papyrus deflated. “I am sworn to him
first. It is my duty and I refuse to betray my kingdom like you brother. You
may think you are not being arrogant or naive, but all I see before me in a
spoiled child. One I made. I refused to say no to you and now I see how wrong I
was. But I will fix my mistakes. If you refuse to be king, I will find a new
one. There may be some objectification and complication, but I'm sure you are
well aware of what power the council and king have, brother. How will your
guards and people feel about their beloved prince being a traitor? A human
spy?” Papyrus went slack, sockets widening at his brother's words. Sans ignored
him, picking up the crumbled paper and fixing it.
“The kingdom come before all other. Father, friends, lovers, anyone. I know my
place and duty. Do you?” Sans set the list down on the table and face his
brother one last time. “You seem to focus so much on if I love you or not.
Well, let me ask you to test your love for me.” He tapped his finger against
the names. “If you claim to love me, brother, then make my life and my job
easier and pick a bride. Think of this as a final act of love. Spare us both
the pain and misery of picking sides.” Sans faced away from his brother,
walking to the door. He rested his hand on the knob, shutting his eyes as he
inhaled deeply. “Because in a test of love between you and the king, you will
never win.”
Sans trembled as he swiftly fled the room, unable to stop or look back without
completely crumbling under his guilt and depression.
He knew this day was coming. He knew everything was temporary. He knew that
Papyrus had never belonged to him and that anything they shared would ever be
more than a brother bond. He knew this. He reminded himself of this every day.
So he needed to stop!
This shouldn't hurt. This shouldn't be as painful as it was. He shouldn't feel
like crying but celebrating. Papyrus was finally becoming king. All of Sans'
hard work was starting to pay off. He had done his job, kept his promise to his
mother. Papyrus would be placed on the throne with a beautiful bride and rule
over a perfect kingdom. He'd be known as a glorious king and Sans will stand in
the shadows and swell with pride at his younger brother.
He should feel pride, not sorrow. He should feel angry at Papyrus' stubborn
behavior, not relief. His feelings were dangerous. They'd get him in trouble
with the king. If Papyrus were to tell anyone about his ideas Sans would be
dust. If Gaster didn't take care of him then the council would. Sans wasn't a
bride. He wasn't anything close to one. He offered nothing to the kingdom and
offered nothing in a time of war. If anything he'd only enrage them, being so
close to the king they will perhaps think Sans would poison Papyrus and lead
him astray just as he had with his father. They'd view Sans as some demon snake
hurting any king he worked for.
Sans roughly pushed open the door to his office and slammed the door shut. He
went over to his desk, trying to even his flustered breathing. He had to calm
down. Gaster may enter and wish to know what happened. He had to come up with a
plan, an excuse. A way to save himself.
Sans' soul pulsated weakly and he shivered.
“Oh dear,” a voice called sounding almost pleased. “Did the meeting not go
well.” Sans' head snapped up to find the king sitting at the small table and
chair set up in the far left. He looked comfortable, the smallest hint of a
smile on his features and he played with the fruit in the small bowl on the
table.
“Father,” Sans said, clearing his voice once it came out too weak. “I-”
“Did it go well? How did Papyrus take the news?” Gaster asked cutting his son
off and Sans inhaled sharply, feeling as if he had been stabbed.
Staring at his father Sans knew he needed to convince him with more than just
words. More than just sexual favors as well. The king stood before him ready to
either praise or abuse him at the answer Sans gave. This was a test. If Sans
said he failed there was more at stack than just a slap on the wrists.
Sans reflected back on his emotions, how he should act. Sans was loyal to
Gaster. Sans was Gaster's. Sans was the advisor. In these roles, he'd be
annoyed and outraged by Papyrus' childish and selfish actions. Gaster wanted
Sans to be anything but kind and caring for his brother. He wanted to see Sans
distant and cold even. Yes, it was his job to prepare him for the throne but it
was also his first job to be by the king's side. And Sans knew better than to
make Gaster a second priority.
“He's stubborn and childish, your highness,” Sans said bitterly, glaring down
at his desk. “He refuses the brides not wanting to get married. He believes he
should choose his own and not pick from a list. He thinks we are too 'old
fashioned'. That we need to modernize and allow choice! It's idiotic and
childish! He is either ignoring or completely disregarding the potential war or
our entire kingdoms needs. I thought I prepared him better. Apparently yet
again I have failed. Perhaps it's best to preeminently remove Papyrus' teaching
from my schedule. I have spoiled him. But I will not anymore. I offered no
alternative to the brides and I know he'll pick one by the end of the week
before the letters from the other kingdoms have returned. He's just stubborn,
perhaps a year too young for the throne still. He's unaware of the sacrifices
and challenges you must make for the greater good of the country. Arranged
marriages are for the best. He needs a good bride and will get one if his
choosing or not. Council member Muffet and several other will have a word with
him about it. They were right to fear he is too young and ill-prepared.”
“Perhaps I'll have a word with him.” The king offered sitting up in his chair.
Sans didn't dare hesitate at the response, dealing with his luck later.
“Do not waste your time, Father. He is stubborn and juvenile but he will see
the way I'm sure of it. With the guidance of another scholar, he will be
properly educated on the importance of this decision.” Sans said, pacing the
room.
“Sans, my dear princess.” Gaster smiled before he nodded to the free chair
across from him. Sans stopped his pacing and went over to it. He sat down and
Gaster poured him a glass of the wine the maid had most likely gotten for him.
“There is no need to get so flustered. We have time. I do believe you when you
tell me Papyrus will see the light. You have been so wonderful these past few
weeks. I have my utmost faith in you,” Gaster said gently. “A little private
time between us really helped you change and perhaps a chat with Papyrus will
change his mind as well.” Sans' fingers curled around his cup.
“Your highness?”
“It's as you said Sans, he is just uneducated on the matter. Arranged marriages
are always challenging. Even I was skeptical on my own. I did not fight it,
though. I knew better. He didn't have the firm upbringing I did. True you did
spoil him but he is still young and inexperienced. Papyrus just needs
reassurance and to be properly educated by someone with experience. He needs to
understand the purpose of his bride. Love is not needed.” Gaster chuckled.
“Love has nothing to do with marriage. How does one plan to rule a kingdom on
love? What does love do for your people? Your armies? Your land? It's about the
kingdom. Your mother offered me wonderful things. It helped strengthen our
armies and gave us farmlands in the south. It helped us thrive and in return,
our strength helped her family name live on and kept her kingdom safe from
invasion. It was a wonderful trade off.” Gaster said almost fondly, resting an
arm on the back of San's chair.
Sans resisted the urge to cringe.
“T-The stronger bonds as well,” Sans said, unable to ignore the nausea growing.
He loathed when Gaster spoke of his mother. As if he had the right to even
think of her after the horrid things he had done. But this wasn't about him or
their mother. He needed to focus.
“Hm? Oh yes, the allies as well. Her family was rather friendly weren't they?
Perhaps that's what led to their demise. Too many untrustworthy allies.” Sans
rested his hands on his lap, his fists clenched tightly.
“Yes, perhaps.” Lies. What lead to their demise was Gaster refusing to aid them
during an invasion. Once their mother died Gaster used her death as an excuse
to no longer help her family. He claimed they tricked him and gave him a sickly
bride and for it, he withdrew his army and watch as their kingdom burned before
he took control over the rubble left over. It was vile and despicable. Till
this day the land still riots and fights Gaster but he ignores them. In the
end, they received land and a larger kingdom. The allies had a hard time
disagreeing with Gaster due to his power at the time. Many meekly agreed Gaster
was in the right. The council debated the issue but it was dismissed by an
uneven vote, majority in favor of Gaster.
“But I suppose it was a fair trade even then. They gave me a useless bride.
Couldn't even give birth to more than two children. Useless. That will have to
take priority in Papyrus' bride in my opinion. Fertility. I will not allow him
a bride as useless as mine.” Gaster scoffed and Sans steadied his breathing.
“Of course,” Sans replied tightly.
“But you see this is why I must have a word with him. Few understand the
complexity. Even if some have had arranged marriages they are not as important
as a king's marriage. He'll grow to accept them, we always do. Again it's not
about love, it's about the offerings and children. Love comes separately.”
Gaster rested a hand over Sans' clenched fists. Sans' pupils shot up to his
father who stared at him with a dangerous expression. “We both know that don't
we, Sans? You would never have loved any prince I paired you with. Just as I
would never have loved your mother. We were meant for each other and only each
other. This is how it works as royalty. I have no doubt your mother fucked
endless men behind my back, the bitch. But it never mattered to me. I got what
I needed from her.” Gaster's hand felt like lead over Sans'. The princess knew
the king could feel his trembling and needed to excuse it quickly.
“I'm just upset at Papyrus,” Sans lied unable to hide his anger, but he could
lie and misdirect it. “He knows better. He always knew this day would come and
that a bride would be picked for him. I suppose I just feel hurt that he
doesn't trust me to pick a good one. True my duty is to you and I would have
only picked brides for this kingdom had I been the one to choose at all. But I
have always done my best to prepare him and ready him for the throne. I have
never done wrong in that matter. He had always received the best education,
training, everything. It is my duty to serve you but also to ensure he becomes
the best king possible. I would not suggest a bad bride just as I would not
offer you horrid advice. I'm just annoyed he doesn't see that. Perhaps you were
right when you said I spoiled him. I was too busy focusing on him becoming the
best king. I neglected my job to you and caused you trouble. I also failed to
see how my smothering had begun to do more harm than good.” Sans inhaled
shakily, swallowing down the vomit he wanted to expel. He needed to be
believable. Lie in ways he had never before. Gaster had heard all this before.
Sans was repetitive when it came to his brother and lying about him. It was
time he blamed someone else.
“Perhaps I was just enforcing behaviors mother had raised me with. I was
blinded by the past and unable to see the true nature of her ways. How
incorrect and toxic they were not only to Papyrus but to you. Perhaps that was
her plan all along and I was just too ignorant to see the truth. To see how
wicked she truly was.” Sans felt hot shame burn inside of him.
“She was a conniving traitor,” Gaster grumbled bitterly. “She tricked many,
including you. But we all see the truth one way or another. She refused to
allow me to come near you, to show you the truth. She had far too much time
with you. Plenty of time to fill your young mind with venomous lies.” The
king's voice was sour and cold but he quickly relaxed, taking Sans' hand into
his own.
“But just as you changed and saw the light, so will Papyrus. None of that past
matters, my dear,” Gaster cooed, kissing his hand. The king pulled Sans' chair
close to him and placed another kiss on his skull, arms wrapping around him.
“The past is dead. Only fools looks back. We are better now. You know better
now.” Gaster's thumb rubbed circles on Sans' humerus as he placed kisses along
his skull. “We'll both aid Papyrus on his journey. We both have the same end
goal. I want to see him succeed just as much as you. We are so often on
different sides but now, together, we can change his mind.”
Sans inhaled deeply, far from over his rage but knowing he needed to get rid of
it. He forced his body to relax, leaning into the kiss as he squeezed Gaster's
hand.
“Yes, he does look up to you. You two may often disagree but now knowing he is
in the wrong he may finally overcome that stubborn nature,” Sans replied,
leaning into Gaster's hold.
“Exactly, and even if he doesn't there are ways. Discipline always works. There
are many ways to punish him if he steps out of line or continues to act so
childishly. Punishment doesn't always have to be a bad thing. In fact, I find
it to be the best way to guarantee or acquire what I want or know is best.
Punishment worked on your mother, it worked on you, and it will work on
Papyrus. Sometimes we must punish those we love for the better, right? I never
enjoyed hurting you, princess. But, because I did you saw the truth and are
better because of it. Right?” Gaster stilled, waiting for a response.
“Yes, Father,” Sans replied submissively, turning his head to face his father.
Gaster smiled, releasing Sans' hand to take hold of his cheek instead.
“And Papyrus will as well. One way or another,” Gaster muttered before he
kissed his child. Sans exhaled shakily into the kiss and nodded and he pressed
into it deeply. Gaster chuckled as he pulled away and rose to his feet. Sans
looked up at him and Gaster finished off his glass of wine. “I'm going to
reschedule my lunch and Papyrus'. We'll have a nice chat and try to get this
situation finalized. In the meantime, I have a meeting with the council at
three you'll go to and I'll need you to handle my work at lunch.”
“Yes, your highness,” Sans agreed.
Gaster went to the door and paused for a moment. He glanced back at Sans who
still watched him closely.
“Cheer up, princess,” he said. “If all goes well, a reward is most certainly in
order.” Gaster smirked before he left and Sans shivered.
Sans rested his head against the table, trembling as his mask crumbled. God did
he loathe himself. How low could he stoop? He had no pride or honor. He has
allowed fear to consume it. He betrayed his mother, hurt his brother, and told
more lies than he thought possible. His life was so controlled by Gaster and
his punishments that Sans truly couldn't recall what fueled him before. What
drove him? Hope? Love? Passion? How did he accomplish anything? Perhaps that's
how he ended up in this situation in the first place. He was weak, hopeful, and
naive. The perfect target. Gaster never once eyed Papyrus. Papyrus was loud,
stubborn, and had pride. He seemed to shine brighter each day as Sans crept
further and further into the filthy shadows.
Was this his life now? Stuck by Gaster's side? Abandoning all those who opposed
him? Gaster truly was trying to isolate him. Get him alone, perhaps to prove a
point but Sans wasn't sure what. He had tried to isolate his mother but it only
made her cynical and spiteful. Sans wasn't even close to being so bold in his
feelings.
In fact, at the very thought of his mother, he deflated. How he disappointed
her...
After a long moment of wallowing, Sans decided to push all thoughts away. He
had work to do. He was happy that the letters for war were over with but so
much was still left to deal with. Their kingdom was far from perfect and it
seemed that with every day it fell farther and farther. Today the guards were
apparently starting to revolt and demand more pay. Sans groaned, knowing Gerson
was going to most definitely have a strong word about this and Muffet then
demand where this added pay was to come from. Money was always an issue and
with the war, it would only become more of a headache.
Sans was surprised however when Alphys, the messenger of the council and most
qualified to become Papyrus' advisor once king, delivered the message that the
council meeting had been rescheduled.
“What for?” Sans asked and Alphys just looked back at Sans.
“The meeting has been rescheduled for tomorrow at two. That is all.”
She scurried off and Sans was left standing and confused. There was never a
piece of information he didn't get. As the advisor, Gaster either told him
everything or ordered someone to inform Sans in his place. The few times Sans
was not allowed to know council information is if it was for the king only and
that information was the most crucial to Sans. That was the information that
Gaster reacted to, the information Sans needed to prepare for. Was there a war?
Had someone died? Sans became anxious.
He left his room to go walking, listening for any new gossip spreading around
but there was none. Not so much as a peep.
Sans felt very anxious.
Perhaps it was best to consult Gaster directly. He was most likely finished
with lunch with Papyrus and Sans could only ignore that outcome for so long. He
hoped his hurtful words struck a cord with Papyrus or at the very least, he
prayed Papyrus wasn't dumb enough to state his love for Sans in front of his
father. He never was in the past but the anxiety had Sans fearing the worst as
he made his way to Gaster's office. Sans knocked on the door and got no
response. Trying to knob he found it locked and Sans stood outside feeling
uncharacteristically lost. He felt out of the loop. Something was happening and
he didn't know about it. Something was wrong and he had no idea what.
It terrified him.
Sans yelped when a hand clamped down on the back of his neck. He jerked trying
to get away but the hand tightened around his neck and he stilled. Sans stood
frozen in place as he saw his father's hand enter his view and unlock the door.
“Get in,” He ordered before shoving Sans inside. The princess stumbled in,
almost tripping over his feet. He turned quickly to just barely catch two
guards stand outside the door before Gaster slammed it shut and locked it. Sans
watched as Gaster shook, radiating a rage Sans had never felt or saw before. He
cowered, backing away as his knees felt weak and pupils shrunk.
“Did it just slip your mind?” Gaster asked through tightly clenched teeth. “Did
it just get lost in that big empty head of yours?”
“S-S-Sir?” Sans whimpered and Gaster spun around, pupils glowing violently as
he glared down at Sans.
“Do not play dumb with me, child.” Gaster spat storming over to Sans and
grabbing his arm. Sans cried out weakly, unable to hide his genuine terror.
Gaster's fingers dug into his arm, feeling like daggers against his bone even
through the fabric. He loomed over Sans, engulfing him in his shadow. He just
reminded Sans of how powerless he was. How utterly hopeless he truly was. “When
were you going to tell me, hm? Before or after the betrayal?!” Gaster shouted
and Sans knees gave out, being only supported by Gaster's grip on him.
“I-I don-don't know wh-what you're asking a-about!” Sans cried and Gaster threw
him to the floor.
“The council meeting!” Gaster roared, rearing his leg back before he kicked
Sans harshly. Sans yelped, curling up to protect his body. “Did you think I
wouldn't find out?! That I wouldn't know!?”
“I don't know what happened!” Sans begged, curling in on himself even more as
Gaster kicked him yet again.
“Oh, so you have no idea why your brother scheduled a meeting with the
council?” Gaster sneered, not believing Sans in the slightest.
“What?” Sans whimpered, sockets wide.
“A meeting!” Gaster screaming yanking Sans up and shaking him. “Your brother
schedule a meeting with the council! One I am not even allowed to know about!
What did he tell you?!”
“I did not know!” Sans pleaded and Gaster snarled throwing Sans at the desk.
Sans cried out as his spine bashed into it awkwardly. Gaster leered down at
him, fists clenched tightly by his side.
“You better pray to the gods above you do, child. I want to know what that
council meeting is about,” Gaster ordered menacingly. “And you will find out.
Do you understand me, boy?” Gaster loomed over Sans who nodded, struggling to
stand under his sore and trembling body.
“Yes, sir!”
“He had gone against me for the last time.” Gaster snarled, slamming his hand
against the wall. He glanced back at Sans and growled. “GO!” He shouted and San
scrambled to his feet. “I want to know what that meeting is about and why he
called it! You will meet me in your room and you will have answers or so help
me, child. There isn't a force higher than Asgore who will save you.”
Gaster grabbed Sans' and marched him to the door that he unlocked and threw
open. He shoved Sans outside and looked to his guards.
“Follow him. He goes to the prince than to his chamber. Nowhere else.” The
guard nodded and stared down at Sans who was small and helpless. Gaster slammed
his door closed and the guards pushed the terrified skeleton forward. Sans
whimpered, forcing his legs to move.
A meeting with the council? What the hell was Papyrus thinking? Did he not know
Gaster would find out? Was he unaware of the repercussions of his actions? How
could he be so stupid? What was he even going to talk about? What was he going
to say? He had no business talking to the council!
The unknown had Sans disturbed. Papyrus had never acted like this before. He
had never done anything without consulting Sans. He had never acted so rashly.
There had to be some easy reason for this. Some explanation that was just taken
out context or blown out of proportion. Maybe Papyrus had chosen a bride and
wanted to inform the council? But why tell them first? What reason did his
brother have? Sans couldn't think of a single one and it made him so
overwhelmed.
Papyrus would tell him. He just needed to ask. Papyrus told him everything.
Papyrus would never hide something like this from Sans.
Sans tensed when he saw Papyrus exit his own bedroom dressed sharply.
“Papyrus!” Sans shouted and the prince looked up at him. He saw the guard and
looked surprised.
“Brother, what a surprise,” Papyrus noted. “I'm sorry I can't chat for long. I
have a council meeting to attend.” 
“That is why I am here,” Sans informed him, gesturing to the room. Papyrus
looked over the guards before he went back into his room and Sans stormed past
him. One guard waited outside but the other entered.
“Wait outside, guard,” Papyrus ordered.
“King's orders.” The guard replied, pushing past Papyrus and shutting the door.
Papyrus scowled and looked at his brother.
“We are discussing private business a guard can not-”
“It doesn't matter Papyrus!” Sans shouted, hardly caring about the guard
member. Papyrus frowned at the tone. “What are you doing?” Sans snapped at his
brother, filled with anger and fear. “What is this council meeting? Why have
you scheduled it without consulting me or the king? You have no business doing
this!”
“I do, brother. Anyone is allowed to schedule a meeting.”
“Only if they have information.”
“Or a personal request that cannot be fulfilled by the king,” Papyrus added and
Sans' sockets narrowed.
“What request?” He demanded.
“That, I'm afraid, I can't tell you.” Sans stilled, shock crossing his face.
“Excuse me?”
“You see brother, I'm aware of your position. Father send you, yes? Well, this
meeting I have planned may or may not regard information I don't want to be
relayed to him.” Papyrus carefully said, acting in a manner Sans had never seen
before. It terrified him. Papyrus told him everything. Papyrus didn't keep
secrets.
“It will be no matter what. The council must inform the king of all issues and
if this issue concerns the king he will be notified of it!”
“In most cases, but what makes you assume this concerns him?”
“All matters concern the king,” Sans stated and Papyrus shook his head.
“No, they don't. And it's because of this I can't tell you. You are a hard and
admirable worker Sans. You've made that painfully clear today. You are loyal to
Father, and for that reason, I can't tell you. You have secrets Sans, and I do
as well.” Secrets? Was that what this was about?
“Is that what this is about? Secrets? Are you trying to be petty?” Sans
questioned and Papyrus looked so leveled headed. He appeared as if he was
totally unaware of what his actions did. Unaware of the damage they'd do to
Sans.
“I'm doing what I know is best for this kingdom, just as you said, brother. A
king's duty is to his kingdom. I'm simply acting just as you or anyone else in
power. I fear it is you who has become estranged from that. You are blinded by
loyalty.” Papyrus said and Sans gasped.
“I am not! You are disobedient and a borderline traitor!” Sans cried and
Papyrus tensed. “You speak nothing but ill intentions and wishes upon the king.
You refuse and argue with all of his actions. You refuse to pick a bride. And
now you schedule a meeting with the council without discussing it with me or
him first! The only information you are telling them that you cannot share with
us is some lies regarding the king himself! Lies that will be public and noted
once I expose them! I am not the fool here Papyrus you are! You mistake love
and trust in OUR king for blind loyalty. Should the king ever be in the wrong
it is my job to inform him of it. I have! You know I have! I have saved this
kingdom from his actions more times than you can imagine! I have saved this
families reputation while you do nothing but attempt to ruin all my work! You
are nothing but a spoiled child! You cannot get what you wish the way you wish
it so you go to the council? Why? What is so important that you need to betray
me for it?” Sans asked and Papyrus inhaled sharply.
“I am not betraying you.”
“You have no idea how often you do.” Sans chuckled darkly. “You have never been
aware of you actions and how they hurt other. Your disobediences ruins me. Your
selfish actions hurt me. Your outbursts and disrespect hurt the king and I. You
have always betrayed me Papyrus but I have never blamed you because I was a
fool. But I refuse to take the blame for this. I refuse to stand by and allow
you to ruin me yet again. You have no idea how your actions affect me Papyrus.
How badly they hurt. You continue to not understand and only ruin everything I
have ever done to get you to where you are today. I have prepared you for the
place of king! Yet you continue to act like a child! The council will never see
you as king! Gaster no longer trusts me because of you. I am no longer fit to
lead you because of your actions, Papyrus. I refuse to stand by anymore. You
will no longer act as a child. You will no longer be unaware of the damage you
cause. If you go to this meeting brother, I will no longer be there for you. I
will not be there to listen to you complain. I will not be there to talk to
Father or to hear your excuses. I will no longer be by your side. You will have
crossed a line of treason and I will see you as nothing but a traitor to the
king. One who chooses his own self over the council, his king, and logic! If
you go to this meeting Papyrus, you will lose me.” Sans blurted, panting by the
end. He shook, pupils small and soul racing.
“I will save you,” Papyrus said and Sans just shook his head.
“You have sentenced me. If you want to save me, Papyrus, then cancel this
meeting. Cancel it, pick a bribe, and listen to your king.” Please. Sans wanted
to beg, to plead. He wanted to do anything in order to get Papyrus to stop the
meeting. He feared what came if he didn't. That blind rage had Sans in panic.
Knowing Gaster was waiting for him, most likely going to abuse him when he was
still recovering, Sans wanted to sob. His soul raced, tears forming as he
desperately tried to repress the utter agony his body was in during Gaster's
last fit of anger.
Sans couldn't do it again, he just couldn't.
Papyrus stood tall and with a sad expression. He watched his brother shake and
steam in front of him before he shut his eyes and shook his head.
“I'm doing this for you Sans,” Papyrus said before he turned away and left.
Sans stood frozen and staring at where his brother left. The guards stepped
forward, blocking the view and Sans faced them weak and completely at their
mercy.
“We'll escort you to your room now.”
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry for the delay. As I said, writing doesn't take priority. Life's
     been a real bitch lately and I don't have time to write.
     Thanks for the support! I'm shocked by many people like this fic.
     Why...
     Sorry for any errors!
***** Chapter 6 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Abuse, emotional abuse, physical abuse, violence, Sans get
     the shit beat outta him, rape, non-con, spanking/whipping?, bondage,
     gag, choking, multiple penetrations, forced oral sex, forced eco-vag
     sex, socket fucking, forced soul bonds,
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sans wondered if there was something wrong with him. After all, he endured, why
did he still think it was his own fault? There was a part of him that knew
nothing was. A part that was often so silent it seemed louder than all the
others. It sat within him, hiding in a place Sans couldn't reach as it gently
said he was not to blame. That it was Gaster's fault he was afraid and unhappy.
It was Papyrus' fault Gaster was mad at him. It was his mother's fault for
making him such a coward. Sans had so many people to blame that the anger began
to boil inside of him. A force so pent up and buried that emotions that went
with it had to be locked away as well. Sans couldn't allow himself a moment to
feel hurt or upset without years of abuse and repressed emotions pouring out of
him. So those thoughts and feeling were stashed away. Boiling, brewing, and
waiting for the day Sans added one too many thoughts and it would erupt.
What remained in front of this silent part were swarms of guilt and faults all
his own. The thoughts he forced himself to accept and realize in order to
repress all other. The faults Gaster told him or Sans made up in order to come
to terms with what he faced. It was his fault his mother died. It was his fault
she was miserable. It was his fault she could not get her dream. It was his
fault Papyrus grew up spoiled and disobedient. It was his fault Gaster fucked
him. It was his fault Gaster was upset at him. It was his fault for everything.
Sans was always to blame. He was always told so. How was he to believe anything
else?
He got hurt because he was too stupid to know better. He was upset at Papyrus
because he couldn't control his emotions. Papyrus revolted because Sans spoiled
him. His mother died because he was useless. Gaster abused him because he
wasn't good at his job. Every struggle in his life truly did had a simple
cause, and it was him.
Sans. The child who from birth was a disappointment.
Sans reflected on this as he laid on his bed. Gaster had left when someone came
to inform him that the council wanted to speak to him. He left Sans still tied
up and gagged but Sans did not care. He was too stiff and sore to move even if
he wasn't bound.
Everything hurt, but everything always hurt. Sans tried to think positively for
once, reminding himself that this was not the worst he had endured, but he knew
it wasn't over. Gaster wasn't done with him when he left and he'd most likely
only be more enraged when he returned.
The king was so angry when the guards shoved Sans inside his room. Sans could
do nothing but beg and whimper until Gaster shoved a cloth gag into his mouth.
He then unleashed his rage upon the skeleton who tried desperately to cover but
Gaster wasn't having it. He wanted to see him hurt and broken. He wanted Sans
to see how pathetic he was. He wanted anyone who looked at Sans to know that he
was nothing. The king bound his legs and arms, preventing Sans from hiding his
face and sensitive body parts. Gaster then pulled out a crop from under his
bed, most likely placed there the night before. Sans only begged uselessly
before Gaster raised his arm and swung it down. The slap echoed in the room and
instantly Sans scream. Within seconds his bones were a maroon color where the
crop had struck him but Gaster did not slow down. He continued to strike him
over and over and over. At first with purpose but he slowly lost control ending
up beating Sans with it until it slipped out of his hand.
Sans was left choking, gasping for air between his screams and sobs. Gaster's
hits had no rhyme or reason. They landed everywhere from his face to his feet.
Most hit the right side of his body but still, the front and back were hit as
well. There were far too many lacerations to count, his marrow, magic, and
blood seeping out and dripping onto the sheets below. Sans quivered, digits
curling as his body stung as if he had been branded. He could hardly feel parts
of his body, only sensing the chill of the air hitting his wet bones. The gag
in his mouth was wet, saliva, snot, and tears staining his face.
Sans jerked when he felt the unmistakable slimy magic of Gaster touch him. His
tendrils formed, curling around Sans body and the skeleton recoiled but they
tightened preventing him from escaping. Three rested by his pelvis, toying with
it as two took each limb and one thick one traced his face. Gaster spoke to him
but Sans struggled to focus. Sans could hardly hear anything over his rapidly
beating soul and wet breathing. Gaster's magic hummed, radiating a dominance
and power that Sans instinctively cowered away from. His magic submitted,
putting up no fight or battle. He knew it would be a losing one. 
Unwillingly, his body formed his abused sex and without warning the three
tendrils forced their way inside. Sans threw his head back and screamed. He
kicked out but the tendrils around his legs forced him down. The ropes around
his feet and wrists dug into his bones and Sans could feel the burn of it
cutting into him. Sans struggled to breathe as his entrance burned, stretched
out and abused by the multiple penetrations. They wiggled inside of him and
Sans could feel them move which made him sick. To feel such a lively part
within him always made Sans want to vomit. They began to trust at uneven paces,
never giving Sans a moment's rest. Their unequal size and girth overwhelmed
him, one always pushing too far while another stretched too much. Sans' fingers
dug into whatever was close, his own hands and sheets, yanking as he shrieked
behind the gag. He was far from lubricated enough for one intrusive force let
alone three. They scrapped against his sensitive walls, feeling more like
clawing hands than magic tendrils as they raked his insides.
Sans was suddenly spun around by the tendrils on his limbs. They positioned him
with his pelvis in the air and face in the bed below, Gaster's magic now
plowing inside. Sans bit down on the gag, the constant wet slapping noise of
the magic fucking him echoing inside of his skull. His spine was arch
painfully, body thrust forward with each lung of the tendrils.
The magic by his face curled around his neck and squeezed. Sans' sockets shot
up, pupils the size of needles as he panicked. Another appeared and Sans found
the gag being pulled from his face. Before he could even breathe another
flaccid tendril forced itself inside. Sans gagged instantly, mouth parted as
far as it could go as the magic lodged itself inside his mouth. He sobbed,
tears streaming down his face as he willed his body to relax, trying to get
through Gaster's rage as best as he could. The constant stimulation prevented
him from fading away, genuinely terrified Gaster would kill him. The magic
around his neck would loosen only to tighten until Sans felt as if he was about
to pass out. It overwhelmed him, his soul frantic fearful death was closer than
it wished.
The magic shoved itself inside his holes harshly before they came, releasing
their slimy foul substance inside of him. Sans instantly felt the need to vomit
as the tendril in his mouth covered the inside of his skull in Gaster's slimy
seed. He dry heaved, as the one penetrating his sex pulsated, pumping him with
more of Gaster's cum. As the magic in his mouth began to pull out Sans could
not hold back the vomit that rose. He turned his head to the side and threw up,
spewing out all Gaster forced down his throat. The ones inside remained, still
rocking themselves as they milked themselves dry. He cringed, feeling their
release drip out of him and he vomited once more. Sans was left dry heaving by
the end of it, nothing left inside of him to hack up. Sans wept as his body
gave out, face in his own vomit and body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He
felt completely soaked, covered in ungodly fluids and given no rest. Even now
the king's magic remained around his neck and inside of him offering not even a
moment of relief.
The king snatched Sans up by his neck and looked at him with an icy expression.
“Why did Papyrus call the meeting?” Gaster asked and Sans shook his head,
choking on a sob.
“I—I-I d-d-on-don't-t-t kn-kn-know-w!” He forced out and Gaster just frowned.
“Fine,” Gaster dropped him back into the puddle of fluids. “Then we'll
continue.” The tendrils moved and Sans moaned shaking his head rapidly.
“H-He did-didn't tell-ll m-me any-anything!” He cried. Gaster stuffed the gag
back into his mouth and glared.
“I will start breaking bones child,” Gaster threatened. “This is your last
chance. What is Papyrus discussing with the council?” Gaster removed the gag
and Sans bawled.
“I don't know!”
“You always have to be so fucking difficult.”
Sans quivered as the memory passed. His breath hitched when the rope that tied
his wrists behind his back twitched and rubbed the already raw and bleeding
bone. The sudden inhale sent a shock of pain through his bruised and fractured
ribs. Sans shut his eyes, face throbbing from being punched, fucked, and
slapped. He steadied his breathing, not wanting to worsen the ache. His teeth
bit down on the gag, drool sliding down his chin joining the puddle of liquids
below.
This is where Gaster left him, rage far from subdued and a threat to return. He
had been gone for no more than ten minutes but it felt so much longer. The
fluids began to dry on his bones, his wounds starting to close by clotted magic
and blood, but the air still smelt absolutely putrid. Sans wished his body
would just give out and so his senses wouldn't work. So he couldn't see the
puddles of vomit, cum, and blood he laid on. So he couldn't smell the blood and
puke. So he couldn't taste the bile, blood, and stale cum in his mouth. So he
wouldn't feel the absolute agony every inch of his bony body was in.
All Sans could think about was how much he failed. About how if he had only
raised Papyrus better none of this would have happened. Sans wasn't his mother.
He couldn't raise Papyrus as she had and expect a perfect child. After all,
Sans was far from perfect. He was the child no one wanted. Sans had spent his
life idealizing a figure who had failed just as he had. His mother was dead,
raped, and taken advantage of until Gaster got what he wanted. Now, Sans would
follow that same path. No wonder Papyrus turned out the way he did. His mother
failed, Sans failed, and now Papyrus would fail.
Had he been wrong to look up to his mother? All her teachings and parenting had
led him here, to exactly where she was. A whore to the king. Papyrus would
never become a whore, but he could become a failure and weren't those one in
the same?
The door opened and Sans tensed. He held his breath unable to see who entered.
The sharp and solid click of heels against the floor informed him it was
Gaster. He felt no ease at the knowledge.
“It would appear the council wishes to have a meeting with you, alone,” Gaster
announced and the ropes dug into Sans bones as he trembled. “Know what it's
about?” Gaster asked appearing in front of Sans. He loomed over him, looking at
Sans as the vile creature he was. Sans shook his head, whimpering around the
gag. “I suppose it doesn't matter. Either way, you won't be attending.” Sans
nodded. A swift slap across his face got him to still. Gaster glared, sneering
down at him. Sans averted his gaze, fearful of eye contact. Gaster yanked him
up and shoved him against the frame of the bed. Sans' body was like a rag doll,
bashing into the hardwood before flopping back onto the bed. His vision whited
out momentarily as pain blossomed across his entire back. He arched his back
involuntarily which worsened the pain. Several vertebrae were fractured or
broken making any movement of his torso utter hell.
“I don't want you to so much as blink,” Gaster spat. “I am through with your
lies and honeyed words. If you had a real tongue I would cut it out of your
mouth. You won't be going to that meeting, in fact, you won't be going anywhere
until I'm off the throne. You will stay here, sick. So very, very, very sick.
So sick no one can come in and you can never leave.” Gaster was inches away
from his face. Sans bowed his head submissively, sockets squeezed shut as his
body rattled, trembling in fear.
“You'll be bed ridden just like your whore of a mother.” Gaster leaned away
from the skeleton. “You're mine now and I think it's time everyone knew it.
Because, just like your mother, she loved to lie too. She lied all the time but
I was sick of it.” The king reached out and yanked the gag out of San's mouth.
“You know what I did to her, Sans. You saw her. I'll break you just like I
broke her. Because that's the only way little-lying whoreslike you learn,”
Gaster seethed, oozing such a violent aura Sans couldn't help but visibly
recoil away. Gaster inhaled deeply, calming himself.
“Tell me, Sans. How do you make ensure someone doesn't lie? How do you know
they are or aren't lying?” Gaster asked gently.
“I don't know,” Sans replied in a hoarse and quiet tone. He refused to meet his
gaze still and Gaster snarled. The king shoved the gag back into the princess'
mouth and forced Sans head up and their eyes to meet.
“Their soul,” Gaster said softly, tapping his finger over Sans' hidden soul.
Sans flinched but Gaster's hold was strong. “No one can lie if you know what
they feel. And I knew what your mother felt all the time. I had her soul, Sans.
Just as she had mine. They were bonded. Anyone who saw her knew it. They knew I
owned her, and I knew I did as well. I could feel it. Sometimes I still do.
That phantom agony she always felt, the helplessness and total submission
knowing I was her king and dominated her and got whatever I wanted from her no
matter what.” Gaster shivered and exhaled, seeming almost lost in the bliss at
the pleasure of the memory.
“I think it's time you stopped lying Sans,” Gaster whispered, finger tapping
over the ribs that hid his soul. “I don't trust you. I can't trust you. But I
can ensure that I know what you feel every second of the day.” The king's
fingers curled around the ribs, one reaching out to graze the soul and Sans
jerked away violently. Gaster chuckled softly, yanking him closer.
“You know what Papyrus told me during our lunch?” He asked changing the topic.
“He said he refused to choose a bride because the one he wanted wasn't on the
list.” Sans' sockets widened. “Now I wondered what he could mean by that. I
mean, after all this time he never once expressed any true interest in anyone.
No love affair. So, curiously, I asked what bride he wanted and do you know
what he said?” Gaster said with a slight laugh. He tightened his grip on the
rib before he scratched his finger over Sans' soul. Sans threw his head back
and screamed into the gag that muffled him. “He said he wanted you.” Gaster
threw Sans onto the bed letting out a fake laugh. “As if you are a choice. As
if you were a bride.” Sans curled up, breaths ragged as his soul pulsated.
Gaster faced the window, fingers strumming again the hard stone. Sans could
almost see his shadow growing, boiling and festering as Gaster's rage consumed
him.
“I'm tired of his interference. I'm tired of his ignorance. I'm done with his
obsession with you.” Gaster faced him, eye-lights a dark violet. “I'm going to
take you, Sans. I'm going to claim you and make you mine so he can never have
you. He'll look at you and do you know what he'll feel and sense?” Gaster
stepped forward and Sans shrunk away. “Domination,” the king said with a grin.
“He'll feel me owning you. And won't that just be delicious? Can you imagine
the look of betrayal and disgust on his face? He'll know you lied to him and
never loved him. Everything you shared will be broken and ruined. He'll want
nothing to do with you and won't that just be grand? You'll finally have no one
but me. You'll never have anyone but me. And it's time you two realized that.”
Sans felt his soul quiver, an icy chill sent down his entire body. He couldn't
even process the hurt and stupidity of his brother's actions. He couldn't
comprehend the threats Gaster said to him. He could only latch onto the idea of
Gaster owning his soul. A though so utterly horrifying for once he felt like
screaming out for help.
 A soul bond was a dangerous thing. A soul bond is an act of love or a shackle
to your owned. When two souls have bonded they share each other's burdens. It's
a way to sense and know if you mate is in trouble or needs you. It's a way to
sense and know about one another without having to ask. Many couples develop
one over time, allowing their souls to connect and reach a level of love and
beauty the young envy. The soul was a monster's being. Owning it meant you had
access to their feelings, and at times thoughts. The souls reacted to one
another speaking almost in a secret language only the two could share. The idea
was romantic and a symbol of undying love, but it could just as easily become a
shackle.
The soul could be dominated, own by another instead of forming an equal bond.
It then had access to the soul at all times, knowing all thoughts and feelings,
using them to their advantage. Every time you felt fear, when you felt pleasure
without them, when you lied, or try to hide they'd know. For Gaster to have
that power would be the end of Sans. For Gaster to know all his lies and feel
all his emotions was suicide. Sans lived off lying. He relied on it in order to
have the strength to get up in the morning. Every word he spoke to Gaster was
laced in falsehood and deceit. To be aware of that meant Sans would become
nothing more than Gaster's slave.
But was that so far from where he was now?
“You know how to form a soul bond, Sans?” Gaster asked uselessly. Sans was too
paralyzed to process the question but he had a feeling Gaster wasn't interested
in an answer. “The common way is love and acceptance. A trust between two
monsters in a moment of intimacy. But, I know better than to think you would
trust me or love me. I know you don't Sans,” Gaster cooed, dragging a finger
under his chin. “But you don't have to,” Gaster smirked. “Your mother didn't
because you don't need love and kindness to get what you want. You need fear
and power. The other way to get your soul is by domination. When one soul is so
weak, mentally, physically, emotionally. When one is so broken and pathetic and
beaten that death itself is at the door, that is when the other soul enters and
claims them. It dominates them and takes over their pathetic soul and forced
itself inside. Oh, it's much more painful this way. But that's why I'll give
you a chance Sans. One last chance.” Gaster smiled kissing the princess'
forehead. Sans' stared up at him with hollow eyes and consumed with terror.
“I'll fuck you good and long. I'll have you moaning in pleasure and so lost in
the utter bliss. I'll let you have your chance to accept me, princess. It's a
lot easier and a lot less painful. But, if you don't then I'll force my way
inside. I will break you. I will destroy you. I will reduce you to nothing. You
will beg me for death, Sans, your mother did. I broke her and I can break you.
Either way, I get what I want.” Gaster removed his belt and then his pants
stripping down completely.
Gaster climbed onto the bed and untied Sans' legs. The touch jolted him out of
his shock. Instantly his legs began kicking. He scrambled away, trying to flee
as he cried out behind the gag.
Sans couldn't do this. He couldn't have his soul be taken. It scared him to
even think of it. Gaster couldn't control him like that. Sans wouldn't live, he
couldn't live. He wouldn't even survive the torture to come. The only thing
waiting for him was death and Sans felt tears form at the very thought. He was
a coward. He was pathetic. He was the shame of the family. And he did not want
to end up just like his mother.
Sans screamed when a hand grabbed his ankle. He yanked his limb away but the
hold on his sore ankle was that of iron. Gaster dragged him back over, face red
with boiling hot rage. Sans' still tied hand clung to the sheets, tearing holes
as he was wrenched away. His grip slipped, body tugged down the bed and over to
Gaster. Sans shouted and shrieked behind the gag frantically waving his head to
get it off. He flung his legs around, trying to kick or stop anything Gaster
tried to do to him.
This would be his final attempt at freedom. His once chance to be free. His one
last shot to change his decided fate. For once in his life, he wouldn't submit.
He'd fight.
Sans' foot collided into Gaster's face and he would have laughed had he not
been fighting for his life. The blow caused Gaster to stumble back for only a
second. He looked shocked, hand holding the injured area. Sans rolled onto his
front, barely able to even move a leg before he felt a hand on the back of his
neck. Sans stilled like a cat caught by the scruff of their neck. Sans was
flipped onto his back and a whimper escaped him when he felt Gaster's magic
hold his legs down. Sans faced Gaster who glares down at him. He was fuming,
his teeth scraping against each other as he squeezed Sans' neck, his face
contorted into such unyielding hatred. The skeleton let out a choked gurgle of
a noise, bound hands clawing at the sheets as his pupils vanished.
“You have made a very large mistake,” the king hissed. Gaster let go of his
neck and Sans struggled to inhale. The gag offered no help in breathing in the
needed oxygen. Gaster sneered down at him, slapping Sans across the face before
he walked to the door. The blow had Sans seeing stars, the force of it alone
snapping his neck awkwardly.
“Tie his legs to the bed,” Gaster ordered and Sans watched as two guards
entered. Sans tried one last time to break free but the tendrils around him
tightened to the point where he swore he heard his bones creak ready to snap.
The guards moved forward one grabbing his left leg while the other grabbed the
right. Sans was easily pinned down, a weak rag doll compared to the trained and
armored guards. His adrenalin fear was fading quickly, reminding himself of the
utter agony he was on. His legs were tied to the poles of the bed, spread far
apart to the point where his femur joints ached. The guards stood by, staring
down at Sans and Gaster grabbed a robe and tugged it on not bothering to tie it
shut. He sat down in a chair and stared at Sans looking at him as if he was
some common whore. His eyes held no love like a father should. They held no
admiration as a lover. They held nothing but disgust, hate, and animosity. The
king's gaze lazily dragged up to the guards.
“Fuck him,” He ordered and Sans tensed. He yanked on the ropes, voice muffled
by the gag. The shorter guard advanced forward, removing the heavy armor. “He
can take you both. Don't worry.” Gaster smirked looking back at Sans, drinking
in his fearful expression. “His mouth is a little occupied, but his sockets
works just as well if you don't want to share one hole.” Tears streamed down
his face as Sans shook his head violently, trying desperately to get away. The
ropes sliced into his already raw limbs, his marrow, blood, and magic trickling
down his arms as legs. The two guards crawled onto the bed. One rested between
his legs, fingers rubbing around his pelvis while the other rested on his
chest, cock out and standing in front of Sans' face. Sans recoiled away but was
held in place. He turned his head, trying to get away from the vile sight
before him. His sockets were shut tight, refusing to allow anyone inside. Sans
jolted and cried out when a tongue started licking along his pubic and sacrum
trying to solidify the magic that was formed there. The cock before him began
rutting against his face, pre-cum sliding along his closed socket and cheek. It
lubricated itself on his tears, one hand resting on Sans' skull to get him to
face him.
Sans sobbed into the gag. He felt so tainted, so used. He had always hated
Gaster and their time together. He could practically feel his inky magic
staining him and corrupting his body. As time passed he accepted it but could
never adapt to the filth that remained. No bath or soap could cleanse him. But
Sans at least felt mild comfort in the fact that it was only his father. But
Sans didn't know these guards. He didn't know who they fucked or what putrid
sexual fantasies they had. Sans shivered just wondering how many filthy whores
they fucked in the city. The fact that those same cocks were going to fuck him
made him want to vomit.
Gaster hated sharing. He hated Sans being dominated and fucked by another
monster. But this was punishment. Sans only feared what others were in store.
“Stop,” Gaster called and the guards stilled. Sans did as well, sockets opening
and shooting over to the king. Gaster walked back over to Sans and peered down
at him with an expression of fake pity. He did not love. He did not care. He
wanted Sans to be his object his possession, his doll. Sans knew tears wouldn't
work. Objects did not cry. Objects did not beg. Objects did not feel, and for
as long as Sans felt, Gaster would continue to break him until he was nothing
but a shell. An empty husk of bones. Then he'd swoop in and collect his soul
and prize.
“This is your last chance, Sans,” Gaster said gently. “Will you submit to me or
take these guards?” Gaster removed the gag and Sans sobbed.
Sans couldn't, he literally couldn't even if he wanted to. He couldn't offer
his soul if his soul didn't wish to be taken. Sans didn't love Gaster. He
didn't care about Gaster. He hated Gaster and for that his soul refused him.
Even if he wanted to lie or even hand it over, it would be an empty gesture.
Knowing this Sans was left with nothing. No way out, no lie to tell. No beg to
plea and no tears to shed. He could only pray to the gods that Gaster would
have mercy.
“P-P-Please d-d-don't-” he started to beg and Gaster placed the gag back in his
mouth and tightened it.
But the gods never answered his prayers.
“Your choice,” Gaster said reaching out and holding open the socket. Sans
frantically begged, all muffled and useless. Gaster's fingers clawed at the
inside of his skull, forcing open the socket. Sans could feel his soul reject
the penetration, the sensitive area feeling violated. “Here, he can be so
difficult at times.” The king said to the guard lining Sans up with the shaft.
Gaster scowled down at his disobedient son but Sans just screamed as the cock
was forced into his socket. Gaster moved down his body, curling his fingers
around the pubic arc and stroking it as he ran two fingers over the sacrum.
“Like this,” he demonstrated to the guard. “His sex will form much faster this
way.” The guard took over where Gaster left off and the king returned to his
seat.
Sans wept, tears streaming down his face as his socket was invaded. He hated
being touched there. The raw magic was too sensitive. It burned and felt as if
Sans' head was being hammered with every thrust. The magic was too close to the
magic of his soul, causing his entire body to feel the unwanted and violating
force. His being began rejecting it, shivering and dry heaving at forceful
thrusts. The guard's hands wrapped around his head, fucking himself with Sans'
skull. Sans' pupils vanished, raspy and long moans of displeasure escaping him
only occasionally interrupted by hiccuping sobs.
The other guard was rewarded quickly when Sans' pussy formed due to the forced
stimulation. He was dry but it did not stop the guard from hilting himself in
one go. Sans arched off the bed, toes curling and hands scraping behind him as
his pelvis was set ablaze by the burn and agony of the harsh intrusion. His
spine cried out as the injured vertebrae were moved so harshly. The shriek that
escaped him left him breathless. Sans couldn't take in enough air for each gasp
of it was removed quickly by a shriek.
Gaster sat in the corner and watched with a small smirk. He poured a small
glass of wine and began sipping from the glass as if this was some dinner and
show. He watched his child and slut be raped with utter content and joy. Much
to his surprise, Sans did not once stop struggling. His toes curled, legs
kicked, and his body struggling and squirmed but the ropes held him down. He
continued to scream and beg behind the gag and Gaster grinned as it became more
and more hoarse and broken. The sooner that was over with the better.
Gaster did not say a word or try to stop the guards once. Not when the guards
dug his nails into Sans' skull, clawing at it as he groaned and pumping himself
in the socket. Not when blood was drawn for the nails or even when he saw
socket begin leaking what appeared to be magic. The king did nothing as the
monster between Sans' legs abused his entrance. Nor when he grabbed Sans' spine
and ribs for leverage to fuck himself further on. Gaster didn't so much as
blink when Sans laid there screaming, twitching, and crying. Blood seeped from
the old wounds and new ones. Gaster waited for them to finish before he even
moved. He sat and witnessed his guards' climax filling his toy with their seed
before they pulled out. They did it slowly, ensuring they were fully satisfied
before pulling away. Gaster then got a full display of the damage. His toy's
entrance was leaking magic and cum, bruised by the punishing pace of the
guards. His sockets were empty and one leaking as well and appeared to have a
small fracture no doubt caused by the abuse of the area. Sans was left
quivering and weeping, his exposed sex shamefully on display. He looked so
broken and defeated but Gaster knew he was far from either. Gaster smiled up at
the guard who both seemed pleased with their work, almost as much as Gaster.
“Care for another go?” He offered and Sans squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his
head as he spoke into the gag. The guards seemed eager, though. “Remove his
gag,” Gaster ordered and one guard tugged it down.
“F-Fath-ther p—p-please!” Sans begged voice shredded from his screams. Gaster
only sighed as a response before he tutted.
“Now Sans, I had nothing to do with this. This is your choice. Your fault,”
Gaster reminded. The king sat up and began making his way over. “And I'll get
the entire army in here to fuck you if I have to. If you don't submit I have to
punish you.”
“I-I can't,” Sans wailed. “I-I can't, m-my s-s-soul!” Mercy. Sans pleaded for
mercy. He needed it.
“I know, child, I know.” Gaster cooed, almost sounding believable. Hell, the
king almost felt pity for Sans, but just the memory of his son shrieking and
getting raped had him smiling. “That's why these two guards here are going to
use you like a common whore until they are happy. Then, I'll get two more and
they'll fuck you till they are happy. Then I'll ask you again if you'll give me
your soul. And if you don't, I'll do this all over again. And I'll continue to
hurt you until your soul is mine. It's going to take days, maybe even weeks.
Your mother took an entire month and eight days. I can only hope you'll take
longer,” Gaster purred at the end before he spun around and sat back down. He
made a small gesture and the gag was shoved back into Sans' mouth. The skeleton
whimpered, shaking his head to no avail. Gaster sighed happily and sat back
down. “This is just day one, child.” Gaster smiled, taking a long sip of wine.
Chapter End Notes
     Well, I am shocked by the lack of faith in Papyrus! No one trusts
     him? Perhaps...rightfully so?
     I'll also come out and say that this story won't just be abuse
     forever. I don't like to draw this kinda stuff out for too long
     because to me it's boring. Like ten chapters in Sans is still being
     beaten, ya okay we get it, he's unhappy, let's move along with the
     plot, please. This story includes this abuse and stuff for a reason
     and isn't the entire plot. That isn't to say this story is over when
     all the bad stuff stops. Because if you know my past fics, you know I
     don't stop and end on the note of 'Love saved the day!'. This story
     will totally go into the dark, dark side of what happens when you are
     abused for so long and it will influence all members involved. It
     will, of course, be a very short version of it because I don't want
     to be here forever, but I just want it to be known this ain't a
     Disney movie. If you are easily triggered or not a fan of realistic
     depression, trauma, and ptsd type of stuff I recommend you stop after
     the next chapter. The warnings will continue to be at the beginning
     as always, but this is my warning to you.
     And also, the next update will take a while to come out. 1) Because
     it's over 20 pages and that is without even editing it so it will
     only get longer. For those who are new, I got a few reading
     disabilities which is why my writing is never perfect. I do try to
     catch all I can but because of dyslexia and a few others, a lot goes
     unnoticed. and 2) My brother, who joined the airforce, got told the
     position he applied for requires him to leave in less than nine days.
     He has yet to be confirmed for it completely, but still, it's a scary
     and sad time for me since until this day we have never really been
     apart. I ask for your patience with the next chapter. Unless my bro
     doesn't get the position, I am really in no mood to write anything
     right now and want to spend as much time wit him as possible. Even if
     he doesn't get it, the scare is still something that really shook me
     and has me quite frazzled.
     Thank you again for all the wonderful support! Sorry this author's
     not got so long. Sorry for any errors.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: TORTURE, Rape, multiple penetrations, socket fucking, oral
     sex, vaginal sex, spanking, choking, mental torture, verbal abuse,
     physical abuse, mental abuse, abuse, self-hatred, negative thought,
     forced soul bond, wax play, bondage?, sans is tied up and gagged,
     prolonged torture. This is a bad chapter of 100% rape and abuse you
     have been warned.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sans had difficulty sleeping as of late. Three days had passed since Papyrus
condemned him and each day had gotten worse and worse. Gaster had informed the
castle Sans was ill and unable to even get out of bed. Few were allowed to
enter, and no one but those who worked for Gaster were even allowed in. Sans
was left at the mercy of Gaster's personal staff and he had truly
underestimated their cruelty. They were truly hired by Gaster.
The first day had been brutal and painful but not something Sand couldn't
tolerate. The only thing different from his normal abuse was instead of Gaster
fucking him all day it was his guards that took up the job. They spared him no
mercy, ordered so by Gaster himself and after the first two sets of guards left
Sans gave up and stopped fighting. It just made things easier.
The second day Sans woke up to the guards in his room. The only time he ever
recalled a guard in his room before was when there was an attack on the castle
and needed protection. Sans had heard no word of attack but trapped in his room
he wasn't aware of very many things. For all he knew, there could be an attack.
With a firm tone, he asked why the guards were there but got no answer.
Annoyed, he asked again but only received a cold stare. Now angry, Sans shouted
at the guards but they did not like that. Sans yelped as they shoved him into
the bed and tied him up like he had been the past day or two. They then
proceeded to rape him until Gaster entered his room. The king said nothing and
just waited for them to be finished before he had them leave. He then pulled up
a chair and sat by Sans' bed and began to tell Sans how useless he was. How he
could end this if he wanted. How this was his fault. How Papyrus was so
miserable because of him. How his mother was a liar and a cheat. Gaster then
moved to the bed and hovered over Sans continuing to fill his head with lies
and ill-thoughts. He began pleasuring Sans, gently fingering his damaged sex
and petting him like a child. Sans gave in with a sob. Sans hated those moments
the most when Gaster got Sans to accept his rapist and to enjoy it. It made him
sick.
Gaster kissed him, telling Sans that he loved it. That the reason Sans came was
because he felt good and that he loved Gaster. The king continued to toy with
his sex, earning moans and whimpers that he drank up and used. He asked Sans if
he liked it if he wanted him to go on and Sans answered pathetically, driven by
his sexual drive. When he came again he was in tears, so disgusted with
himself. Gaster then asked him for his soul to which Sans cried and shook his
head unable to answer. Gaster then pulled out the horse crop from before and
swiftly struck Sans. The king would then insult him before swatting him once
more. It was rhythmic and purposeful. Each hit was direct and sharp, never
faltering once.
He was useless. Swat. A failure. Swat. A whore. Swat. He was nothing. Swat.
Sans wasn't sure when he stopped, the sting never fading enough to allow him
time to even breathe let alone question time. Sans clung to the stained pillow,
teeth biting into it as he wept and moaned. Gaster then set down the crop and
toyed with Sans once more, dragging his fingers over the bruised lips of his
sex. Sans was far from turned on, but Gaster knew how to work his body. Sans
hated that he did.
The rest of the day turned into a confusing battle of pain and pleasure.
Whenever the king had to leave a guard would enter and resume where he left off
until he returned. Then Gaster would pleasure Sans until he was a moaning mess
before he resumed the abuse. The voices and whispers never once stopped. If it
was not Gaster then it was the guards or sometimes even Sans' own mind.
Gaster's words echoed causing new forms of self-hate and utter repugnance for
himself to fester and grow. By the end of the day, wheezing and struggling to
remain conscious Sans started answering back as Gaster worked between his legs.
Gaster had simply asked a question he had no expected an answer to. Overcome
with negativity and loathing, Sans replied.
“It's my fault.” His voice was all but gone. A mere horse whisper barely
audible over the wet noises of his pussy. But Gaster heard and he stared
completely taken aback by it. He then curled his fingers, brushing them against
Sans' sensitive spot. He leaned over Sans, breath hot against his face.
“You're a harlot,” Gaster panted. “You're nothing but a tramp, aren't you?”
“Y-Yes.” Sans cried out as Gaster's fingers skillfully worked inside of him.
“You love this. You're so wet.” Gaster groaned, steadily pumping his fingers.
Sans moaned into the pillow, nodding his head. “You love this. You love me.
You've came so many times for me. You love this, don't you? You love me don't
you?” Sans nodded but Gaster growled, stilling his hand. “Answer me.” He
ordered and Sans whined. His hands flew down to Gaster's shoving it back inside
of him.
“Yes, I want this!” He sobbed, tears swelling up in his sockets. His sex begged
for more, body giving into it. His soul revolted, going against all Sans'
thoughts. Sans felt sick, wanting to vomit at his own words. He was so weak, so
pathetic, so helpless. At the slightest stimulation, he turned into a slut.
Perhaps he did like this. Maybe he had always loved it. Sans just lied because
he knew it was wrong. 
He cried out, stuffing his face in the pillow when Gaster's tongue joined his
fingers. He tightened around them cumming instantly.
God, it felt so good. The pleasure took away the pain and abuse. It left him
happy even if for a moment. It allowed him a moment of peace and clarity. He
just wanted a moment to himself. A time without fear and pain. He woke up
afraid and fell asleep in agony. It was never ending. But now he felt bliss and
pleasure and it was beautiful.
“M-More!” Sans begged, rocking his hips against the hand. He didn't want to go
back to pain. He didn't want to go back to misery.
“I need you to tell me you love me, princess,” Gaster said softly, his free
hand already pumping his erect cock. “Tell me you want me. You want your king's
cock don't you?”
 “I-I want it,” Sans whimpered, swallowing down a gag. “I-I want my king's
cock. Father, I want you to make me feel good.” Sans begged, tears spilling as
his soul rejected the words. “I-I-I l-love you and I w-want you inside me. I
want you to fuck me.” Sans forced out and Gaster was panting over him, length
looking strained as precum dripped from it.
“Princess,” he groaned, burying his face in Sans' neck. His dark tongue licked
a long strip before his teeth playfully nibbled the bruised bones. Sans moaned,
no longer hiding in the pillow. He was practically vibrating with excitement as
he felt the head of Gaster's cock push inside of him. Sans gasped, clinging
onto his king as he exhaled a long moan. The bruises faded, cuts gone, and pain
nonexistent. Sans could only focus on his sexual hunger, how his walls
tightened around Gaster's shaft. He felt his slick drip out of him, joining the
pool of wet and dried substances below.
Sans wasn't sure when he had last actually enjoyed a time with his father.
Perhaps it was when he was little and unaware of what it meant. After that, it
was all fake and disgusting. Now, Sans just felt pleasure. He rocked into each
trust, fingers clawing at Gaster's back, moaning and panting like a dog in
heat. He happily returned Gaster's affection, tongue exploring one another's
mouth as they kissed. Sans all but screamed in pleasure as he came. He
collapsed, completely spent. Gaster was still not close, though, picking up
where Sans' left off. Sans whimpered, his sexual drive fading as his exhaustion
took over. He let out quiet protests and rejection before he was suddenly
sharply impaled on the shaft. Sans found his face being covered by the soaked
pillow as he shrieked as Gaster came. The king groaned, head thrown back as he
filled Sans with burst after burst of his seed. His hips continued their
punishing pace, even when he was finished he rocked them gently saving his
afterglow.
Sans was left gasping and twitching, the sudden pain bringing forth the agony
off all the others. He was tight around the cock within, seed seeping out of
his filled entrance. The horrors of his words and actions replayed in Sans'
mind. Sans shivered as Gaster slipped out of him and felt the urge to throw up
rise when he felt the king's seed trickle out of him.
“Sans,” Gaster panted gaining his attention. Sans' pupils shot up to him, small
and sharp. He knew his face expressed the horror he felt. He knew Gaster could
read it and loved it. Sans wasn't sure what he did, but he fell for it and
hated every fiber of his being for it.
“You're nothing but a whore, Sans,” Gaster told him pulling away. “Perhaps I
can get you to beg for even more next time.”
The words shook Sans to his very core. How could he have acted like that? How
could he have begged Gaster to fuck him and meant it?! Because it felt good?
Had he lost his mind? His dignity?
The actions disturb Sans so deeply that the next day he rejected all that was
done to him. Whenever Gaster tried to please him he tried to get away or scream
out. It resulted in him being tied and gagged once more, but still Sans glared.
Gaster was not pleased with this at all. So much so that halfway through the
day he called off his meetings in order to devote the rest of his time to
punishing Sans. First, it was with spanking but soon he grew tired of it. He
wanted more of a reaction and decided to get creative. He plucked a candle from
its holder and looked it over before he tilted it over Sans' pelvis. After a
moment a drop fell and Sans recoiled when it landed on his abused bone. It
stung and left his already corroded body with more filth to clean. But Gaster
seemed happy with it and continued to drip drop after drop of wax across his
body. Sans grit his teeth, glaring daggers at him the entire time. The short
sting was hardly comparable to the crop. The lack of screaming must have bored
Gaster greatly for he set the candle back in its place and looked Sans over.
“Why are you so disobedient?” He asked expecting no answer. “You're stubborn
nature will be your undoing.” Gaster huffed, rising to his feet and walking
over to the fire in the corner of the room. The small fireplace was hardly
used, Sans never quite being a fan of the work required to light it and put it
out. Gaster had always enjoyed a nice fire, though, the few times Sans was ever
in his room he had a large fire burning brightly almost as powerful as Gaster
himself at times.
“I'm not the most creative at times,” Gaster began looking over the fire.
“There is little a king can do out character. When it comes to punishments I am
either the one to order the execution or condemn a horrible criminal. Neither
are exciting really. I don't get to truly torture monster or humans just order
it to be done. Those torture jobs are for the dungeon workers as you know. But
even still, those creatures aren't injured nearly as badly as animals.” Gaster
picked up a poker and looked it over before he stuck it into the fire, nudging
a few logs and seeming pleased with the embers that shot out. “We whip horses
daily to get then from place to place. We slaughter countless animals for sport
or food. We starve dogs to make them feral and bloodthirsty. I guess I could
order those things to be done to higher beings but then I'd be out of
character.” Gaster removed the poker staring at it dull red glow before
sticking it back inside the fire. “But a lot goes on here that the outside
doesn't know about.” Gaster glanced back at Sans who watched him warily. “Power
buys your secrets. Fears earns you sealed lips. Look at how well it closed
yours.” Sans flinched at the sentence. “So who's lips will dare spill what
happens in this room?” Gaster asked aloud removing the poker that was now
practically yellow from absorbing the scorching heat. Gaster seemed content as
he walked back over to Sans who was stiff, eyes locked on the poker. “Who will
ever know that I treated you like some animal?” Gaster asked looking Sans over
before he lifted the poker and placed it on his son's femur. Sans shrieked,
kicking out as he watched the poker burn his bone. Gaster removed it quickly,
but it left behind a foul looking mark. Sans sobbed, body beginning to tremble
uncontrollably as he focused only on the intense and agonizing burn.
“If I were to take this poker and carve my name into your bones, branding you
like some horse no one would care and no one would know. Just like all this
time up until this moment. You, child, have no one.” Gaster told Sans with a
bitter expression. “Everyone who tried to save you, you rejected. I offered you
joy, pleasure, bliss. I offered you a life of luxury and royalty at only the
price of love and you rejected it. If Papyrus truly loved you why is he not
here?” Gaster set the poker back down on Sans' femur and dragged it down to his
patella. Sans jerked away, only making matters worse as he frantically tried to
escape the burning metal. “If your mother was so gifted, strong, and wise why
did she give up and die?” Gaster rested the poker on Sans' other leg and
pressed down. Sans vision whited out, unable to even breathe as he felt the
poker permanently mark his bone.
“I'm growing tired of your thick skull,” Gaster grumbled removing the poker.
Sans could hardly even hear his words, struggling to even breathe as the
charred bone screamed out in agony. “I'll stomp out that attitude of yours yet,
there is still a full night in front of us.”
Overall, the past three days had left Sans numb and completely exhausted. He
never imagined he could feel such pain through his body alone. Not even the
torment of his soul had ached so much. It was never ending. Sans knew it had to
be. Gaster wanted him broken and defeated. It left no room for breaks or
recovery.
So Sans was shocked when he woke to find himself alone. He had no roped tied to
him nor cloth in his mouth. Sans was still completely unable to move or speak.
His voice was nothing more than a cracked echo while his body felt completely
shattered. He had seen no one over the past few days that could have helped
him. No maid to clean him or his bed, no doctor to heal his wounds. Just Gaster
and his men. But now waking up alone Sans felt very uneasy. He wasn't sure how
he felt about it, to be honest. Was this another form of punishment? Isolation?
Was that so bad? True Sans could not bathe and that did disgust him but it was
hardly something worth panicking over. Would he be without food as well? Gaster
could not acquire his soul by isolation and starvation alone. That would just
make him weak and clingy but not broken.
The door opened and Gaster entered. Sans didn't so much as move, staring up at
his father with dead eyes. Gaster looked him over and scoffed.
“Well now, aren't you a sorry sight,” he noted. “A good wash really does
improve the looks,” he said, stepping over to Sans. “Tell me, Sans, how do you
feel?” Sans only stared and Gaster frowned. “Well, whatever you feel must not
be painful enough. Seems yesterday's events will have to be modified. Perhaps I
should have kept going through the morning. Oh well, notes for future use.”
Gaster leaned back, stepping over the discarded items thrown about the room.
“I came to inform you of your new schedule,” Gaster announced, staring out the
window. He dragged his finger across the stone wall and noted the dust that had
collected. He brushed it off his finger before he glanced back at his child.
“After all, you won't be needing your old one,” Gaster said, side eyeing Sans.
“From now on you will receive two visitors on a daily basis. One being me and
two being a maid. This maid will deliver your meals, bathe you, and clean the
room. On some days, I'll enter with a doctor. He'll come in and ensure you
aren't dying and leave. Other days you may receive a surprise visitor or
visitors that you have already gotten well aquatinted too. But every day you
will see me and you will see this maid without fail.” Gaster went over to Sans
and sat down on the bed. “I want you to know that everyone who visits you is
personally hired by me. They are my staff and listen to me. They know what I do
and they know to keep their mouths shut. They also know to tell me if you say
anything to them. If you ask for help, I'll know. If you scream, I'll be
informed. And if you fight and resist, I have ordered them to restrain you.”
Gaster listed off and Sans laid, numb and staring coldly.
“Now, here is the fun part. No matter what happened, I'm still going to force
the soul bond. However, I may delay it depending on the actions of your
brother.” Sans' eye twitched and Gaster smirked. “Oh yes, your brother plays a
wonderful role in this. You see, I know you love him and trust him. I want to
see if he feels the same, truly and honestly. Because I have a feeling he may
not and wouldn't that just crush you?” The king met his son's icy gaze before
he clapped his hands together. “So, the staff and our little prince are all
aware you are so very ill. I promised Papyrus if he chooses a bride and vows to
marry said bride, he may come and see you.”
Sans's fingers curled around the sheets below.
“The thing is, I won't be stopping my activities with you. This is a speed
challenge. The longer your brother takes the higher chance he has of seeing you
bonded. I assume if he truly cared he'd pick a bride right away. You are ill
after all, any loving sibling would die to be by their sick sibling's side,
right? And if he comes soon I will gladly even play along, doll you up nice and
pretty.” Gaster patted Sans' cheek a bit too roughly and the skeleton sneered.
“But, if he comes late, well, I suppose how well you act all depends on you,”
Gaster said. “I don't think you'll be up for very much after I've had my fun
but that's just me. You seem rather hollow at the moment but you've proven to
be quite the little actor in the past.” Gasper pinched Sans and got up. “So,
that's the plan, Sans. I wished to make this time together more eventful and
challenging. For some physical punishment can only go so far. You can get used
to torture. It has seemed to only make you more resistant. So instead of
beating submission into you, I plan to simply show you what I have always tried
to tell you. I want you to see how much your brother doesn't love you. I want
you to see how weak your mother really was in these moments. I want you to see
how above all else, the only one who was ever fully by your side was me. Yes, I
may have had to hurt you, but my love and soul were always in the right place.”
Sans mouth twitched wanting to spit out an insult but he couldn't muster the
strength.
“But for now, we must continue with our day. A maid will enter and bathe you
and change the sheets. Then, you and I will enjoy breakfast together.” Gaster
went over to the door and opened it up. Sans couldn't see the maid that entered
but he didn't need to. They were all the same to him.
She entered with a large bucket of water and began filling the bath in the
bathroom. Sans laid and waited, having nothing else to do. Gaster sat at the
table, preoccupying himself as the maid removed the sheets and got Sans into
the bath. As Sans soaked she changed the sheets and redressed the bed before
returning to Sans. The skeleton kept his gaze to the floor and only looked up
when the maid raised his face to wash it. Sans stared at the servant woman who
washed him. She appeared old though no elderly, the kind of old that had
experience but not yet wisdom. Her hair was hidden behind her bandana along
with most of her body. Her arms and face were free, sleeves bunched up so not
to get wet. She was a silky monster. Sans could only describe her form as silky
but not like cloth. It was as if her body was pure velvet and softness almost
not feeling solid despite her obviously solid form. It was almost black in
color, her eyes a bright white. She reminded Sans of a shadow and he wondered
if that was why she seemed familiar or not. Sans rarely paid attention to any
servants but now he felt oddly compelled to at least remember this one. If she
was personally Gaster's, she was a maid he had to watch out for. Still, that
offered little for the familiarity.
The maid met his gaze and he tensed and pulled away.
“Don't meet my gaze, maid.” He grumbled and the woman continued to stare. She
raised her hand and placed a finger to her lips and Sans was confused by the
gesture. She said and did nothing more, going back to washing.
Sans was left perplexed even as he was dried and clothed. He watched the maid
carefully and she offered no other odd gesture. Perhaps it was a test of faith
as Gaster had hinted at. All signs of attempted communication would be
delivered to Gaster after all.
After his bath, Sans was then sat down next to Gaster and a meal was given to
them both. Sans stared down at it not wanting to eat but he had a feeling
starving himself wouldn't end well. Sans poked at the meat before he cut a bite
and ate it. Despite the delicious flavor, Sans still felt sick forcing it down.
Moving his jaw hurt and he barely had enough strength to hold his fork and
knife steady let alone cut. He took a few more bites of the whole meal before
he stopped. He felt queasy and ill, the upright position putting force on his
damaged spine and ribs which begged to be rested.
“Eat,” Gaster ordered and Sans frowned.
“I'm not very hungry, Father,” Sans forced out, hardly audible.
 “Eat it or I'll have the guards shove it down your throat.” Sans shivered but
obeyed, taking it slow in fear he'd vomit. Sans managed to get through half the
meal before he gagged and Gaster allowed him to stop.
“You always had the appetite of a child,” Gaster mumbled. “Perhaps liquids
would be better?” He wondered aloud.
“For meals?” Sans asked, unsure what his father was talking about.
“Hm? Oh no, for you new medication.” Sans frown deepened.
“What medication?”
“Yes, it was in your food.” Sans tensed, pupils, shooting down to the food he
shoved away. He inhaled sharply as his bones protested against the harsh
movement. He hunched over and Gaster scoffed. “Don't be so dramatic, you
already ate it. If it was poison you'd feel it.” Gaster rolled his eyes but
that did not aid Sans' panic.
“What medication? What did you put in my food?” He demanded and Gaster's
sockets narrowed.
“Don't shout,” Gaster warned, slamming his knife into the table. There came a
soft knock on the door before it opened. A familiar doctor entered, one Sans
often saw during his 'sick days'. “Ah, wonderful timing.” Gaster smiled before
nodding to Sans. “Do what you need.” Sans backed away and Gaster glared and
grabbed his arm. He yelped, cowering under the firm grasp. “Hold still, Sans.
The doctor needs to have a look at you.”
“Why? What did you do?” Sans panicked, struggling against the hold and Gaster
tightened it, growling. Sans teeth ground against each other knowing if he
screamed out it would be the death of him.
“Hold still or I'll have a guard hold you still.” Sans held his breath as the
doctor came at him and stood. He was rough like usual, moving Sans how he
wished without too much care of Sans' comfort. He hardly seemed phased by Sans'
appearance and the skeleton wondered if the bath had improved how he looked
somehow. Every inch of him was practically purple and his body had more
lacerations than bones. Sans knew any normal doctor would be horrified but he
wondered how normal this one was.
“Can I see his soul?” The doctor asked Gaster as if it were his. Gaster nodded
despite Sans whimper and the doctor summoned the soul and examined it.
“Anything?” Gaster asked.
 “No, it's as I said your highness, it's a slow going process. Despite the
different in the soul's stats, it will still take a few dosages.” Gaster
frowned but nodded.
“Increasing it would not be wise?”
“Not with the health condition no.” The doctor said and Sans sat watching them.
“Very well, thank you, doctor,” Gaster said and the doctor nodded and left.
“See? Healthy. You made a big fuss out of nothing.”
“What did I ingest?” Sans practically begged.
“I'm tired of your stubborn nature, child. So I decided to help myself and seek
medical advice. What was given to you is just a little magical boost, if you
will. It'll help speed this process along,” Gaster said. “Or at least
hopefully, it did very little with your mother but since you are weaker and
younger I have hope you'll be more fruitful.” Gaster let out a soft laugh and
Sans wasn't sure why. Gaster glanced back at Sans and found him still confused
and sighed, rolling his eyes. “You know what a soul bond allows Sans? Between
two monsters?” Sans thought it over for a moment, unsure what Gaster could
mean.
“A connection...”
“Yes, but something else.”
Something else? A soul bond offered a connection, a bond. It offered two
monsters the ability to feel one another and communicate without words. It
allowed their love to grow and flourish, advancing to the next stage of their
bond. It allowed a-
“A child?!” Sans gasped, feeling his soul clench at the very thought. Sans
didn't want a child. He didn't want Gaster's child! Sans wasn't even sure he
could handle children. He could end up sickly like his mother! He knew he
would. The idea of Gaster's spawn growing inside of him already made him feel
death's hand on his shoulder.
“Fertility,” Gaster corrected. “But yes, it allows a child. Not that I desire
one, but if one were to come so be it. What matters is the fertility of a
monster. The more fertile they are, the higher chance their body is as forming
a bond. A need to reproduce, if you will. It's why bonds commonly form before a
pregnancy. Usually, the bond happens when both parties agree to have a child
but it's not always the case. Your mother, for example, took quite some time
before she had you. Though whether that was due to her soul or her horrible
fertility I'm unsure. But that hardly matters. I gave a similar medication to
your mother but she gave up before it could truly take effect. I've started you
on it earlier, hoping to, again, speed this up.”
Sans shivered, trembling hands clutching his middle repulsed at the idea of it
being filled.
“I-I don't want a child,” Sans whimpered and Gaster cooed, patting his head
gently.
“Your mother said the same thing.” He smiled. “But she gave me what I wanted.
And if it takes a child to get your soul then so be it. Perhaps you'll grow to
love it as your mother had. I can't be with you always, so perhaps a few
children will help keep you company.”
Sans was breathing heavily, panicking over the thoughts that overwhelmed him.
They flooded his mind, picturing himself exactly where his mother was. Jaded,
miserable, and bitter at the world. Forced to care for a child she hated. A
child of rape, a child of the king who she hated more than anything. Sans
pictured his own child, imagining it exactly as Gaster. Tears sprung up and he
felt a hand cover his mouth as another guided his eyes up to meet the kings.
“Take a deep breathe, child. I know you are a little overwhelmed at the moment,
but screaming will help no one.” Sans panted heavily behind the hand, body
still as his pinprick pupils locked onto Gaster's stone cold expression.
“This'll be hard few weeks for us, Sans, but I promise you, once we've bonded
you'll see the light. You'll know your place and that's all that matters. Until
then, we'll both just have to endure one another and accept what is fact.”
Gaster leaned closer, inches away from Sans' face. “So you better calm down.”
With a pause, he removed his hand but Sans remained in the same stiff pose.
“You can prevent this all from happening,” Gaster reminded Sans. “I know you
think you have no control but you truly do,” Gaster noted, leaning back in his
chair. “All I need is your soul and all of this will be done. No medicine, no
pain, no fear. We can all be so much happier.”
For a split second Sans actually tried to force his soul to summon. His hands
curled around the arms of his chair, willing if not begging his soul to form to
stop the medicine and potential child. But it refused.
“It won't summon,” Sans said voice thick with tears. “I-I'm trying. I want it
to I do it just-” the king placed a finger over Sans' mouth.
“I know, princess, I do.” He cooed before he offered a smile. “But until it's
mine how am I to know you're telling the truth?” Sans whimpered and Gaster
tutted. “Let's see if the guards can help convince it to come out.”
 
                                      ~*~
 
Sans never thought himself to be a monster of strong will. Ever since Gaster
first smacked him, Sans came to the acceptance that he was weak. He'd bow down
to anyone above him, knowing his place. Sans was always aware of where he stood
with others. If he was above them, he'd let it be known. However, if he was
below them, then they dominated. The few exceptions to this mindset were the
council and Papyrus. The council was above Gaster making Sans in a predicament
when they disagreed. He'd often try to negotiate with one side but neither
would budge. It would frequently result in Gaster upset with Sans' incapable
skills. But, because of their ranks, Sans couldn't willingly accept Gaster's
word despite his own job.
The other exception was Papyrus. Papyrus wasn't like the council. Sans at least
had to talk to the council about lies he told Papyrus. Sans had no choice but
to confess and lie his little head off in order to save his bones. With
Papyrus, Sans often found himself saying truths without fear of their actions.
Of course, even with Papyrus Sans knew his place. Never had divulging
information been given, perhaps he had said a few things here or there but
nothing that would risk Sans' position as advisor. He'd simply humor himself
and his brother, maybe criticizing his father's actions in a way he'd dare act
in front of any other eyes.
The big different between the two was that Sans bowed to the council and Sans
refused to bow to Papyrus. Though Papyrus was technically above him in status,
Sans' duty to the king had them at equal levels. Sans was perhaps even above
his brother in some areas but despite that neither used their skills against
one another. At least, they hadn't in the past. Sans would often just remind
his brother of their standings in an attempt to avoid conversations. But after
their argument over the marriage, it was very clear that Sans was no longer an
equal. Papyrus saw him as a danger, to what Sans didn't know. Sans tried to
overpower his brother but it didn't work. Papyrus saw through Sans and his
status. He did not fear the king or the secret looming power Sans had. It made
Sans completely defenseless and open. Without the threat of Gaster, Sans was
nothing but Papyrus was still everything. He was still the prince, the future
king, backed by the love of the guards and even the people. They awaited his
time of the throne, finished with the old king. Now Papyrus had everything and
Sans feared what he'd do with that power. He feared what he himself would do
without it. And he feared how he'd suffer because of his brother's mistakes.
“I was informed three guards entered here not even an hour ago! Clearly, my
brother is well enough to be visited by anyone. I demand entrance!” Papyrus
declared, voice heard clearly even through the heavy door.
“Only those permitted by the king may enter,” The guard replied. “The princess
is too ill to be visited by unauthorized members.”
“He can be visited by guards and not family? They carry more of a risk than I!”
“King's orders, it's for his safety. Please speak to the king for entrance.”
“He's so noisy,” Gaster scowled, fingers tracing along the weakly pulsating and
bruised soul in his hands. Day five had been Gaster's day to try to manipulate
Sans' soul in a literal way. The pure anguish Sans felt was not something he'd
forgot. It proved to be the most effective way to ensure Sans' obedience in the
past but still, the soul refused. As long as Sans had will, the soul would not
give up.
Sans twitched, wheezing as his body tensed involuntarily, jolts of pain
shooting from almost every bone he had. He was barely aware of himself, having
no control over his body that twitched and jerked with the waved of pain. He
could barely open his sockets, a thin trail of drool sliding down his face,
unable to even attempt to swallow it.
“Sans!” Papyrus shouted and Gaster grunted.
“He'll stand out there and scream but he won't choose a bride? What does that
say, Sans?” Gaster asked, glancing at his abused child. “Does he think he can
get me to crack? Change my mind? I gave him a perfectly agreeable situation but
he refused. He refuses to see you, to help you. How does that make you feel
Sans? Papyrus refuses to visit or help you.” Gaster waited a moment for Sans to
reply but he didn't. His mouth pressed into a firm line as he dug his thumb
into the soul. Sans inhaled sharply, burying his face into the pillow below as
he shrieked.
“Answer me. How does knowing your brother abandoned you make you feel?” Gaster
demanded, yanking Sans' head up and the skeleton trembled, sockets tightly
shut.
“Alone!” Sans forced out and Gaster dropped him.
“You are because you chose the wrong one to trust,” Gaster replied going back
to stroking the soul. “And because of your actions, you must suffer. You must
feel this pain because of him. Because of yourself.” Gaster sighed longingly,
petting Sans' soul. He brought it to his mouth and licked it gently. Sans
shivered, even his softest actions were nothing but misery for him. “But again
I am here, ready to love and save you where he had failed you. I only ask for
you love in return.” Gaster kissed the soul before he looked over his child's
empty face. Gaster huffed and let go of Sans' soul. It returned to it's home
behind his ribs and Sans felt his body relax knowing it was safe. He mustered
up the courage to open his sockets and stare after Gaster who went over to the
door. Sans tensed, terrified of what he'd do. Should Papyrus see him now their
relationship would be ruined. Sans was paralyzed, not even breathing as Gaster
opened the door just enough to slip out. Sans remained on edge fearful of the
idea that only a few inches of wood kept their bond as brother's alive.
“Have you come to discuss your bride?” Gaster asked.
“I gave you my choice,” Papyrus replied sharply.
“No, I believe you offered me a joke of some kind. I must say you are rather
poor at them. Please do come back once you've picked a bride from the list.
This yelling is disturbing your brother's sleep.”
“I want to see him.”
“And you can, once you've picked a bride. It's been days, Papyrus, if you were
really worried about him you'd care enough to sort out this situation. Sans
isn't doing so well.”
“What?!” Papyrus asked voice laced with panic.
“The doctor is doing all he can, but well, no one can say. Your mother was a
frail monster and Sans adopted that horrid part of her. She passed away so
suddenly, I only hope Sans can pull through.” Gaster lied, faking remorse and
sorrow.
“Has he fallen down?! How ill is he?!”
“He's alive, dear child. But for how long, well, no one can know. He's a strong
monster. I only hope his weak body won't give out.”
“Father please, if he's ill I beg of you to allow me entrance! This is no
longer a matter of royal business but of family. You cannot deny me the right
to see him before he passes!” Papyrus all but pleaded.
“Dear boy, I will not. If the situation does turn grim I will allow you to see
him. However, until then, do consider a bride. Time is being wasted.”
“Can I at least talk to him through the door?”
“I'm afraid not, Papyrus. Sans is rather overwhelmed at the moment. He has
always been emotional. These moments of sickness never help and only enhance
it. He misses you dearly but he is aware of our agreement. It seems to be
troubling him greatly.” Sans stared at the door, fingers twitching as the
curled up in the blankets.
“Then put it on hold. If it is worsening his illness then-”
“Oh, Papyrus, not the agreement. Your actions,” Gaster said sounding
disappointed. “He spoke with you, right? Tried to get you to choose a bride and
understand the severity of the situation? Your juvenile behavior has made him
extremely depressed. It just exemplifies how little you care for him in my
opinion.”
“That is not true. He knows that!” Papyrus shot back, voice hard.
“Does he?” Gaster wondered out loud and Sans was shocked Papyrus did not reply.
“You are hurting us all with your stubbornness, Papyrus. The council cannot
move forward, I cannot do my job, nor can Sans rest easy until you choose a
bride. You instead create some grandiose scam or whatever and speak to the
council for reasons you refuse to share. All your actions continue to hurt this
family and all the hard work generations have put forth. Your brother is
devastated at the impact that will have on him. Your outbursts have always
lessened his standings with the council, continuing to prove only how
incompetent he is. I chose Sans as my advisor because I know he is gifted and
truly a remarkable child. Yet how am I to prove that to the world when you do
nothing but continue to demean him by ruining the effort and work he put into
making you the great king you are supposed to be?” Gaster sighed heavily and
Sans could picture his mask of defeat and hurt. The guilt he'd force out to get
Papyrus to believe he had caused so much damage.
But it was truly all Sans.
“So, I'll ask again, my son,” Gaster started, “for the sake of me and your
brother, do you have a bride picked out?”
Silence filled the air. Sans held his ragged breath, listening for even the
scuffling of feet.
“I'll have a bride in a week.”
“You've already had five days. You now have two to give me an answer.” There
was another long pause.
“Two days.” Papyrus agreed. “Two days. I'll have a bride and you'll have my
complete and total acceptance and written agreement of marriage.”
“Deal.”
“Can I see Sans now?”
“You may, in two days when I and the council know your choice,” Gaster replied
before he reentered the room, a grin on his face. Sans stared at him, knowing
his expression gave away the complete devastation he felt.
It hurt to hear the rejection. It hurt to know the truth he lied to himself
about. He knew it was a phase. Sans knew their love was nothing but hearing
Papyrus toss it aside so easily stung worse than Sans could have imagined. His
soul felt heavy, tears forming as his urge to cry rose.
“I do hate having to prove myself correct this way.” Gaster sighed, stepping
over to Sans. “You look so defeated, did you really think he cared? That he
loved you?” Sans looked away.
He had. He truly did. He loved Papyrus and in a perfect world that love would
be returned and expressed for all to see. But Sans did not live in a world of
perfection. He lived in a burning hell. He brought this on himself. He latched
onto his brother so desperately. He refused to accept what everyone told him.
He refused to accept his fate clinging to the juvenile ideals of love. Of
course, Papyrus would choose a bride. Of course, he'd give up on fighting for
Sans. What they shared wasn't real. It wasn't their path to take. Sans knew
this, yet it still hurt to accept.
Gaster frowned, finishing the distance between them and reaching out to snatch
Sans' arm and yank him over.
“I'm becoming quite tiresome of your lack of responses, child. Perhaps your
souls isn't as beaten as you make it out to seem.” Sans couldn't help the
whimper that escaped him.
“N—No!” Gaster covered his mouth and Sans felt tears rise up. He was
overwhelmed, crushed, heartbroken, and now afraid. He wanted time to lament and
cry over his unrequited love but was given not even a second. The wound was
still too fresh, so easy to manipulate and abuse. Sans knew this but didn't
care. He didn't care about anything. He just wanted to rest. To cry, to sleep,
to scream, to rest. He didn't understand how but Papyrus' words hurt more than
any damage Gaster had done to him.
“Clearly you learned nothing from these past few days. And here I thought we
made such progress. It would appear we still need to break a few more stubborn
parts.” Gaster smiled sadly down at his son, leaning forward to kiss his skull
gently. “Remember Sans, you're only doing this to yourself,” Gaster replied
pulling away. “I mean, even now after hearing Papyrus admit he has given up,
you still remain so determined. I'd admire it if it wasn't so foolish.” Gaster
sighed.
Sans was just doing this to himself. Why was he resisting? Why was he still
holding on? Was it because of Papyrus this whole time? Did he truly believe
he'd come in and rescue his princess as if they were some story? Their life
wasn't fiction.
Sans was weak. He felt vulnerable and exposed. The rejection had him feeling
unworthy, alone, and abandoned. He needed something, stability. He needed a
force to rely on, an anchor to weigh him down. Sans was nothing, he knew he
was. He depended on the security of others to be half the monster he was but
not all his ties were being cut. He was terrified of being alone, of being
nothing.
“P-Ple-Please-” Sans begged one last time, trying to get a second to clear his
mind.
 “Don't speak unless spoken to,” Gaster ordered and Sans silenced himself. “You
are just so pitiful, Sans. You are an ill-trained dog. You act like you have no
master until I remind you of your place. I shouldn't have to remind you, child.
You should know. And you will, in time. You'll know how to act and what to do
and say. And you'll want to. If for no other reason than because I have proven
time and time again, that I am all you can trust and love. Your mother lied and
hurt you. She led you to where you are now, filling your skull with venomous
lies. She led you to believe you could beat me, but you can't. She didn't. You
took advice from a dead monster. Who is more foolish, hm? And now Papyrus has
given up. All that stubborn talk of marrying you thrown out the window. He lied
to you, abandoned you, left you. And he will only continue to fade farther and
farther away. But who has always been there, Sans? Who has always been by your
side?”
Gaster was so close, touching Sans. The skeleton felt his fingers curl around
his king's shirt, tears spilling as he latched onto the only stability he had.
Gaster proved to be there when all other's weren't. Between the fights and
abuse, there was love. Moments where Gaster would cuddle Sand and hold him
close. When the kisses were passionate and the sex was pleasurable. Gaster
truly cared but Sans had just been so disobedient. He has rejected him,
refusing to see that all he ever needed was right before him.
“Y-You,” Sans whispered surprising Gaster. Sans clutched the soft fabric of his
shirt, tears spilling down his cheeks.
“Yes,” the king purred, his own hands resting over Sans'. “Me. Your king,
princess. I have always been here for you. I have always loved you. I have
always tried my best to please you. But much like any disloyal subject, if you
disobey I have to punish you. I don't enjoy it. But it must be done. For if
there is no punishment anarchy will take over everything. Fear is a needed
force. Fear is reliable. Where had love led you, Sans? Where is everyone who
you have every loved?”
They were gone. His mother was dead, killed because she refused to accept
Gaster. Had she obeyed, Gaster would have shown her mercy. Had she been a
proper bride, Gaster would have loved her. Instead, she was bitter and mentally
unsound. She poisoned her elder child, feeding Sans lie after lie. Sans then
fed those lies to his brother, latching onto him. They were raised together,
and spend hours just enjoying each other's company. The constant presence
forced a love that wasn't real. Papyrus only proved that. Separated now he had
given up on their love. He had left Sans and would only continue to fade
farther and farther away.
“Gone,” Sans whimpered, bowing his head. His soul hurt, it felt as if it was
breaking. He needed love, affection, praise. He needed someone and Gaster was
there, always there.
“Gone,” Gaster repeated, pulling Sans into a hug and kissing his skull. “But
those who loved you? Those who truly loved you?” Sans quivered, failing to
suppress a sob as he buried his face in Gaster's chest.
Stability. Love. It was all right here. In his weakest and most vulnerable
moments, Gaster was always there to care for him. Even now after all Sans had
done, he still remained.
“Right here.”
“Exactly.” Gaster soothed, running a hand down Sans' spine. He curled it around
his ribs, and up his sternum, resting over Sans' soul. He watched it with a
hungry gaze, watching it beat weakly. It cried out for love, seeking anything
willing to display even the slightest bit of affection. “I'll never harm you as
they had. You'll never be abandoned by me, my princess. And you'll know it too.
You'll be able to feel my love and devotion. Our connection will be the one of
envy.”
Sans shut his eyes, bones rattling as he struggled to take in one steady
breath. His soul felt so weak, exhausted from the torments of these past days.
He was so weak. Why did he even bother resisting? He may never love Gaster. He
may never care about anything. But that didn't matter. What Sans wanted was
pointless. He had never cared about his desired before, why now? What was his
soul to him? A useless lump within him. Apart waiting to be dominated like
everything else. He was rejecting all he'd ever need. Gaster loved him. Gaster
wanted to save him. Gaster wanted to help him.
Sans could just stop this all and spare himself. He was unwanted, unloved,
undesired by all those he loved. All but Gaster.
Sans stared up at his father, soul glowing faintly as it searched out for
another, willing to accept any and all nearby.
“Sir.” Sans snapped out of his dark thoughts, his souls' light fading as he was
distracted from his misery. Gaster growled, tightening his grip as he faced the
door, furious with the guard who disturbed his awaited reward.
“What?!” He barked at the guard who visibly began to sweat.
“The maid. She came saying she has information.”
“What information?”
“She could not say.”
“Send her in then!” Gaster snapped and the guard bowed before allowing the maid
to enter. She looked at Sans for but a moment before staring at Gaster.
“Papyrus has scheduled another meeting with the council.”
“He did what?” Gaster seethed, throwing Sans aside. Sans whimpered, reaching
out but Gaster ignored him. “When? For what purpose?”
“No one knows.”
“The snake!” Gaster cursed marching to the door. “Bathe him,” Gaster ordered
the maid. “And ensure the doctor medicates him and that he eats.” With that, he
left and the maid waited for the footsteps to vanish before she quickly went
over to Sans, looking distraught.
“What did he do?” She muttered and Sans wasn't sure if she was expecting a
response. He didn't feel like giving one. He only curled up, pressing the
pillow against his chest. “Child, answer me.”
“Don't order me, maid. I'm royalty,” Sans mumbled and the maid glared.
“You are not royalty.” She spat back and Sans faced her.
“Who are you to speak to me that way, servant?” Sans snapped. “You are here to
clean and that is all!” Sans didn't know who this maid thought she was but he
was far from in the right mood to deal with her sharp tongue. “Speak to me like
that again and I'll call a guard.” The maid stood up, large white eyes boring
into his small red pupils.
“And when they enter I'll tell them all about how you begged me to help you
escape. How would that fair with the king?” Sans shrunk in on himself, face hot
with shame. The very threat had all his fire extinguished instantly. “This is
why I do not call you royalty. You are sheep just as the servants you sneer at.
You have given up. You have allowed him to best you.” 
“You don't know anything,” Sans spoke into the pillow. He hadn't allowed Gaster
to best him. He had accepted his fate. He had only given up on fighting what
should have been accepted long ago.
“Have you no honor? No drive? No purpose.”
“I'm serving my purpose!” Sans snapped. “A whore to the king!” The maid took a
step back, horrified by the outburst. “And you seem to be forgetting your
purpose and duty. Guard-” The maid leaped forward, covering Sans' mouth. Sans
struggled, trying to push her off but the maid overpowered him easily. She
pressed him down into the bed below, her soft body feeling like lead. Sans was
immobilized, sockets wide with terror. Just who was this maid? Never had she so
much as glanced at Sans after the first odd encounter. Yet now she enters and
she is caring? It had to be some trick. She worked for Gaster. Perhaps a final
test of faithfulness? If so this was one hell of a convincing one on the maid's
part.
“You scream and you are guaranteed death,” She whispered to his skull, so close
Sans could feel her breath against his skull. He stilled, panting behind the
hand. “Arial,” The maid said and Sans flinched. He locked his gaze with her and
the maid offered nothing but a stone face. “Be silent,” She told him, removing
her hand.
“Why did you say my mother's name?” Sans demanded the moment the hand was
removed.
“Because it would get you to calm down.” The maid replied, beginning to undress
the pillows.
“Who are you?” Sans questioned.
“I'm a maid.”
“No maid is dumb enough to say that name.” No one was foolish enough to utter
it. It was a name lost in time. Sans himself couldn't recall the last time he
spoke it.
“Then I am a dumb maid.” The maid simply replied. Sans grabbed her dress
stopping her from leaving with the pillows. 
“You are not a dumb maid,” He stated, seeing her lies.
“No, but you are a foolish princess.” The maid faced him and brushed his hand
off. “We must talk and work. Can you walk?”
She helped Sans rise to his feet, leading him to the bath. She set him in and
readied the washrag and needed scents and soaps. Sans waited patiently,
watching her every movement.
“Are you a spy?” He asked first once she rolled up her sleeves.
“No,” the maid replied dunking the rag into the water she paused mid-wring
though thinking over her response. “Well, I suppose I am not to this kingdom.”
“What does that mean?” Sans pressed.
“It means I am not a spy,” she said. “I'm a maid, that is the truth.”
 “Then a traitor?”
“That depends on who's asking.”
“So you are.”
“No. I am not.”
“You're lying.”
“You'd be one to detect that, wouldn't you?” She replied sharply. Sans looked
offended and the maid seemed snug. “I'm just the queens' maid. I serve the
queens.” She finally answered but it offered little.
“I'm no queen.” Sans corrected.
“No, but I am ordered by the king and he told me to look after you.” The maid
took hold of Sans' arm and began to wash him.
“So you served all previous queens?”
“Twelve of them, yes.” Sans frowned, she did not seem that old.
“Including-”
“Yes, your mother.” Sans went silent, allowing himself to be washed.
“She hated maids.” He eventually said softly.
“She did.” The maid agreed.
“She hated you.”
“No. She hated the gossiping, disloyal, untrustworthy maids of the palace.
Those fearful of the king and spreading anything they heard.”
“You work for the king, what does that make you?” Her hand tightened on Sans'
arm, gaze ice cold.
“What does it make your brother? Does a relation to the king automatically make
you loyal to him?” Sans' fist clenched in the arm she held, expression hard.
“So you are a traitor.”
“I doubt I'd be in this position if I was.”
“I don't understand.” The maid sighed heavily, looking up at Sans with a tired
expression.
“You don't understand a lot of things.” Sans yanked his arm free, scowling at
the maid. How dare she! Sans knew more than anyone in this castle. It was his
job to know all secrets. It was his job to know everything. And she had the
nerve the tell him else?
“I understand more than you!” He barked but the maid just lets out a huff of a
laugh as she took back his arm.
“No, you don't.”
“Oh, as if some maid understand as much as a royal advisor!”
“Your title means nothing. How ignorant is the king after all? You are blinder
than ever. Fear has made you this way.”
“Fear speaks the truth. It is reliable.” Sans snapped and the maid frowned.
“No, you know what fear gives you? What you want to hear. Not what you need to
know.” The maid yanked Sans forward, pinning his arms to the tub. Sans gasped,
stifling a yelp as she roughly handled his limbs. “Like how if you don't start
begging I'm informing Gaster you tried to get me to help you by sending a
secret message to Papyrus.” Sans recoiled, tear in his eyes.
“Don't! Please don't-” The maid released him and he fell back against the tub
trembling. She looked him over before her frown deepened.
“You just proved my point.” The maid said. “He is controlling you with fear. It
is blinding you and ruling you.”
Who was this maid to treat him this way? She was supposed to be silent and
obeying like all others! What gave her the right to threaten him? To hurt him?
To speak to him in such a manner? Gaster's maid be damned, Sans was tired of
this mouthy bitch! 
“You know what he does to me. You expect that to not work? You think the abuse
will not start controlling me?!” He barked, beginning to turn red with anger.
“I know it will.” The maid said. “Which is why I'm talking to you right now, to
tell you to stop listening to him.”
“I can't just stop!” Sans shouted starting even himself. “He forces it into my
head. He beats it into me. His words are the truth. If I listen I can stop
everything!”
“No, you just put it off to another day. Your mother gave up but you saw what
it did to her. Did she give in? Did she become the doll the king wanted? No.
And neither will you.”
“I am not my mother,” Sans laughed bitterly. “I have never been. I am weak. I
am pathetic. I am nothing. I will be exactly what he wants me to be because I
am nothing but a doll. A moldable figure he can control and dominate whenever
he wants. I've always been that way. That's the only way there is!”
 “No there isn't.” The maid challenged and Sans glared, eyes glowing with magic
he hadn't used in ages.
“You don't know,” Sans said, voice bitter and cold. “You don't know anything.
You are a maid. You haven't endured his punishments. You haven't endured
anything from him. You think you are all powerful because you serve past
queens? You just served gloried birth givers! Who do you think you are coming
in and telling me I'm a fool for giving up. That there is hope and that I have
some sort of alternative path. I don't! I've known my path since I accepted
this role. I've known everyone's path. Gaster will retire and reside in the
west wing with all other royal residents, perhaps given a place at the council.
Papyrus will marry and take the throne. He will make this kingdom flourish and
have many children with his bride. And I will smile as for then my job will be
done. Papyrus is king and Gaster is no longer in power. I will retire with him
as all advisors. Loving, devoted, and his perfect object till the day he dies.
And when he dies, I will them go to the archives and become a monster of
knowledge and study and learn until I die or become a member of the council
then die. That is it. That is our future. My future. And that is all it will
ever be!”
“Your brother sees a different future.” Sans arms shook at the mention of his
traitor of a brother.
“My brother had never accepted his future. But he has no choice. He admitted
he'd choose a bride. He has accepted as he must. He sees no other future. He
knows there is only one.”
“Your brother is wiser than you think.” The maid said and Sans' sockets
narrowed.
“Oh? And what makes you say that? Does he have some grand plan? Some master
scheme under his belt? Some top secret plan that'll be even half as successful
as the one those above him have already planned and decided?”
The maid blinked, expression blank and empty.
“I can't tell you.” Is all she said and Sans laughed bitterly.
“How fitting.”
“He wants me to.” The maid said, picking up the rag that had fallen into the
tub. “He wanted me to tell you from the start. But I won't because you can't be
trusted.”
“I can't be trusted?!” Sans accused. “Says the traitorous maid taking order
from a treasonous prince!”
“You only continue to prove my point. You'll risk everything.”
“No, I know what your game is, maid.” Sans sneered, slapping the rag away from
her. “You work for the king. You are a maid to the king. You may serve the
queen but he controls you. You answer to him, I've watched you. You are trying
to get me in trouble. You are trying to ruin my reputation with him even more.
You want me to ask for help? To believe your lies? To actually think Papyrus
has some grand plan? Never. I'm not a fool. I know his true plan. I know Gaster
set you up. He sends you in trying to get you to lead me to some false hope. To
prove I am against him and disloyal but I am not! I know there is no other path
but him. Papyrus isn't coming. There is no secret plan. No escaping. No running
away. My mother was a fool for thinking she could escape. There is no escape! I
won't go against my king like she and my brother had. My soul is his!” Sans
shouted and the maid watched him.
“You're wrong,” she argued softly but sounded so certain.
“Oh? I wonder who will think so? Gaster may trust you but only because I was
too stubborn. I've already lost. I'm done. I've accepted my fate and he knows
it. I wonder who he'll believe now, the word of a maid or the word and soul of
his princess?” The maid stared at Sans with a blank expression. She shut her
eye and exhaled before she reopened her eyes to look back at the skeleton.
“He'll be pleased to hear that response.” The maid replied with the same
emotionless face. “I hope your words are true. He'll be testing them.” She
replied coldly, wringing out the rag before she gave one last blank but cold
look to Sans and then continued to wash him in silence.
 
                                      ~*~
 
 
“Your brother is so troublesome.” Gaster sighed, petting Sans' skull. Sans
trembled below him, breaths coming out uneven and strained. Three members of
Gaster's guards had entered when the maid left. Gaster had not ordered them to
do so, to Sans' knowledge. He assumed so by the piles of dust he laid upon.
Gaster had walked in with one guard shoving his spiked cock inside of his
princess' entrance, another in his right socket, and the last in his mouth. The
one in his mouth held Sans' soul between his teeth, clamped down on it. Sans
was screaming and thrashing around, unaware of anything other than the pain.
Even after it was released from the sharp canines he still quivered and shook,
unable to focus on his surrounding until several minutes later. When he did he
found himself in Gaster's arms, being coddled and comforted as they laid on the
dust of the monsters that raped him.
Sans was left wheezing and delirious. He was instantly reminded of the comfort
Gaster gave. Gaster always saved Sans' after the guards came in. He always made
Sans feel better and healed him. He was only doing it once again, proving once
more above everyone he was all Sans had and could rely on. Papyrus didn't save
him. His mother's words didn't save him. Gaster had.
Sans clung to his form, unable to fully enjoy the moment as his bones quaked as
waved of agony from the bite mark in his soul passed through him. Gaster was
silent at first, the tips of his finger glowing weakly in a pathetic attempt to
heal with his magic. It felt comforting, though. After a few minutes, Gaster
began to kiss Sans and gently caress his bones. He whispered how much he loved
him, how he would always be there, how he was all Sans could trust. Sans would
nod or whimper, trying to get closer to him in any way possible, desperate for
the attention and love.
“Worries me for nothing, honestly. He could have at least notified me about the
meeting. We could have done it together.” Gaster huffed, fingers trailing down
Sans' spine. Sans arched it, pressing against his king.
“He...could have..wanted...a...surprise,” Sans had difficulty saying, his
breathing and voice both struggling to recover from the damage to his soul.
Sans' breath hitched, body twitching as his soul pulsed and Gaster shushed him,
kissing his skull.
“Perhaps, my dear. But it would look better if we stood side by side in the
council's eyes, right?”
“Yes, your highness.” Sans all but breathed out, nodding in case his king did
not hear him.
“You want to hear the good news, though? I wanted to tell you first but those
brutes just ruined the moment.” Gaster asked with fake sorrow that Sans
believed. “I hope you aren't in too much pain. I can get the doctor if you
want? You have been so well behaved, princess.” Gaster ran his hand over the
back of Sans' pelvis, fingers curling around his disks.
Sans lay, unable to even feel numb. His body radiated a pain that seemed
unending. As time went on it only grew worse. Still, he ignored it focusing
only on what he knew would end it. Gaster made him feel good. His king would
help him.
“No, your highness,” Sans replied instantly.
“I took care of them. I'll always take care of you, just as I promised. I'll be
here when all others abandon you. I'm all you can trust. The only one who will
truly love you.” Gaster pulled Sans' close, running a hand down his femur,
avoiding the scorching marks that still stung.
“But you won't see any more guards.” Gaster smiled, kissing Sans' cheek. “You
are so well behaved. My perfect little doll.” Gaster said gleefully, pulling
Sans into a hug that caused his bones to scream. “Everything is as it should
be. Papyrus went to the council to arrange a meeting where he will announce his
bride of choice. He wants me to be there when he does! I never thought it would
happen. He's so stubborn. But even the stubbornest can be broken. Right, my
love?”
“Yes, your highness.” Sans whimpered, nuzzling his chest.
“You've been so good, princess.” Gaster purred, one hand cupping his child'
cheek while the other stroked his scapula, trailing down a large and bleeding
gash. “You deserve a reward.” Gaster smiled. “I've missed having you all to
myself,” Gaster said sadly. Sans arched his spine as Gaster trailed the tips of
his finger down every vertebrae he had. He dragged two digits down his sacrum,
curling around the end of his coccyx before he left it, tracing up his pubis.
Sans let out a shaky breath, a moan following after. He sex was still exposed,
abused and raw. It leaked the fluids of another monster and his own blood and
juices. Gaster groaned, rolling his hips forward and Sans felt the hard shaft
press against his leg.
“My king,” Sans whimpered, hands falling to his pants where he freed his
father's member. Gaster let out a pleasant sigh and Sans began stroking the
cock, struggling to think of what to do. He'd normally know exactly what his
king wanted, but he was so consumed with pain and pleasure he couldn't think.
Sans just wanted Gaster to make him feel good. He just wanted to orgasm and
forget this pain like before. He didn't care about what Gaster did so long as
it numbed him.
“What do you want?” Sans asked, fully stroking the shaft, staring as he
accumulating precum. He ran the tip of his thumb over it, smearing it around
the slimy shaft. He shivered, breaths coming out in hot pants as his pelvis
thrust forward, imagining the bliss he'd be in once his father was inside him.
“My mouth? My socket? My sex?”
“What do you want from me, princess?” Gaster grinned, two fingers tracing the
lips of Sans' dripping sex.
“I want you anywhere,” Sans replied instantly, moaning out when his king
touched him. “Everywhere, make me feel good, please.”
“I can arrange that.” Gaster smiled, rolling Sans onto his back. “I want this
to be special. A special night. I want you to be bathed in pleasure.” Gaster's
hovered over his child, staring into the cloudy pupils with a smirk. “Do you
want that, princess? Do you want your Father to make you scream with pleasure?”
“Yes,” Sans cried out. Gaster teased his pussy with a finger, slipping in only
the first digit before he stilled.
“You're mine, Sans.” He purred. “Your body is mine. Your cunt is mine. And your
soul will be mine.” He plunged the finger inside and Sans gasped, clawing at
the sheets.
“Yours!” Sans gasped, pupils blown out as he zeroed in on the pleasure.
It was everything Sans wanted. A distraction from the pain. A source of bliss
and pleasure. A break from the agony and pain.
Sans rocked into the fingers inside him, moaning and begging for more
stimulation. His hands gripped onto Gaster's ribs, yanking him closer as the
elder's tongue traced along his own.
What purpose did he have fighting this? Sans truly wondered what made this so
terrible. It felt incredible. So what if it was not with someone Sans loved? In
the end, it was all he needed, all he desired. Love, acceptance, happiness,
pleasure. His king provided all of those to him with such little in return.
Sans had made these past years agony only due to his own selfish desires. But
now…
Sans threw his head back, mouth fallen as he screamed in pleasure. He came on
Gaster's fingers that continued their punishing pace, curling to press against
his sensitive walls as his king drew out the orgasm for as long as he could.
“Yes,” Gaster growled, watching Sans' soul glow intensely as he came. “Give
yourself to me, my doll.” Gaster pressed, trailing his free hand over Sans'
soul. “Give into your pleasure.”
Sans groaned as his soul summoned. He was still dazed from the orgasm and the
fingers that continued to work his sensitive walls though much slower. He let
out a soft cry when he felt a hand over his soul. He peeled open a socket and
watched Gaster stare at his soul with absolute hunger. The sight caused him to
clench around the fingers that Gaster then removed. Gaster licked the soul that
pulsated, faded and almost translucent with how weak it was. Sans whimpered,
pawing at his king's chest.
“My king,” he moaned, pushing his hips forward to meet the hard erection his
father had on display. His orgasmic bliss was fading quickly and Sans didn't
want the pain to return.
“Hush, my princess,” Gaster said quietly once Sans' started to come out of his
daze. “You are just so beautiful.” The king looked down at his son, bowing down
to kiss him sweetly. “What do you want, my doll?”
“I want you inside me.” Sans panted and Gaster groaned, using his slick covered
hand to begin stroking himself.
“Anything you want, princess,” Gaster said, lining himself up. He pushed
inside, never stopping to allow Sans to adjust not that he needed it. The
fingers had more than lubricated him up as well as stretch him. Sans just
moaned, arching his back and wrapping his legs around his father's hips.
Gaster's hips stuttered, forcing the rest of himself inside harsher than
intended however Sans did not care.
It felt so amazing. He didn't feel his fractured bones scream out. He didn't
feel the sting from the burns on his femurs. Not a single lacerations or bruise
cried out. His soul controlled him, removing all senses but pleasure. Sans
couldn't think of anything other than the complete and utter euphoria his soul
was in.
“Tell me who you belong to, Sans.” Gaster panted, summoning his own soul.
“You!” Sans replied breathlessly, sockets shut tightly as Gaster thrust
particularly hard. His pace was far more merciful than ever before. He wasn't
raping him or fucking him but making love to him. His hips were rhythmic and
speed purposeful. Every time their pelvis' met Sans was in ecstasy. He loved
it.
“Who owns you, Sans?” Gaster forced out, speed increasing as he felt his climax
rise.
“You, my king!” Sans all but sobbed.
“Is your soul mine? Do you give me your soul Sans? Will you let me own it and
fuck you until the sun rises?” Gaster pressed the two souls together and Sans'
sockets shot open, completely empty as he was overcome with overwhelming
pleasure.
“Yes!” He screamed as he came. He felt his orgasm for only a moment before an
unimaginable pain coursed through him. His jaw fell open as a shriek so loud
Sans feared the windows would shatter. His vision faded instantly with it,
senses consumed by this torture.
Sans couldn't focus on anything, his body feeling invaded. The inside of his
bones burned as if his magic was set ablaze inside of him. His bones twitched
and jerked, not having control over his actions. He couldn't breathe or speak,
only continuing the scream every chance he could. It was unbearable. It was
hell. Sans felt as if he was being taken over and controlled. A large black
unwanted entity was driving into him and Sans wanted no part of it.
He didn't know what it was, where he was, or what was even happening. He had no
idea what time was or anything pertaining to it. The pain demanded his every
thought not lifting for a second.
Sans choked on a gasp as he felt the pain start to fade. It was hardly any
better, but far less intense. As if the creature forcing itself had been taken
away but not removed. He was left convulsing on the surface he was on. His
inhales were gasps, his nonexistent stomach lurching forward as he threw up.
Sans could only feel it's weight seep into whatever was below him. He sobbed,
his entire being rattling so badly he couldn't even see straight not that his
vision was anything other than blured and faded movements.
Sans felt as if he dying or at the very least what he imagined death felt like.
Death called out to him, offering a numb and black escape. It offered an escape
with no strings attached. No fear, no guilt, no love, no happiness. It offered
the truest form of escape, a slate completely clean.
It did not take Sans more than a second to accept it's dark escape.
Chapter End Notes
     Not as great as it could be, but here you go. Thanks for being so
     respectful and patient. Sorry if the next chapter is slow to come as
     well.
***** Chapter 8 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Panic attacks, mentions of base abuse, mentions of past
     rape, forced soul bond, emotional manipulation, depression, lots of
     tears, forced pregnancy/almost pregnancy, overstimulated, some
     fucking cute ass shit near the end, graphic depiction of death, bones
     get fucked up
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sans couldn't move. He was awake and had been for a short while but couldn't do
much about it. His sockets felt heavy and bones felt like stone. Even breathing
felt like he was lifting a boulder with his ribs. Despite the blankets over
him, Sans felt cold enough to shiver. There was also something touching him, a
hand. It had been the first thing he noticed. It mainly held his own, thumb
running over the bones and on occasion the wrist before always going back to
the hand. Only twice so far had it left completely to fix the perfect sheets or
graze his cheek so gently Sans could barely even feel it.
Sans' foot twitched and it seemed to spark the life in his body. The twitch
sent a jolt of pain up his leg that caused his breath to hitch and face to
scrunch up. In an instant, that hand left his in favor of petting his skull as
if to calm him. Sans inhaled deeply, struggling to do so as his ribs ached with
each inhale. The room smelt familiar but his mind was too foggy to distinguish
what it was. He tried to use his voice but his magic seemed to be depleted
unable to help aid him in even that.
The hand continued to pet him, one returning to his hand to hold it so
delicately Sans started to believe a harsh touch would shatter him. With the
help of the gentle touches, Sans managed to crack open his sockets. The room
was dark and he could hardly see anything. He doubted he could form his eye-
lights at all to help him see far better.
“Sh,” a sudden voice whispered. The familiarity of it stopped Sans from
flinching away. “Just go to sleep,” it told him and Sans felt his eyes shut
once more as he decided to listen to the voice.
He was unaware of how long he had slept or if he was even sleeping. Perhaps he
had died or was in some purgatory. He had never felt so exhausted before and
truly felt as if he couldn't wake up even if he wanted to. It would have
frightened him had he the strength to even feel anything other than tired.
Sans just knew when he felt himself wake up again, he was much more energized.
He could feel his toes and fingers, curling them one digit at a time. He could
feel his face and breathe much easier. There was a dull ache but so faint and
incomparable to the abuse he was use to, he all but ignored it. It didn't hurt
to move or breathe with was all he needed.
This time when he opened his eyes it appeared to be sunrise. It took a moment
to readjust his gaze, sleep fogging his vision momentarily. The sun rising was
practically shining right on him and instantly Sans knew something was wrong.
Sans was not in his room. He knew due to the fact that the rising sun never
shined through his windows, only the evening sun. The bed was the second
giveaway, the sheets and color never before seen on his bed. Sans' dressings
were always dark in color, white long since abandoned. Still unable to move his
body too much, Sans turned his head ever so slightly to the right where saw a
wall. The corner of his mouth twitched downward. It offered nothing to help
ease his confusion. He could not recall a room that had a bed in the corner
like this one. What room was he in? A spare? With a look of confusion, he
turned to the left and inhaled sharply.
Papyrus.
The prince rested in a chair, laying awkwardly between the bed and chair he sat
on. He had a hand over Sans' covered one, a weight Sans originally thought was
just the covers. Now knowing it's owner, he stilled his twitching hand. Sans
watched Papyrus for several moments unsure of what was happening. Sans couldn't
even recall the last time he slept in his brother room yet alone the last time
he was in it. Was he dreaming?
A dream. When did he fall asleep? What happened? He was in pain. But why? What
led to him ending up in Papyrus' room? Why would Papyrus-
There was the faintest of knocks on the door. Sans held his breath when he saw
Papyrus' face shift. A soft grunt escaped him and as Sans saw his brother's
sockets open he closed his own, lying limp against the pillows. He tried to
steady his breathing but it was challenging. The confusing environment and
foggy memories had his anxiety and panic rising.
Papyrus sat up, and Sans felt the weight of his hand leave his own. There was a
soft sigh after a moment of silence before Papyrus gently stroked Sans head.
Unable to control himself, Sans flinched. Out of fear he whimpered and Sans was
certain he was doomed but Papyrus was quick to reassure him.
“Sh,” he whispered, petting his brother's skull. “It's alright Sans,” Papyrus
said softly and Sans struggled to tell if his brother knew he was faking sleep
or not. Sans had difficulty relaxing but did lighten up slightly once realizing
Papyrus was not upset with him.
The knock came again and Papyrus huffed. He leaned down to kiss Sans' skull
gently before he sat up and went to the door. Sans held his breath as he
listening.
“I ordered everyone to leave me alone,” Papyrus said softly but clearly
annoying.
“I need to talk to you, sir,” Undyne said urgently and Sans felt his curiosity
rise. Undyne rarely visited anyone and even more seldom referred to Papyrus in
any formal manner due to their close friendship.
“It can wait, Undyne.”
“Sir, we have waited but this is urgent. I understand he is still asleep but
the humans are-”
“I ordered silence, captain,” Papyrus hissed and Sans felt his sockets slowly
open. “I will not be disturbed until my brother has awoken. Unless there is war
or the humans are at the gates of the castle I don't want to hear anything you
have to say!” Sans felt himself flinch at the harsh tone. Papyrus had never
sounded so authoritative before. He always had a firm voice when talking to the
guards but it always had a hidden tone of friendliness. He spoke in a way that
didn't just offer safety but a true member to idolize and revere. He was above
all else a friend to the people, but this tone held nothing but order.
This new tone was so far from his usual one. It sounded too much like Gaster's
A sudden wave of fear raced over Sans causing his soul to act up and radiate a
pain he had forgotten about. His sockets squeezed shut as a loud whimper
escaped him. His pulsating soul stole all his attention. It washed over him in
a wave of information reminding him of all that happened. Gaster, his soul, the
bond. Papyrus would see it. He would know! Sans shouldn't be here. He needed to
get out.
Sans jerked away wanting to get up and run but he couldn't move without his
entire body revolting. His arms were pressed against his chest, body curling up
into a ball despite the sheets feeling like sandpaper against his injuries. He
inhaled sharply, whimpering as he clutched his middle, body throbbing as his
soul reacted in it's abused state. He couldn't move from his fetal position but
it applied too much pressure to his middle that begged to be eased. Sans felt
the blankets over him middle become wet. He peeled open a socket and noticed
the dark red stain seeping into the white sheets and began to tremble. His
mouth parted, a loud whimper escaping.
“Sans!” Papyrus cried, abandoning Undyne at the door to rush over to his
brother. Sans recoiled away from him, tears spilling as he started at his
brother with complete and utter terror. What had he seen? What did he know? Was
there a rumor spreading? How did he end up here? What was going on? How long
was he asleep?
“Sans, please calm down. Your soul-” Papyrus reached out and Sans cried out,
trying to back away.
“Don't-Don't touch me!” He begged, and Papyrus stared at him with a sorrowful
and alarmed expression.
“Sans, please. Breathe, you must calm down,” Papyrus implored. “I'll explain
everything just-”
“Papyrus he is bleeding!” Undyne pointed out from the door.
“Get the doctor!” Papyrus ordered. Sans felt as if he had been dunked in a
frozen lake. His eye-lights vanished and already dwindling sense of reason and
logic vanished completely. He clutched his skull, curling up tightly as he
sobbed, rocking himself.
The doctor? The doctor told Gaster everything. The doctor would tell Gaster
Papyrus was here. He'd tell him Sans was in his bed. He would be in so much
trouble. If word got out about this Gaster would have his head. Gaster would
take his soul and squeeze the very life out of him. The doctor would tell him.
The king probably already knew! The maid, the bond. Gaster was probably on his
way right now.
Sans' hand flew to his mouth to stiffen the sobs of panic that escaped his
panicked breathing.
Gaster was coming. Gaster was there, ready to come in and take him away. Sans
hadn't done anything. He didn't know what was going on but that didn't matter.
Gaster wouldn't know that even with the soul bond. He'd see Sans guilty and in
need of punishment. He'd feel his fear and guilt and know he did something
wrong.
“Please. Please. Please. Please,” Sans began to chant as he rocked himself. “I
don't know. I didn't know. Don't be upset. I didn't do it. I didn't do
anything. I swear. I promise. Please don't hurt me please don't,” Sans pleaded,
on the verge of a mental collapse. He felt himself becoming weak. Voices spoke
to him but Sans was unable to focus on them. His panic was too high, the pain
becoming unbearable as his soul gave out, under too much stress to function.
Too much. It all was too much.
Every time he fell asleep he was granted the wondrous gift of nothing. No
dreams. No pain. Silence. He was asleep and time passed without him and it was
the biggest blessing he could ever receive.
And waking up was an absolute curse.
“Please try to keep still.” The doctor asked as a groggy Sans stirred. The
princess blinked slowly, awoken by the doctor's gentle hand on his arms and
legs. “I'm just checking to see how you are healing. If you are up for it, I
have some medicine I'd like you to take.” Sans cringed, shivering against the
cold air on his bones. He forced open a socket, watching the doctor pour a vial
of light blue liquified magic into a cup and hand it to him.
“Your soul is struggling to create as much magic as you need to recover. A few
added boosts of magic at meals should help it along.” The doctor explained as
Sans drank. “May I examine your skull?” He asked and Sans nodded, looking
puzzled. The doctor had never asked before. But this wasn't his normal doctor.
This doctor was fuzzy, though no animal Sans recognized. The one Gaster
assigned to him was scaly and cold, a reptile of some kind. The fuzzy body
alone made this doctor infinitely more inviting and trusting than the older
one. The doctor's touched were soft and guiding, allowing Sans almost total
control of the situation. A power Sans did not know how to accept nor properly
used. Sans just kept still as the doctor looked over his skull. They traced
over sore spots Sans wondered about. Bruises? Perhaps cracks? He had no idea
what his body looked like and was honestly too nervous to look.
Sans wasn't aware he was being healed until he saw the thumb of the monster
trace along the bottom on his sockets, glowing faintly in a lime green. Sans
flinched but caught himself before he recoiled away.
“Are you in any pain?” The doctor asked, pausing their movements.
“No,” Sans replied weakly. The doctor gave a small nod and finish healing
before he pulled away.
“Can you follow my finger? Try to keep your head still.” The doctor held up his
index finger and moved it around. Sans followed it as best as he could but he
felt himself lag a few times due to exhaustion. The doctor pulled away and
nodded.
“Would you mind if I examined your ribs?” Sans weakly nodded. “Would you also
be bothered if I asked you to look away as I did so?”
“Why?” Sans asked suspiciously.
“I just wish to make this as comfortable as possible for you. I do not want you
to feel the need to try to avoid staring or feel any sense of judgment from my
part. Again, I am only going to examine and heal if necessary.”
Reluctantly Sans turned his head to the left. The doctor unbuttoned his shirt
and pulled the sides away from his torso. Sans shivered as the air met his
bones. The doctor checked out his now exposed middle and Sans avoided staring.
He felt the gentle touches of the doctors on his bones, a feeling he was used
to. Ribs were easily broken. What shocked him was when the doctor's hand
touched a part Sans became very unfamiliar with. It felt like he was touching
his magically conjured body but Sans never conjured it without Gaster. Even
then Gaster rarely asked for it to be formed for more than his sex. Sans' head
snapped down instantly and he tensed when he saw his middle was indeed filled
in. There was a bandage on it, covering what appeared to be a cut of some kind.
More like a gash but how large the bandage was, wrapping around his middle.
“There was a large gash, a laceration,” The doctor quickly said, refusing to
meet Sans' gaze. “I did not wish to alarm you. I know you most likely don't
recall having this before you passed out. Everything appears fine, though. As
you know the magic will fade when it fully heals. I imagine it'll pass in a few
days. It reopened when you first awoke but already has closed and is almost
fully healed. You have been recovering very well.” The doctor said as he, Sans
now assumed, fixed the buttons of Sans' shirt and tucked him back in.
“I, uh, doubt you are aware but I am your newly assigned doctor.” The monster
introduced, “Dr. Bwer.”
“The king gave me a doctor,” Sans muttered.
“Yes, and to my knowledge he has been replaced,” The doctor mumbled, fiddling
with his things. “I am your new one. I am aware of all previous illnesses and
injuries and would like to speak with you about your soul.” Sans tensed, hands
gripping the sheets.
“Why?” He asked sharply but the doctor held up his hand.
“I'd like to make this quick, Princess. I do not wish to overexcite you. I
simply have some information to share. This information is kept between us
only, be assured of that. I may be hired by your brother but for your privacy,
I only inform him of the basics of your injuries. Things he will need to be
wary of to not hurt you. He is aware your soul is in a fragile state. He is
also aware there was a forced bond. He figured that out himself, I did not tell
him that.”
Sans felt sick. Papyrus knew? Then what was he doing by Sans' side earlier?
“It's the bond I would like to talk about,” The doctor began regaining Sans'
attention. “I would like you to be aware of the long-term effects to not cause
permanent damage. Your soul was bonded with another, as I'm sure you are aware.
However, the bond is no longer there. Forced bonds have a tendency to break
apart easily. It often takes multiple bondings to form a solid one or a
pregnancy could force the bond as well.” Sans visibly recoiled. His hands flew
off of his middle, pupils shrinking to the size of pinheads.
“Am I pregnant?!” He panicked. Was that why his middle was formed? He was
pregnant?!
“You are not pregnant.” The doctor pressed, trying to calm Sans down.
“Was I?” Sans questioned and the doctor held his hand out slowly in a sign of
peace but Sans could not find any. There was a cut on his stomach, he knew no
child could survive that but where had the cut come from? Why was it given?
Sans may not be pregnant but he had no reason to form his middle. He couldn't
without being awake and the only reason he'd form it unknowingly is-
“Please calm down.” The doctor rested a hand over Sans' arm but the skeleton
recoiled. “I will try to answer your questions but stress will damage your
soul.”
“I don't care about my soul!” Sans snapped. There was a child in him. Gaster's
child. It was there. Regardless of where it still lived or not meant nothing
for it in him at one point! Gaster had forced a bond. Had forced a child onto
him. Even if it wasn't alive Sans swore he could feel it. He could feel it
leeching off of him. The black darkness draining him and poisoning him. A
child. His child.
“You were not pregnant,” The doctor stated firmly and Sans watching him,
breaths uneven. “During your rest, your middle formed and that is a typical
sign of pregnancy, yes. However, I was asked to ensure that did not happen.”
A typical sign of pregnancy? So, Sans was pregnant.
“...So I...I was...” Dr. Bwer sighed, sitting down in the chair by the bed.
“In a sense yes, princess, you were in the earliest stages of pregnancy. So
early, I, a professional doctor, would still not consider it pregnant. No soul
had yet been formed. There is a possibility it would not have and your body was
merely preparing for one but it is impossible to tell now. You are just as
'pregnant' now as you were then, which show just how early this all was. There
is nothing inside you nor will there be for this situation. I cut
your...stomach, if you will, informing your body it wasn't safe for a child at
that time and effectively removing any chances of pregnancy with this
situation. There is no lasting damage and in the future should you wish to have
a child should be able to carry one without problems. But please know you are
not, nor in my opinion, have ever been pregnant. You just simply showed
symptoms of it.”
“But I could have been,” Sans whispered, fingers curling around his shirt
hiding his damaged middle. “He—I was fertile. It would have-”
“Even if life were to form it would have died before you could give birth. You
both would have.” Sans flinched, recalling similar words being told to his
mother. That she'd die should she have another child, they both would. Yet
still, Gaster forced it, caring not for the life of his queen but the potential
heir inside her.
Did he care now? Did Gaster order the operation? Did he tell this doctor to
terminate the child?
“Who ordered you to operate?” Sans asked and Dr. Bwer seemed hesitant to
answer.
“The...prince,” he eventually said and Sans felt a chill spread throughout his
body.
Papyrus? Papyrus ordered it? How? Why?
“The prince ordered it,” Dr. Bwer repeated seeming unhappy but in no position
to deny or lie to Sans. “In the state, you were and currently are in, the
pregnancy was doomed to fail. You are currently unable to even fully sustain
your own life without medication yet alone a child's. Even if by some ungodly
nature that child were to somehow live, you would not. I told the prince this
and he acted and demanded I ensure your life be saved and only yours.”
Papyrus chose his life over the baby. Papyrus chose his life. Despite it all,
he chose him and Sans couldn't understand why. Something just didn't make
sense. Was Papyrus aware of who's child that was? Of who he bonded with? Was he
aware of what happened or was he just informed Sans was injured? Why did he
care? Why did Papyrus choose him?!
“Princess,” Dr. Bwer called and Sans felt his hand graze his own. He became
aware he was dangerously close to reopening his middle wound, the tips of his
fingers pressing harshly on the gash. He pulled away, choosing to instead grab
the sheets.
“I'd like you to know that this all has had a large influence on your soul.
Regardless of how short lived it was it still happened. No matter how the bond
broke apart, your soul is now your own but heavily damaged. Due to the nature
of how the bond formed and was taken away along with the trauma after, it left
your soul in a delicate place. This is why you are unable to produce magic
properly. A soul in your state is very weak and the trauma done to it makes it
even weaker. This is why you would die if you carried the child. Your body is
unable to even supply you with magic and stability, much less a child who would
drain you completely. You will heal but in time.
“The larger issue is the mental factor this has. Despite whatever relations or
feelings, you had to your bonded mate or child, your soul still attached to
both. With both gone it is essentially, to use a human term, heartbroken.
Soulbroken, if you will. The anguish of losing either has your soul depressed
and extremely unstable. This will cause you to feel that way as well, mostly
emotionally. You could be quick to anger, cry spontaneously, or start laughing
it is really open at the moment. The wounds are still fresh and your soul has
yet to remove itself from these two situations, trying to cling onto a force
that is no longer there. It is very much so like overcoming a death to one
close to you.”
“They were not close to me,” Sans said lowly, disgust swirling around his
middle. The doctor frowned, lips pressed in a firm line.
“Regardless of how you personally feel, those two were the closer than anyone
could ever be to you. They were a part of your soul. Nothing can be closer than
that.” Sans felt himself turning red, wanted to scream out the doctor cut him
off before he could. “What makes the situation worse is your dislike-”
“Hate,” Sans all but spat.
“Your hate,” the doctor corrected, “to these two. It caused, even more,
confusion and instability to your soul who was attached to them. Your hate will
make it both easier and more difficult to overcome this obstacle. The normal
way to cope is grief, but from what I can tell you feel none for the soul you
were bonded to or the child. But, a loss is a loss. In the end, acceptance is
the goal. Perhaps not the best word, rather, clarity. Even just overcoming the
trauma. Whether you find that through a grieving process or not is up to you
and how you choose to do this. Recovery will come, but I only ask you to take
things slowly. Do not excite yourself or overwhelm yourself. Your soul is quite
fragile. Separations no matter the relations are always strenuous on the soul.”
The doctor inhaled deeply before he exhaled and resumed speaking.
“I wish I could give you an accurate time of recovery, but there is none. Not
for your situation. To be honest, it often results in death. But on a lighter
note, it is often the bond separating that kills most, and you have managed to
survive that and an abortion. I'd say despite how you seem, you are far
stronger than any monster I know. The fact that you are even alive proves that.
What you do now and how you recover from all this is all dependent on you. Your
soul is your very existence. It is your emotions, magic, and being. It doesn't
always control those, though. Things like depression and emotions you feel can
affect the soul greatly. How you view yourself is how your soul will feel. To
recover from the physical injuries could take up to three months for most, five
for the larger wounds. But the emotional and mental damage is what cripples
most and that is something only you can heal. The best thing I can recommend is
rest. Rest will heal you far better than I.” The doctor said with a smile
before he began collecting his things, leaving behind a few items Sans assumed
were the needed magic supplements. “If you have any questions you may ask now,
princess.”
Sans stared down at the sheets, thinking over his state but struggling to come
up with anything to ask about. The doctor seemed to answer all he could,
informing Sans of the injuries he was unaware of and how well he was healing.
He did wish to ask how he got here or what happened but he wasn't sure if the
doctor knew. He also didn't want to know himself, afraid of the answer. The
small bits of information he shared had Sans scrambling for pieces of a puzzle
he didn't even have the pieces for. How much did Papyrus know? Where was
Gaster? What happened after he passed out? Questions Sans had, however, he had
none he wished to ask. He wanted to ponder and think it over, maybe able to
piece together something that resembled a story.
Sans shook his head, looking down at the sheets.
“I suggest you rest, but if you are up for it there are visitors outside.”
“No,” Sans muttered, resting back against the pillows. He wanted to be alone “I
don't want any visitors.”
“I'll let them know,” Dr. Bwer said with a bow before he left.
Sans was left alone and for once, he didn't mind it. It was silent and empty,
two things he had been deprived of for a while. He either awoke to guards in
his room or with Gaster by his side and now with neither, Sans felt
uncomfortable. It was peaceful, a sensation so foreign it left Sans feeling
tenser than rested. It was so quiet he could hear the muffled footsteps of the
staff outside the door and even idle chatter of those passing by. 
Peaceful. So freakishly peaceful.
When was the last time Sans relaxed like this? When was the last time he had
time to relax like this? Sans dared to say he never had. He never allowed
himself to. It made him think. It made him recall the past, the present, and
future. Of his mother and his father and worthless self. Sans worked himself to
the point of exhaustion to avoid his own mind, unable to ever escape it once it
started to go. It was far too dark in there. It was a pool far deeper than
expected and when he stepped inside, expecting a shallow surface, he instead
sunk to the very bottom. Past what he tried to block out, and past the
memories, sinking all the way down to the locked cage the held emotions long
since forgotten. Demonic creatures that screamed and cried, feelings and bitter
thoughts that clawed at his feet dragging him away from the surface. Their very
touch tainted him, sparking bitter feeling and repressed tears to threaten to
rise within him. Their demonic hands invaded his body searching for the key
that would unleash them from their prison.
But when they found it Sans would be ripped away. Another hand would yank him
from the waters of his mind and away from the feelings he locked away. He'd be
left standing before a hollow skeleton resembling his own. One with no life in
its eyes nor feelings to be given. It would say nothing, nor do nothing, but in
that silence, it said and did everything. It displayed the perfect Sans. The
one everyone wanted him to be. The one he was supposed to be.
The little doll.
Sans jumped, barely containing a yelp when a knock came at the door. He
recalled now why he never relaxed like this anymore. Relaxing let down his
guard. It broke his mask and made him into a monster he had long since
forgotten who to be. Sans didn't know how to control himself with emotions so
he repressed them. He locked them away no longer needed to feel anything that
prevented him from doing his job.
He was the royal advisor, the princess. He was a calm and collected figure. He
was the monster with a heart and eyes of stone. He was logical, rational, and
above all else loyal. Loyal to the kingdom, the council, and the king. Sans may
have been ordered to halt his job as an advisor, but his loyalty would always
persist. There was an image to uphold at all times. The imagine of respect,
royalty, and power.
He may be afraid, ill, and confused, but Sans could act.
“Sans?” Papyrus called from behind the door. “Are you awake?” Sans inhaled
deeply, fixing the perfect sheets and ensuring nothing was not of place.
“Yes,” he replied back and the door opened.
“May I come in?” Papyrus asked.
“It is your room, brother,” Sans said as his sibling entered and shut the door.
“That gives me no right to barge in if you are inside. We technically own the
entire castle yet we do not storm into whatever room we please.”
“I suppose not,” Sans said with a forced but believable chuckle.
It was hard to act natural. A large reason was the fact that Sans feared to be
in the very presence of his brother without another set of eyes on him. Sans
wasn't to be alone with his brother, Gaster didn't like it. Bond or none, Sans
swore he felt the jealous hate trickle down his spine. But he had to be
reasonable. He couldn't just reject Papyrus. Obviously if Sans was her Gaster
knew about it. Perhaps it as a reward for Papyrus choosing a bride. Gaster did
promise they could see each other once Papyrus did. Sans only wished he had
time to prepare.
It was always hard to lie when you didn't know what to lie about and Sans
certainly had no idea what to lie about. He had pulled miracles out of thin air
in the past but he always had either time to prepare or the slightest bit of
something to grab onto. Right now Sans was left under the impression that
everyone knew he was sick and that was it. But that didn't add up given his
appearance.
Undyne mentioned humans at one point, right? Perhaps an attack? Was that what
Gaster said about him? A human attacked, perhaps that was the truth right now.
Sans couldn't even begin to fathom the lie behind the pregnancy and soul bond
but perhaps his brother would be sensible enough to not mention it. He so far
had yet to comment on anything making Sans assume Gaster had told a lie more
convincing that what he could come up with.
Logic. Sans just needed to use logic. What did and did not make sense and how
to play off of it. Papyrus was by his side. That meant there was no way that he
knew Gaster was the one who hurt him. He did not know if there was a mystery
lie for that or not and would avoid that topic if possible. Undyne mentioned
humans so either the war happened or it didn't. By the tone, Sans assumed it
did and they were indeed at war. He could assume there was an attack and begin
to allude that is what injured him but if Papyrus gave him the feeling it
didn't he'd wait to know more.
Right now, the best course was safety. Don't assume, but hint. be general and
not too descriptive. It was just Papyrus. Sans could even pretend to still be
hurt by his behavior with the brides. He just needed to be as normal as
possible. He could manage that. He just needed to be convincing until Gaster
arrived.
Just wait for Gaster. Gaster would come. Gaster always came.
“Is there a reason you visit?” Sans questioned. “Just wanted to be in your
room?” He joked but Papyrus just stepped over, sitting himself down in the
chair by the bed. Sans noticed he had papers in his hand but did not linger on
them for long.
“I wished to speak to you,” Papyrus said calmly. “You were asleep for a while.
You no doubt feel out of the loop on what is going on. Waking up in my room,
injured, you must just feel overwhelmed.”
“Yes at first, but I trust the situation is being handled whatever it may be.”
Sans folded his hands together to prevent them from fidgeting. “The doctor
explained a few thing though not much.”
“Yes, I asked him to try to keep quiet,” Papyrus announced and Sans felt his
mouth twitch. “He recommended I allow you time to heal and rest before
bombarding you with information. I assumed the injuries would be the most
traumatic but he disagreed. I, however, know you far better than he. You will
work sick or healthy, never caring for your personal health. You only care
about your job and duty and no doubt after five days of rest you are feeling
quite restless.”
“Five days?” Sans repeated in shock.
“Yes, did the doctor not tell you that?”
“No, he failed to divulge that bit of information.”
“Well, yes, you have been asleep for five days. You stirred twice but other
than that nothing.” Papyrus leaned over to the table by the bed and began
pouring a cup of water. He added one of the blue vials into it and stirred,
tapping the spoon out on the glass before he set it down and handed to glass to
his brother. “Please drink this,” he said and Sans reluctantly took the cup and
took a sip to please his brother.
“Now, a lot has happened,” Papyrus began, glancing down at the papers.
“I can't imagine anything too shocking,” Sans said honestly taking another sip.
“I recall Undyne mentioning the humans so did we end up going to war with them?
That was the largest issue at hand.”
“Sans please, allow me to explain,” Papyrus said calmly.
“You can brother, I just don't want you fussing over 'overwhelming' me. I'm
very much aware of what the goal and plans were. The council made them very
clear. I was kept informed while ill. Last I recall, you were choosing a
bride.” The words felt like daggers, tears threatening to rise and Sans hand to
curl his toes to repress the overwhelmingly urge to bawl. “Is that what's on
the papers? The letters of your new fiancé?” Papyrus winced and straightened
up. The hard and hurtful expression he displayed had Sans feeling extremely
apprehensive. If one thing was certain, it was that Papyrus had a bride. That,
Sans knew would happen. Papyrus said he'd choose one himself. So why did he
appear so cold?
“Sans,” Papyrus said before he paused and removed the cup from his hands and
set it down. “Brother.” Sans allowed his wary expression to grow into concern.
“Something has happened that you did not know about. Something that will shock
you. And something that I will tell you slowly but clearly, so I do not
overwhelm you. I'd like for you to remain calm, and if you can not I will
stop.”
“Papyrus what is going on?” Sans demanded but Papyrus continued to act passive
which disturbed him. Papyrus wasn't gentle. Papyrus wasn't calm. He was
emotional and was loved for it. The people loved him because he was honest and
true and his fellow knights praised him for his loyalty and memorable speeches.
When he spoke it was from his soul but when Sans looked at his brother now he
couldn't see anything. He wasn't hollow or empty, he was guarded.
“Please calm down.”
“Papyrus tell me what happened,” Sans ordered.
“Not unless you calm down.”
Sans opened his mouth to spit out a threat but quickly closed it. Calm. He
could be calm. He just needed to be calm. He'd get his information. He just
needed to relax.
Sans took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, body straight and stiff but
not in a manner of fear but of professionalism. Even injured and ill Sans could
still remain fierce and determined. Papyrus was not the only one with the
ability to mask himself. Sans was the champion of it. If his brother wanted to
play coy he'd bite and win.
“Someone in our castle was contacting the humans.” Papyrus stared, reading
Sans' expression before he went on. “They gave out classified information about
our armies, strength, weaknesses, and were conspiring again us. They were
working with the humans, wanting this war to start so that they could lead
Asgore into a trap and kill him.”
“Who?” Sans wondered. Papyrus was silent. The two held a firm and unbreakable
gaze and after a moment of shrieking silence, Papyrus answered.
“King Gaster.”
“That's a lie!” Sans shouted instantly and Papyrus shook his head obviously
expecting the outburst.
“There is proof.”
“What proof?! I see no proof! I've seen no proof! I worked by his side for
years! He had never once contacted the humans in secret! Are you accusing me of
this lie too because I worked with him? I read every letter, knew of every
meeting. Am I talking to the humans as well, Papyrus?” Sans berated his brother
who remained calm much to Sans' discomfort.
“I have proof.” Papyrus handed over the letter that Sans snatched away.
Letters. Letters to the human king. Letters signed by Gaster himself, the
signature a perfect match. The letters discussed everything Papyrus accused
Gaster of. They discussed armies, secret information, detailed plans and
strategies of attack, and sabotage on the monster nation. All written out in
the handwriting of king.
But when? When did he do this? Sans was with him almost every hour of the day.
He saw everything Gaster did, checked every letter, set up every meeting. There
was nothing Sans didn't know about the king and the king told him everything.
The king told him information, not even the council knew about yet he kept this
a secret?
“Where is the king?” Sans whispered, arms shaking. This was a setup. Someone
was trying to frame Gaster. It was impossible for him to send these. Sans would
know. Sans had to know. Sans knew everything. Gaster trusted Sans with
everything!
“Sans…”
“Where is the king?” Sans repeated through clenched teeth.
“Please calm-”
“Papyrus where is Gaster?!” Sans screamed.
“Dead.” Sans visibly recoiled.
“You lie.” He whispered.
“The humans killed him.” Emotionless. Papyrus confessed this without even a
frown. It was a lie. It had to be a lie. There was no way Gaster was dead.
“You lie!”
“He was a traitor.”
“LIAR!”
“Think about it, Sans. We have been enemies of the humans since they broke the
alliance by spilling the blood of the king and queen's child. But who is the
one who started the war? Who is the one who started this?”
“You are lying.” Is all Sans could force out, refusing to partake in his
brother's lies.
“The king,” Papyrus answered. “He invaded the land. He triggered the revolts
and attacks. He started the war, but why?”
“Because Gaster had a plan for war. He took the city which was connected to a
large agricultural district. We are in need of it. He was saving our kingdom!
He is a hero!” Sans shouted but Papyrus continued to dismiss him.
“That's what you told the council. But they knew it's not true. It is a losing
battle.”
“No, it isn't! We will win! We had plans and strategies to lure them out and
for the king to move in and-”
“Be killed,” Papyrus stressed cutting his brother off. “Right there in those
letters is the proof, Sans. He wasn't luring the humans out of their walls he
was moving Asgore out of his. You saw the attack plan. Asgore was at the head
of the battlefield. It was a sneak attack where he'd go around and take the
capital while we fought. But our men would have arrived on a field of no men
for they'd all be at the capital. It was a trick. Your proof is right there
written in his handwriting, with his signature.” Papyrus pointed to the papers
and Sans threw them aside.
This was mutiny. Insurrection! This was all a setup! Gaster didn't plan any of
this he was too stupid to even cover his own ass let alone plan all this!
Gaster prided himself on his name and reputations there is no way he'd soil
both by siding with the humans. The strategy plan was full-proof and effective
in every way! Even if Gaster were to try to intervene Papyrus would most likely
be the one in charge while he was away or on the battlefield and he would not
allow any treasury to occur. This entire debacle was some conspiracy against
Gaster. One Papyrus perhaps even started. Hating their father Papyrus would be
the before suspect for starting a rebellion against the king. The council
wouldn't fall for it though. There were rules and laws to uphold. They would
not be fooled by letters alone. They could be forged. They needed the word of
another monster. And so Papyrus came to Sans, to try to convince his brother to
go against Gaster but Sans was not a fool. He learned his lesson. He knew which
monster would always be there no matter what. And he'd sooner die than betray
that trust.
“The council will have your head,” Sans spat. Papyrus frowned. “You think you
can try to convince me to join in on your mutiny? I'm no traitor. I am loyal to
my king. He is the ruler. Our father. The council will not fall for your
honeyed words or easily falsed papers. You need the word of the monster closest
to him and I will not be apart of this! They know the truth! I tell the council
everything! They'll know you are lying.”
“You told the council everything Gaster wanted you to,” Papyrus said,
collecting the papers. He glanced up at his brother, almost pitying him and
Sans wanted to slap him. “But you said that because you had to. Because you
didn't know any better. He was using you, Sans. You were a decoy, a puppet, and
the one who would take the blame.” Papyrus rested his arms on the bed, hands
folded together neatly. He looked at his brother who watched him with narrow
sockets and heavy breaths. “There are other letters I can show you. Letters
that involve you. Letters that say how you'd be the one to blame. You'd be the
traitor. You're the one who proofs all his letters. You are the one who manages
his schedule. You are the one by his side every second of the day. And you were
right by his side this entire time. And you know who else you were by?” Sans
held his breath. “Me, Sans. The future king. You were by my side, raised me,
and made me the monster I am. Now how would that look? The monster who raised
the future king also helped destroy the monster kingdom. I'd be ruined. Our
family would be ruined. All three of us would be executed. The traitor king,
his advisor who raised the prince, and the prince groomed and raised to be as
deceitful as the rest of his family. We are pawns in his game, brother. He was
using us. He had a plan larger than anyone could have predicted, even you.”
Papyrus leaned closer, resting his hand over Sans' practically feeling the
overwhelming emotions take over his sibling.
This couldn't be true. It couldn't be. It didn't make sense. Everything was
perfect. Everything was exactly where it should be, following the path it was
meant to follow. Papyrus was preparing to be king and had a bride. Gaster was
fulfilling his final duties as king. Sans was finally becoming the perfect
object he always wanted. Everything was perfect so why would Gaster ruin that?
“There is proof of this all happening brother,” Papyrus muttered, leaning
closer to his brother. “And I know you weren't involved in it, were you?” Sans'
pupils darted up to his brother's face. His tone held a different meaning to
his words, one Sans didn't understand. Was he in trouble? Was he hated? Was he
ruined? What was Papyrus trying to say? Was he trying to get a confession from
Sans?
“Sans I promised to tell you what happened and I plan to. Somethings might be
muddled right now but let me explain. Because I know you are innocent, everyone
does. Sans, you value the love for the kingdom above all else, don't you?”
Papyrus said. Said. It appeared as a question. It sounded like Sans was to
answer, but he knew he wasn't supposed to. He knew by the way Papyrus only
started at their hands. He could tell by the gentle strokes of his fingers
against his own that he was supposed to be silence and listen. “Your duty is to
the king and the council, but everyone knows they all bow to the people. The
people hold power. They are what makes this kingdom thrive. You know this
brother, right? You love the people more than anything else. Don't you, Sans?”
A response. Now he was to reply but his voice was gone. All he could do was
offer the fainted of nods but it was enough. Papyrus smiled, squeezing his hand
gently.
“Now, you weren't aware of this at first, were you brother? No. You see
everyone knows the king was crazy. He overworked you. You had to do so much
work to make up for his horrific ruling. He was but a figurehead while you did
all the work. You were so busy doing his job you couldn't watch him. You had to
look after me. That was your other duty. You raised me and did your work at the
same time. You hadn't a minute to spare in the day. You had no idea the king
was doing these horrific things behind your back. But one day you found out,
Sans. You found a letter you weren't supposed to. The king saw that you found
it. He never trusted you, did he, Sans? He knew how devoted you were to me and
your job. You were always so focused on the council and me and the people. You
wanted to try to prepare this kingdom for the next king and you did a wonderful
job at that. The king saw this as a threat. He couldn't trust you because you
valued the people more than him. You were making me a ruler that would be
better than him and he loathed that. And when you found that letter, you tried
to tell someone. You tried to tell me, remember? When you found out you rushed
to me but the king knew and he ordered guards to escort you and you had to lie
and talk about the wedding and brides because you were afraid. You gave me that
list, remember? With the code on it. You said it was a list of brides, but it
had a message on it. You remember that right?”
No. No Sans didn't remember that at all. Nothing Papyrus told him made sense,
none of it at all. It all contradicted what he knew to be true but was it? He
was so disoriented and confused he couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't.
Did Gaster lie? Did he have secret plans? Did Sans betray him? Is that why he
got hurt? Sans had no memory of anything Papyrus was saying. None of it was
true. Maybe all of it was true. But none of it made sense so Sans felt as if it
was all a lie. Lies weren't the truth. Lies weren't what happened. Lies weren't
the answers he needed.
But he despite that he nodded. He needed to stop. He needed Papyrus to stop. He
needed the truth. Nothing was making sense and Sans couldn't find his own voice
to confess any of this. His soul raced in his chest, feeling like he wanted to
cry and scream but he couldn't pry his mouth apart to do either. He just
stared, focused on what his brother was saying having nothing else.
“That's how I knew where to look, Sans. That note you gave me. You said those
letters were in his office. But before I could help you he took you away. He
placed you under lock and key claiming you were sick and wouldn't let anyone
inside.” Sans stared with wide sockets as Papyrus pet his hand soothing him
like some child. “We know he lied about those sick days, Sans. Those were days
you found out things you shouldn't have and fearful of what you would say he'd
lock you away until he knew he could trust you. But we won't talk about those
right now.” Papyrus offered a small smile, stroking Sans' cheek before he let
his hand fall back to Sans'. “This time, though, the king knew he couldn't keep
you silent. You were so determined. You were so strong and brave, loyal to your
kingdom. You refused to bite your tongue and hide this. You could not doom your
people this way and we all know the struggles you endured because of it. You
are so brave. But he did not see it that way. He didn't know what to do with
you. So, unable to trust you he decided to have you assassinated. That's when
the human arrived, remember? The one that the guards killed and everyone knew
about? It was just ten doors away from you after all. There's even a letter in
his office asking for your assassination. I showed the captain and we rushed to
your room. There's no way a human could enter without our knowing. Not unless
the king ordered it. But we couldn't get inside. He didn't want anyone seeing
you because he knew you'd tell us the truth.”
Papyrus paused, flattening the sheets and allowing what he thought was enough
time for Sans to process what he said but he wasn't even close.
“This next part is hard, and stop me if you want. I know this is painful but
you must know what happened. I and a handful of close guards were fed up with
Gaster's lies. We marched over to your room ready to barge in when we heard you
scream.”
Sans found himself absolutely paralyzed. Was this were Papyrus told him what he
saw? Is this were Papyrus turns to face him with utter disgust and hate and he
speaks about how he saw their father fucking Sans and how he moaned like a
whore enjoying every second of it? Is this where he hits him as he shouts at
him about how he watched their bond form as they came together, Gaster claiming
him and marking him forever as his own? Is this the final moment of their
relationship? Of their ties as brothers? Was Sans about to loose Papyrus? He
deserved it. He deserved so much worse than this but still Sans couldn't
imagine-
“We entered to find a human assaulting you. Another attempted assassination.”
What?
“Brother, I am so sorry I was not there fast enough,” Papyrus apologized, voice
laced with pure anguish. Sans was stunned, tears sliding down his face and mind
silent. “I will forever be haunted by that. I failed to protect you. I have
failed you. You have suffered so much because of my complete and utter
stupidity and I can never apologize enough for that. NothingI ever do will ever
make up for what I have done.” Papyrus' sockets were wet but Sans knew those
tears would never fall. Papyrus did not cry. He was not weak like Sans.
Papyrus was silent for a while. Holding Sans' hand tightly in his own, kissing
the back of his hand. The anguish soon morphed into a rage not even Sans has
seen. One so blazing and deep it practically engulfed the room in it's
suffocating feeling.
“But you should know that the human is dead,” Papyrus said lowly, still holding
his hand. “You were so injured we rushed to the doctor who began to work. I ran
up to inform the king only to find he had been killed. The human king was using
him this entire time. The guards took the assassin into custody but the king
was already too far gone, dusting as we entered.” Papyrus turned dark, grip
tightening not painfully but noticeably. “That assassin, what they did to the
king...they beat him. They took a knife and cut all over his body. They even
sliced off some limbs. His hand was gone, fingers, toes, and even some ribs.
They took a serrated blade and began cutting all along his sockets, sawing them
open until the blade got stuck. They yanked out his teeth and had chipped away
every little detail of bone. They cut his nasal cavity...” Papyrus delicately
grazed Sans' own, tracing over where they cut but seeming to look right through
him. “They removed his spinous process and transverse process of each and every
vertebra.” Papyrus traced the outward notched of Sans neck. “Some bones, like
in his arms, the clavicle, their heads were sliced off. His sternum was ripped
out, his ribs pried away from his body. His pelvis was split in half, right at
the pubic arch. They grabbed his ischium, hands curling right through the
obturator foramen and they yank and yank and yanked until it snapped. And they
took some nails and placed one between each little hole on the sacrum. Then one
after the other they hammered until they were flat, cutting into his bone.”
Papyrus stopped for a moment, breathing heavily. He sounded almost like he was
happy. Retelling this tale like it was the most euphoric experience he had ever
had. Sans began to wonder who truly did the things Papyrus claimed.
“He was beaten black. You couldn't even recognize him. He kept screaming and
begging for it to end. He sounded so weak and pathetic. He was a squealing pig.
He was disgusting and vile. The shame of our kingdom I only wish he stayed
alive longer.” Papyrus' pupils lifted to meet Sans' and the skeleton was frozen
by the menacing look. Those eyes held nothing but a hate so strong he felt as
if his own was nothing. “He suffered Sans. He suffered. I watched him die. I
can tell you he did not die peacefully or with grace. He died choking on his
own blood and magic. He died screaming and whimpering. He died with tears and
snot dripping down his face like a child. He died a coward and a traitor. I
just want you to know he endured the worst pain. Until he turned to dust, until
there was nothing left to punch or kick, until fists were beating gritty dust,
he suffered. And I only wish he was alive now so you could see what was done.
So you could revel in it. So you could do just as much damage to him as he did
to you.” Papyrus brought Sans' hand to his mouth, kissing it and nuzzling it as
he exhaled shakily. “I'm sorry I can not give you that satisfaction. But please
know, he begged for death until he could no longer. I ensured it.” Papyrus
vowed and Sans didn't even know what to say. His mouth parted endless questions
and words begged to be said but nothing came out. Papyrus just smiled, kissing
his brother's metacarpals.
“Everyone knows I was with you the whole time, brother. As the guards handled
the situation with the human I was by your side. There are even witnesses. I
did nothing. And neither did you.” Sans could only blink.
“This all is probably so confusing and hard to take in, I understand that. I
just wanted to tell you the truth and give you the proof. There was no spy or
plan against him. The king was just an idiot. A fool tricked by humans. A
traitor. You were but a victim and everyone knows it.” Papyrus gazed at his
brother lovingly, squeezing the hand he held before he released it. “I just
wanted to tell you the story everyone already knows. The one that is true.”
Papyrus moved to sit next to his brother on the bed, stroking his skull.
“I know that assassin hurt you. I'm sorry I wasn't quick enough. But I want you
to know what happened will never change my view of you, ever. You will always
be my brother and I will always love you no matter what you do. What that
creature did to you wasn't on your terms. You did not consent or agree, I know
that. It was abuse, manipulation, and you were just trying to do what you
thought was right. I know that, brother. And even though everyone knows they
did nothing but do physical damage, even if they were to touch you I know you
would not be ruined because of it. You had no voice or power and the gods are
aware of that. The acts of that demonic, foul, heinous abomination do not at
all affect your purity and honor. You are as noble and pure as the day you were
born. No tainted touch could ever take that away from you. No cut or touch to
your soul will ever change you. To me, you will always be a monster to envy. A
monster the gods themselves look up to. You are so wonderful and amazing, a
gift to life and my one and the only reason to live. I love you and will always
and forever love you no matter what and I never want you to ever think I won't.
No matter what.” Papyrus leaned down and kissed Sans' forehead. Sans' soul
raced, beating so erratically it was now all he focused on.
Nothing made sense. Nothing made sense. NOTHING MADE SENSE!
“I think we should take a break for now,” Papyrus said. “I'll allow you to
think this all over.” Papyrus rose to his feet but Sans found himself latched
onto his arm, body trembling as fresh tears streamed down his cheeks.
“P-Papyrus, I-I don't-I don't understand. N-nothing makes sense! Nothing makes
any sense! I don't understand what's going on!” He whimpered becoming
borderline hysterical and Papyrus went back over to him, stroking his cheeks
and placing gentle kisses along his face.
“It's alright, Sans, everything is okay!” He cooed, holding his brother close.
“There is no need to get so emotional. Why should these lies be any different
from all the others in the past?” Papyrus questioned gaining his sibling's
attention “Sometimes we can lie so well we can even convince ourselves these
lies are real.” Papyrus smiled and rested his head on top of his brother's.
“You use to tell me that the only thing different between a truth and a lie was
the damage it caused. The one that caused the least amount of damage was the
truth. The one that caused the most was the lie. And it was your job to tell
someone what they wanted to hear and what they needed to hear. But let's switch
roles for once. I've handed you the truth, brother. It's what you and the
kingdom want to hear and need to hear. It causes the least amount of damage.
It's the honest truth and who is there to say else?” Papyrus asked but Sans
could not reply. “The king is a traitor and died like one. A war has begun and
I will lead our kingdom to glory with you by my side.” Sans tensed, head
snapping up to gawk at his brother.
“I...I-I'm-I'm-”
“Sh,” Papyrus hushed, silencing his brother with a kiss. “It's alright, my
love. I know this is a lot to take in. But you will be given ample amounts of
time to adjust to your new role. I know you will be just perfect.”
“R-Role?” Sans said breathlessly, forgetting how to breathe.
“I told you, Sans, you won't be my advisor. If I rule, we rule together as king
and queen. And as king, I have declared you to be my queen. Just like we always
wanted.”
That wasn't reality. That was fiction. That was a childhood game. Those were
childhood ideals! Sans was the worst bride! Sans would be a terrible queen!
Sans was ruined. Sans was tainted. Sans was putrid and disgusting. The fact
that Papyrus was touching him at all made him was to scream. Sans could see his
filth contaminate his perfect sibling. His sins and crimes blackening his
pristine and perfectly white bones. Sans was a whore. Sans was nothing. He was
not a queen!
“But let's rest for now. After all, nothing is technically official until the
ceremony and wedding.”
“Where...” Sans whispered pushing away from his brother. “Where is he?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Gaster.” Sans was overwhelmed. He hurt. He was confused. He needed to be
removed. He needed Papyrus to leave. Gaster always came and took the guards
away. Gaster always came and saved him. He promised he would. He said he would
always be there! He was all Sans had. He was the only one the loved him. The
only one there for him. The only one that would never leave him.
Sans needed him. He needed that stability. He needed his father.
“Where is he?” Sans panicked, scrambling to get away from his brother but
Papyrus prevented him from moving too much which made Sans struggle more. 
“Sans he is dead. I told you.”
“No, he isn't!” Sans barked. Gaster couldn't be dead! He would always be with
Sans! He couldn't die. He wouldn't leave him like his mother did. He promised
he would be better than her! That he loved him more than her! Sans just needed
to love him and he did. He loved him and he needed him so where was he?!
“Sans please, you are going to reopen your wound.”
“Where is our father?! Where is Gaster?!” Sans screamed out.
“He's dead!”
“HE CAN'T BE DEAD!” Sans shrieked, sobbing immediately after he did so.
Startled Papyrus let him go and Sans fell back against the pillows, curling up
into a tight ball as he sobbed. “He can't be gone! He can't be! He's all I
have. I don't have anyone else.” Sans wept, covering his face as his body shook
with each sob.
“Sans you have me,” Papyrus muttered, resting a hand on his brother's arm but
Sans did not register it. “Sans you will always have me.”
“No! You'll leave! You'll leave! Y-You'll get a b-bride! You picked them! You
picked them over me! You left me! YOU LEFT ME!” Sans accused and Papyrus looked
close to tears.
“I didn't want to, Sans. I said what I had to but I had a plan. I wasn't going
to abandon you.”
“He'd take you away.” Sans cried, fingers digging into his skull. “You'd leave.
I know it! You-You'd find out. You-H-He'd tell you and you'd leave. You'd leave
me like mom. He-he's all I have. G-Gaster's all I have. He p-promised he'd
always b-b-be there. He-He promised-d to be bett-better. He'd wouldn't-wouldn't
l-leave me like mom. H-He can't lea-leave me like her. I-I can't-t be l-left
al-alone. I can't-I can't be alone! I CAN'T BE ALONE AGAIN!”
Papyrus took hold of his brother and grabbed his skull forcing their eyes to
meet. His face was hard, cold even. Completely serious and almost threatening
had the small track of tears not be streaming down his face. Sans gazed at
them, so foreign and unfamiliar it frightened him.
 “You are not alone,” Papyrus told him, clear as a cloudless sky. “You will
never be alone. I will never let you go ever again.”
“Y-Y-Yo-You l-left.” Sans whimpered. “Y-You le-left m-me. Y-You were th-there
and you left me. Y-You n-never save-saved me. W-Why di-didn't y-you save me be-
before he-he did t-that. H-He broke m-me and-and you weren't there.” Sans wept
and Papyrus cried silently with him, his soul shattering at his brother's
words.
“I know. I know I wasn't there. I'm so sorry I wasn't. I am so sorry he did
that to you. I'm so sorry I was late. I am so sorry, Sans. I have failed you. I
will never forgive myself. This is all my fault and I know it is. I'm so sorry,
Sans. I'm so sorry.”
Sans let out a loud wail, latching onto his brother so deprived of love and
care. He craved it. He needed it. He thrived off it. His first memories were
his mother's arms, and he was spoiled rotten by them. He was showered with love
and attention by his mother. Kisses, hugs, and touching were so accepted and
given away as if they were some common greeting. And when his mother died Sans
lost that love. No one hugged him. No one held his hand. No one kissed his
cheek when he fell or rubbed his back when he was sick. No one touched him.
Sans had to give that love to his brother, who's small hands were poor
substitutes for his mother's arms but having nothing, they felt like the sun's
rays.
And when he finally was touched again it was in a manner that sickened him.
Gaster made Sans hate the very idea of contact. His fingers felt like spider
legs. His hugs were suffocating. His kisses were like drinking poison. Sans
didn't want to be touched but he was forced to be. Gaster touched him in a way
his mother had never and Sans hated it. He hated every second Gaster's body was
in contact with his own. He hatedit.
But when Sans returned to his room, tainted, sobbing, and afraid, Papyrus
greeted him. He'd greet him with a hug that made Sans cry. A hug so loving and
caring Sans could feel his mother's arms around him. He could feel her petting
his skull and whispering sweet nothing to him.
Gaster never stopped touching him but neither did Papyrus. For every bone-
chilling touch, there was a warm and loving one. For every memory of Gaster,
there were memories of his brother. Papyrus, who's touch alone had his soul
fluttering and mood lifted. The only monster to show Sans love when he needed
it most. The only monster who's touch did not repulse Sans to his very core.
Papyrus, the only monster who could even come close to replacing his mother.
Sans felt her even now. Latching onto the body of his brother, fists clenching
and unclenching in the fabric of his clothes desperate to get closer in anyway
he could. Papyrus' arms wrapped around him so tightly Sans felt as if nothing
could pry them apart. He felt as if nothing else existed but them in that
moment. Papyrus holding him against his chest, gently rubbing his spine as he
nuzzled their skulls together, murmuring words Sans' couldn't hear over both is
hiccuping breaths and growing exhaustion.
In that moment, Sans felt her. He felt his mother holding him like she had when
he was a child. He could hear her soul beat and smell the mixture of lemongrass
and honey. He could hear her voice talking to him, soft and gentle as she spoke
of that cottage in the woods where they'd be free and live.
Sans could not recall that last time he had a pleasant dream. He could not tell
you the last time he had slept well. He could not even say that last time he
enjoyed sleeping at all. But falling asleep in his brother's arm, thoughts of
his mother on his mind, Sans could now recall all three and possibly have them
beat.
Chapter End Notes
     This was not suppose to be this fucking long HOT DAMN!!!
     This chapter isn't as accurate as I'd like it to be but for the sake
     of plot and not dragging it on for 3 chapters I'll blame Sans' odd
     chillness at times due to shock and trying to understand what the
     hell is going on.
     You all really wanted Gaster dead. And look~ Papyrus did save the
     day! Now it's time he saves Sans from his fastly deteriorating sanity
     :D!
     Cheers for all the comments and support :)!
***** Chapter 9 *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Mentions of past abuse, mentions of past violence, injuries,
     depression, repression, verbal abuse, mental damage, unhealthy
     venting, unhealthy habits, manipulations, Sans is not a role model,
     fake emotions, and even faker smiles, anger issues,
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sans was a leech. He was a monster far past his days of youth but acted as if
he was still five. He had no independents and no self-reliance. He craved the
attention and love of those around him to remind him of his progress and
success. He needed a force to guide him and walk with him hand in hand for the
moment his was empty, he'd be lost. Alone, he was nothing. Alone, he was empty,
worthless, and weak. Truthfully, he was always those things but with a monster
to drive him he could pretend not to be. He could push out a front that they
wanted. He could be the monster they wanted him to be and he could believe it!
Sans could be exactly who Papyrus wanted him to be. Papyrus was far easier to
please than their father. Papyrus was content with a smile. Sans knew his
brother and although he couldn't understand why Papyrus wanted him at all that
wasn't what mattered. He was wanted. He was needed. Someone was there to give
him love and affection. Sans wasn't alone, and that's all that mattered to him.
Besides, Sans wouldn't ever question the king in any event. It was his job to
obey them, to please them.
Gaster may be gone but he did not need to be alive for Sans to remember his
teachings. Gaster didn't teach Sans to be dependent on him. He didn't make Sans
love only him. He tried. He tried to force Sans to become what he wanted him to
be and to mold his son into a being that would rather die than be without his
king. But Sans was only taught and remember one lesson, cling to those closest.
Please them, love them, give them everything and anything they wanted, because
without them Sans was nothing. Sans knew how to act. He knew how to behave. He
knew how to keep quiet. He knew because he was all too aware of what would
happen if he didn't.
Sans had to make the king happy. He had to.
“How did you sleep, my love?” Papyrus asked thumb traced his brother's round
face.
 Sans awoke the next morning from what he believed to be the best night of
sleep he had ever had. He couldn't believe he managed to achieve such a night
in his room but he quickly recalled two things. One, he was not in his room.
And two, that figure behind him was not Gaster. Sans rolled over to find
Papyrus awake, watching him with loving eyes and Sans had to take a moment to
remember all that happened. He was in Papyrus' room. He was in Papyrus' bed. He
was in bed with his brother. Just sleeping. Just...sleeping.
“Wonderfully,” Sans replied forcing a tired smile. He nuzzled the hand, wanting
to lean over and kiss his brother but Papyrus didn't seem in the mood for
anything sexual. “And you, brother?” Keep the conversation going. Silence
wasn't an option.
“Best night of sleep I have ever had.” Papyrus grinned, pulling Sans close to
his chest and kissing his skull. Just a kiss. Just a cuddle. Papyrus' hand
never touched his pelvis. He did not press against him, nor pant hotly on his
neck. It was just a cuddle. They were just sleeping.
“I'm glad,” Sans replied, lacing his fingers between his brother's. “You looked
like you could sleep for years.”
“Hmm, with you by my side like this I could.” Papyrus chuckled, nuzzling Sans'
skull before he shut his eyes and let out a happy sigh.
Sans didn't know what to do with himself. Papyrus was just holding him. There
was no sexual intent in any of his movements. His kisses weren't wet and
involved no formed tongue. His fingers did not wander or press harshly against
Sans' bones. He did not grind against his brother or purr and bite at his neck.
There was nothing. Nothing but innocent touches Sans didn't know how to
reciprocate.
What was he suppose to do? Just lie there? Papyrus would get bored. Should he
squeeze his hand? Kiss him? Moan? Arch his spine and rub against his brother?
Sex served a purpose. Sans didn't know what purpose this cuddling did. Sex was
a plan. He had sex, then Gaster would worship the damage he did before leaving.
What would Papyrus do now? What damage did he cause? What purpose did this
fulfill? What made this special and significant to him? How could Sans leave an
imprint on his brother proving that he was the best and only one who could
please him?
Sans swallowed thickly. Perhaps he was to make the first move. Papyrus always
worried about him. Maybe he thought Sans wasn't well enough for it.
Sans oh-so-slowly began lowering their entwined hands downward. He squeezed his
brother's hands, holding his breath and watching them slide down the bed. He'd
rest them over his pelvis, slowly moving his hips against his brother's hand to
signal he was not only okay with sex but wanting it. But right as they reached
his middle Papyrus squeezed back and moved their hands back up to Sans' ribs.
Sans clicked his teeth together, unsure how to feel about the rejection. Sans
curled his toes, arching his pelvis but Papyrus reacted instantly.
“Are you alright?” He asked sitting up with a frown. Sans felt the hand leave
his and body pull away completely and felt perplexed. “Are you in pain?”
“I'm...I'm fine,” Sans told him and Papyrus eased his worry but did not go back
to how he was. Did...did he not like Sans? Did he not find him attractive? Did
he not wish to have sex with him? Why did he pull away? Why wasn't he touching
Sans? Why wasn't he thrusting his erection between his femurs? Why wasn't
Papyrus fucking him?
“I should fetch the doctor anyways. We've slept in for far too long. You need
to be given your medicine.” Papyrus got out of the bed and Sans stared at him
with a parted mouth and widening sockets. He was walking away. He was leaving
Sans in the bed alone.
He was leaving him alone!
“Papyrus!” Sans blurted, panic rising. The skeleton stilled in the middle of
pulling on his robe alarmed by the sudden distressed call. Sans forced a
relaxed demeanor, half a smile on his face as he patted the bed. “C-Come back
to bed. All is fine, really,” Sans pressed, appearing relaxed and a little shy.
“You worry too much. You need to rest, you are working yourself too hard.” 
“I could never work hard enough when it comes to you brother.” Papyrus smiled,
finishing dressing before he went to the door and Sans felt his brother's name
form once more ready to scream.
Don't leave! Don't leave! Don't leave!
Papyrus opened the door and Sans clawed at the sheets. Papyrus stepped outside,
almost gone completely and Sans threw the covers away body practically pulled
forward and springing from the bed. The moment his foot touch the ground his
legs gave out. He had not used them properly in weeks and it showed. He lacked
the strength to hold himself up or perhaps he simply forgot how to walk.
Regardless, he came crashing to the ground with a loud thud. The breath was
knocked out him, pain blossoming in wounds he had forgotten all about. Sans was
dazed for a moment, socketed squeezed shut as his ribs, legs, arm, and spine
all cried out.
“Gods, Sans!” Papyrus cried dashing back over to his sibling. 
“H-Heh-h, I-I seem to have fallen,” Sans forced out between clenched teeth. His
laugh sounding fake and stiff, struggling to seem lighthearted when he was in
severe pain. “I-I am so clumsy. I'm sorry, Papyrus.” His brother lifted him up
and gently set him back into the bed that felt far too large and empty.
“It's alright, Sans, but please stay in the bed you are unwell.” Papyrus
pleaded, tucking his brother back in. He turned to leave once more but Sans
clung to his robe, body trembling.
“I a-am fine. Just a bit sore. Please just rest with me.” Don't leave.
“You are far from fine. Please, stay in bed while I get the guards to fetch the
doctor.” Having no choice, Sans just nodded, allowing Papyrus to removed his
hand. He was just going to get the guards. He'd be back. Sans' curled his empty
hand around the sheets, narrow pupils watching his brother closely.
When Papyrus was out of view Sans grimaced. That fall had done far more damage
than he imagined. Sans felt so stable and healed in the bed but he now realized
he was far from recovered. Sans rested his hand over his ribs, struggling to
inhale through the pain. Oddly enough, his broken bones felt like nothing
compared to the utter agony his soul was in. Sans was injured but in a way he
wasn't familiar with. He had raced out of the bed to be with his brother yet
Papyrus still left. Was he that naive? Did he just not care? Why wasn't he
staying by Sans' side? He should be by his side! What did Papyrus want from
him? Why would he touch him? Was he repulsed? Did he think Sans was tainted
sexually?
Sans ran a hand over his middle feeling the solid magic.Tears pricked at the
corner of his sockets, teeth clamped togehter as Sands resisted the urge to cry
at how stupid he was. Of course, Sans was tainted. Of course, Papyrus was
sickened by him. Sans was in his bed, healing from an abortion from a child
forced upon his brother by their father. Gaster's child was inside of Sans.
Gaster was in him. Papyrus had ordered the child's death. Sans was certain he
did not want to even look at Sans at times because of the reminder. Sans was
not his. As long as he remained injured he'd never be. Marks claimed him,
labeled him, telling all those who saw them that Sans was taken and owned.
Papyrus could not just fuck him. He couldn't just take Sans for his own.
He needed to make him his own, just like Gaster.
Sans shivered, pulling the blankets closer, trying to drown out the dull
chatter of Dr. Bwer and his brother. Sans had been rather lifeless during the
visit, lost in thought. Sans didn't like the way the doctor looked at him and
wouldn't meet his gaze. No matter what Sans seemed to say or do it didn't
please the monster but Sans knew he didn't need to. Sans just needed to please
Papyrus.
Papyrus gave Sans stability and security. If Papyrus was with him Sans was not
only safe but in power once more. Papyrus needed to take Sans but it was Sans
who desperatly desired Papyrus. Papyrus wasn't like their father. Papyrus would
listen to Sans. Papyrus loved Sans. And if Sans played his card right, he could
use that love to his advantage. 
Sans just needed to play his role. Weak princess, injured brother, devastated
lover. He needed to show Papyrus that no one could love him as much as he. He
didn't care how low he'd need to stoop. Sans was not letting Papyrus escape.
Sans would never let him go.
“Your highness you are overwhelming his soul. This isn't a matter of comfort
and his personal feelings. If you continue to destabilize him his soul could
suffer permanent damage. He could fall down at this rate, your highness,” Dr.
Bwer said softly, the two thinking Sans had fallen asleep after taking his
medication.
“I am making him stable,” Papyrus declared.
“You are bombarding him with information he doesn't need to be aware of.
Telling him about the fallen king could have shattered his soul.”
“I know my brother, doctor. He likes to be informed and he likes to be in
control. He would have been restless and disturbed if I kept this information
from him. He would have clung to that monster and he needs to know that they
are dead.”
“You are not understanding me,” The doctor stressed and Sans burrowed into the
pillows. “It's not a matter of him and what he wants. I'm aware Sans did not
care about the fallen king but the fact of the matter is that his soul did.
They were bonded.”
“I know what they were!” Papyrus hissed and Sans squeezed his sockets shut,
feeling the urge to recoil away from the anger.
“Then you should know that telling his soul that his mate is dead could and may
still cause irreparable damage.”
“They were not mates!”
“His soul says differently,” The doctor said and Papyrus was silent. Sans
opened his sockets, an icy chill shooting down his spine. “It doesn't matter
what made the bond happen. Hate or love, it happened regardless. Given enough
of either, you can believe anything. And from what I can only imagine, this had
been going on for a while. A year maybe more of this abuse is enough to crush
even the strongest of souls. Types of abuse we do not even know about fully.
You nor I know what happened, how long it has been happening, what was said,
believed, forced, nothing. We only know what we saw and we both are not dumb
enough to think that is only what happened. But I know you are smart enough to
know that wasn't the first and it might not have been the worst either.”
Sans felt his sockets string with the urge to cry.
“Sans has been dealing with this for a while, your highness. He has lied to you
and to everyone to cover it. He no doubt has been lying to himself and still
is. The fact that he smiles and acts like he is fine is proof of that. You saw
how he acted when he first woke up that is what he should be. That is the
normal reaction to abuse not this. I don't know if it is just denial or
conditioning, but given what I saw and know Sans is not well. You told me he
was loyal to the fallen king, but I do not believe it was loyalty that guided
him. It was fear and fear consumes you. Fear lasts long after the threat has
been removed, fear can be forever. Sans is afraid.”
Sans felt his body tense up, sockets starting to narrow.
“What is he afraid of? How do I make him feel safe?” Papyrus all but begged,
sounding so desperate to heal his beloved sibling.
Good. Sans needed his brother desperate.
“You can not. His fear is not at you. His fear is mental. He fears what was
told to him what he was made to fear. I don't want you two to be separated
because I believe that he does need you but, your highness, you have to be
aware of yourself.” Sans' sockets widened, shooting up to the wall before him.
“What do you mean?” Papyrus asked and Sans felt a deep frown forming on his
face, something bitter inside of him growing.
“There is a reason I didn't refer to you as the king. You aren't his king. You
aren't the king in his mind. But you told him you were.”
Lies.
“No. No! He does not think that.”
“He does not just fear a monster, your highness. He fears the position and all
that was ever associated with it. The fallen king abused his power. Guards were
by his room. Preventing anyone from coming in without his say. Sans was not
just abused by him,he was kept and hurt by the king.” Sans glared at the stone
ahead of him, his teeth grinding together. His soul felt hot, radiating a
burning emotions Sans struggled to keep contained.
“He does not see me that way. He would never!”
“And perhaps he does not mean to but that does not dismiss the fact that he
clearly does. You know what happened. He was in that room for almost a full
week. I believe anyone in his position would fear your title just as he does.”
He didn't know anything.
Sans wasn't to scream at the doctor. He wanted to grab his neck and strangle
him until he was dust. It didn't matter whether what he said was true or not.
The fact that he was poisoning his brother made Sans livid. Papyrus was his and
if that doctor thinks he can take him away he is sorely mistaken. Sans sooner
dust than let that happen.
“...What do I do, doctor?” Papyrus asked helplessly and Sans bit down on the
pillow wanting to scream.
“There is little we can do. He needs to overcome a bulk of this himself but we
mustn't feed his fear. He can not fall into his traps. Watch him closely, your
highness,” Dr. Bwer instructed. “He's lies.”
“I know," Papyrus said softly. "He lies and doesn't even know it.” Sans wanted
to laugh.
“Then it'll be your job to be able to tell that. He sounded pretty convincing
earlier when I came in. Could you tell?” Sans visibly tensed. There was no
way...
“That he lied about the pain?” No.
“Yes, but no, the injury.” No!
“He said it was is right side that hurt.”
“He fell on his left. He worsened the fracture of three ribs and two vertebrae.
But you were to his left so he wanted to face you and laid on them, making it
worse. That's why I asked you to leave the room.” THAT FUCKING BASTARD!
The door opened and the Dr. Bwer glanced back into the room and said one last
thing before he left. “He tells you what you want to hear, your highness. He
was trained to.”
Oh, Sans wanted that monster dead. Sans wanted to make him scream and feeling
his body dust between his fingers.
How dare he call Sans out like that. How dare he give away his tactics so half-
hazardly. How dare he!
Since then Papyrus had become all too mindful of his brother's ways. He caught
on rather quickly at how submissive and agreeable his older sibling was and
would always press and remind him he didn't need to be. Sans hated that Papyrus
saw that now. He hated how his smile wasn't enough to convince him. He fucking
hated that every time he saw that fucking doctor Papyrus saw deep and deeper
past Sans' defenses.
But that did not deter the monster. No, it fueled him. Sans would do whatever
it took to keep his brother in control. If Sans could convince Gaster, then he
could convince some fat mouthed doctor and his brother. He just needed to be
more convincing and use another tactic.
Papyrus may be use to his smile, but he will never ignore his tears.
“But it would make you unhappy,” Sans said boldly after Papyrus had reminded
him yet again that no was an option. Sans was getting rather tired of hearing
that. Every time he answered or said anything Papyrus would ask to ensure it is
what Sans truly wanted and Sans was fed up with their little game.
“It would not make me unhappy. I'm not a child who can't handle rejections,
Sans. A majority of the things I ask aren't even about me. They are about you
which is why your honest opinion matters.” No, it didn't. Nothing Sans said
every mattered.
“And I give it,” Sans said honestly, or convincingly at least.
“I don't think that you are,” Papyrus accused and Sans frowned, faking
unhappiness and confusion. His pupils grew wider, hands clenching and
unclenching in the sheets as he let out a small whimper.
“Papyrus I don't know what to say. I reply truthfully and you claim I lie yet
when I lie you still fail to believe me. I don't understand what you want,”
Sans looked away, sockets wet.
“It doesn't matter what I want,” Papyrus stressed trying to get Sans to look at
him but Sans refused, hiding from him.
“Well clearly it does since all I hear is I from you. There is no trust in me
and I do not know what I can do to change that.” Sans sniffed bringing his hand
up to rub at his sockets. Papyrus voice was already faltering. He was breaking.
“Sans I do trust you. I truly do but I am just worried. You are so agreeable.
You don't say no to anything which wasn't been something you were known to be
in the past.”
“I was stubborn in the past.” Sans knew he couldn't be fully innocent. He
needed to play into the doctor's role a little. He'd make it seem like what he
told Papyrus was working but then Sans would unleash the tears and hurt
feelings, faking instability and making himself seem worse than he once was.
Then, seeing that Sans was not better and in fact worse than before, Papyrus
would fire the doctor.
“Having an opinion doesn't make your stubborn. To tell me you dislike your tea
or wish for more pillows is not a selfish thing to state. I want to make you
comfortable and happy. I want to help you,” Papyrus insisted, and Sans allowed
him to cup his face his time, guiding their gazes to meet.
“I do not dislike the tea. I have more than enough pillows,” Sans whimpered,
leaning into the touch and even being so bold as to curl his fingers around his
brother's shirt.
“Those were just examples," Papyrus explained, pulling Sans closer, wanting to
comfort his discouraged sibling.
“Then what?” Sans pressed entering the next stage, the guilt and crying.
Papyrus was all too susceptible to his brother's tears. It made him weak, his
one weakness. “I feel as if you do not trust me at all. You won't believe
anything I say. I am overwhelmed. Do you not want me to speak at all? I don't
understand.” Sans shut his eyes as the tears spilled. He began to push away
from his brother but Papyrus held on.
“No, no, brother that is not what I want at all.” Papyrus quickly comforted his
brother, wiping at his tears and holding him tightly. Papyrus looked so
desperate, so crushed and small. The sight of his brother's tears had his
strong, nobel brother turning into a child. So easy to manipulate and toy with.
So not like Gaster. “I just—I'm sorry.” Already giving up. Already fallen. “I
didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just wanted to make sure you are okay. I just
want you to be okay.” Papyrus' hands fell and Sans knew it was his turn to be
the one to comfort. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against his
brother's, taking his hands into his own.
“I am,” Sans promised, face still wet with tears but he offered a smile that
shined through them. “You make me feel more than okay,” Sans told his brother
softly. He kissed Papyrus' cheeks, close to his mouth and only pulling away
enough to meet his gaze. “I don't need all this luxury treatment. I just need
you.” Sans wanted to lean forward and press their mouths together. He wanted to
lean into Papyrus' mouth, tongue forming and tangling with his brother's. He
wanted to moan as Papyrus touched him and scream as he fucked him. He wanted to
secure his place, earn Papyrus' trust.
But the skeleton pulled away. Innocent or perhaps naive, or maybe even
repulsed.
Either way Sans hated it.
“You will always have me,” Papyrus replied and Sans smiled shyly, using his
sleeve to dab at his tears.
“Then no matter what I will be okay,” Sans vowed and Papyrus kissed his
forehead and pulled him into a tight embrace.
Papyrus was easier to manipulate than Gaster. Perhaps it was due to their new
relationship but it was less tiresome for Sans. Dealing with Gaster was like
trying to walk past a sleeping lion with bells tied to your body. If you moved
or even breathed too heavily one would ring and wake him. Papyrus was like a
mother fussing over her child. The moment the child cried the mother would drop
everything and comfort them. The child could cry at and for anything and always
receive that attention and Sans was now that child. If he felt uncomfortable or
cornered he'd cry and Papyrus would drop everything to comfort him. Sans soaked
up the affection and lived for the attention. It was harder to please Papyrus
compared to their father, resulting in more arguments but Sans was happy he
always had an escape route.
Sans had to reorganize his entire mind for Papyrus. Everything Gaster loved
Papyrus hated. But everything Papyrus loved Sans no longer knew how to feel.
Sans had to lock away those emotions he felt when with Gaster. Real tears and
genuine guilt and sorrow were too much for Sans and made his brother unhappy.
Sans could only fake them, acting out his scene for as long as needed. He
needed to make it seem like he was healing. If he continued to cry for hours
he'd never gain that trust. But if he showed self-control and a breakthrough in
recovery he'd be free. He just needed to act happy, act sad, act anyway Papyrus
wanted him to on time. And Sans could manage that.
He only wished others stopped interfering with his plan.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Bwer asked, removing Sans' suppliments from his bag.
Dr. Bwer. Sans couldn't do a single thing to make this doctor smile. Ever since
his last visit Sans became aware that he needed to play the part of healing
patient with the doctor. Sans needed to lock away his utter disdain for the
monster and genuinely try to appear at least mildly interested in the doctor so
it looked like he was trying to heal. If he acted like he was trying but
couldn't get better or was stressed because of it, Papyrus would find another
doctor. One maybe Sans could manipulate.
“Much better than before,” Sans replied and the doctor just nodded.
“Your spine and a few other bones still need to heal but you are recovering
well.”
“Papyrus ensures I don't so much lift a finger. I get plenty of rest just as
you ordered. I think it is helping more than I expected.” Sans smiled shyly but
the doctor didn't seem interested. It made Sans' insides twist and curl in
hate. Nothing worked on this bastard.
“And your soul?” The doctor pressed.
“I'm sorry?” Sans asked, too caught up in his hate to hear him.
“Your soul? How does it feel?” Sans took a moment to think before he smiled.
“It feels...better. A bit heavy and a tad sore but that is to be expected,
isn't the right doctor?” 
“Any emotional outbursts or instability?”
“Papyrus says I am crying more than usual. I suppose I am as well. I wasn't
really aware of it until he pointed it out. You did say I'd be more emotional
because of what happened. I just hope it's because of that and nothing else. I
do wish to get better. If not for the kingdom then myself.” Sans smiled sadly
down at the sheets but once again the doctor seemed completely disinterested.
“May I see your soul?” Sans curled his toes but nodded.
“Of course, Dr. Bwer.” He summoned Sans' soul and looked it over, expression
blank. Sans stared at him, studying and watching for the slightest movement but
there was nothing.
“All well?” Sans asked once it was placed back within him.
“Given the situation, I suppose,” Dr. Bwer answered stiffly and Sans felt the
corner of his mouth twitch downward. “Do continue to rest and take the
supplements. Please excuse me while I speak to your brother.” Sans' pupils
followed the monster, expression bitter.
He hated that monster.
Sans never wanted to kill a monster before. He never had even thought of it.
Sans wasn't made to fight. He wasn't trained to defend himself or even to use
his magic. His schedules didn't include sword fighting and rigorous practice
with Gerson or Undyne. He wasn't a knight and he never would be. But if Sans
knew how to form a bone attack like Papyrus it would be through that doctor's
head.
He was ruining everything. Every facade and every attempt to sway Papyrus to
his side were demolished by the simple and now secret words of the doctor. The
doctor thought Sans was manipulating his brother. That Sans was healing with
his 'grief' in an unhealthy way, refusing to accept the loss and loneliness and
clinging to the next life available but Sans wasn't! Sans wasn't grieving at
all! He had nothing to grieve or feel upset about at all! He had everything he
needed and he knew that. Did the doctor want him to become some snobbish prude?
What did this cursed monster want from him?! How could he get him out of his
life? He was keeping Papyrus away from him and Sans would not have it.
He refused to allow Papyrus to be taken away. And Sans was becoming desperate.
“Brother?” Sans called late into the night, lying in bed. Papyrus looked up
from the corner where he worked on some documents Sans did not care about.
Papyrus didn't coddle him as much anymore. He kept his distance and it hurt. It
hurt.
“Yes, Sans?”
“It's rather late, are you not going to bed?” Sans asked. He put up an
innocent, almost childlike facade, pupils wide and body small. Papyrus was
easier to toy with when Sans appeared weak and defenseless.
“After I finish with this letter I will,” Papyrus said with a smile before
returning to his work.
“Letter about what?” Sans pressed.
“Nothing you need to worry about. You should rest.” Sans glared when Papyrus
didn't so much as glance up at him. His fingers dug into the pillow below
wanting to rip them open. Papyrus was also now silent when it came to
information. He didn't want to overwhelm his brother. But Sans wanted to shove
those documents into his skull.
“Papyrus?” Sans called once more.
“Yes?”
“Will you stay here with me?”
“I always do brother.”
“No, not like that. Will you sleep with me? In the bed?” Sans felt his soul
race when Papyrus stilled, socketed widening. He displayed the most pitiful
appearance he could, even wetting his sockets for added measure. Papyrus hadn't
slept in the same bed as Sans since the ordeal. He came in early, earlier than
Sans was awake so that his sibling wasn't alone when he woke up but Sans was
never one to sleep through a night. He'd lie awake empty and alone, sockets
hollow and empty as his body tore itself apart. Those demons inside of him were
clawing at his mind, at his soul. They screamed and shrieked at him as Sans
stood paralyzed, unable to move while his hollow self stared back at him.
Sans hated being alone.
But Papyrus needed to stay with him for other reason. In bed Sans could win him
over with affection and love.
“I...do not think that is a good idea.” Papyrus rejected and Sans inhaled
sharply. “You are still healing.”
“I do not break when you cuddle me. What makes this so much worse? You are not
aggressive in your sleep.”
“I would rather not risk it.”
“Please? It's lonely.” Sans whimpered, forcing tears to rise but Papyrus just
shook his head and looked back at the papers.
“I'm sorry Sans, but no.”
No? No? Papyrus didn't say no. Papyrus never rejected him! How dare he! What
the hell was Sans suppose to do?! Had his tears lost their charm? Did that
fucking doctor say something? Sans knew he did that fucking bastard. That
doctor needed to bite his tongue. Sans wanted to cut it out of his mouth! What
did they want from him?!
Sans rolled away, back to his brother as he glared ahead. His body trembled and
he told himself it was due to anger. Papyrus was an idiot. A manipulated tool.
The doctor had poisoned his brother, he was turning him against him. Sans felt
those demons within him thrash against their cage.
“I'm sorry for being so cold.” Papyrus apologized, voice snapping Sans away
from his thought. Sans felt the bed dip behind him and he quickly masked his
anger. “If you'd like I can lay here with you until you fall asleep?” Sans
wanted to reject it but he knew that wouldn't be what Papyrus wanted. He
instead sniffed, wetting his sockets before he glanced over his shoulder's at
his brother with a small smile.
“Really?”
“Of course, anything for you.”
“But you have work, Papyrus. You can't.” Sans turned away but Papyrus crawled
into the bed and pulled him close.
“That can be done another time. You always take top priority, brother.” Papyrus
kissed his skull and Sans nuzzled into it, grinning as he clung to his sibling.
“Thank you, Papyrus," Sans said softly. "I was worried you'd..." Sans stopped
himself, shaking his head and burrowing it in his brother's chest.
"Worries about what Sans? You can tell me." Papyrus pressed and Sans resisted
the urge to grin.
"I-It's silly, I'm sorry. You are right I should just rest."
"No, Sans tell me, please. I want to know," Papyrus begged and well, how could
Sans resist?
"I-...You have just been so distance recently. I...I was starting to fear you'd
lost interest in me." Sans allowed his expression to fall, waiting just until
his sockets were filled to the brim with tears before he force a laugh and
pulled away. "I am sorry, it's childish."
"No," Papyrus defended. "No it's not at all. I want you to tell me these
things. How am I suppose to know if you don't? I don't want you believing that
because it's not true. I love you just as much as I always have. Why would you
ever doubt that?"
"I-It's just that you've been so distant. You don't sleep with me, you hardly
touch me, you barely even look at me. I-" Sans sniffed, his tears spilling. "I-
I thought maybe the doctor said something. H-He doesn't ever seen happy to see
me and I-I can't help but think that I'm doing something wrong or that I'm not
getting better. A-And I f-feared you-you'd see that or-or he'd tell you and y-
you'd l-leave." Sans let out a sob, hiding his pretend shame behind his hands.
Papyrus embraced him, rubbing the back of his skull gently as he comforted his
brother.
"I would never leave you Sans. I'd sooner dust than let anyone take you away.
Nothing anyone says will ever change how I feel about you."
"I-I just-just don't k-know what to-o do, Papyrus!" Sans wailed openly, his
shoulder heaving with each sob. "I-I don't f-feel like-like I'm getting an-any
better-er. He-He just t-tells me to-to rest and-and take the sup-suppliment-ts
and-and I do but-"
"Sh, Sans, sh," Papyrus cooed, rocking his brother gently in his arms. Sans
clung to him, an absultuely devilish feeling blossoming within him. "You are
getting better, I know you are. I didn't know the doctor was making you feel
this way. I will talk to him."
"I-I just wa-want to be-be better. I-I'm trying-ing so-o hard to-to be-be like-
like before."
"I know, my love, I know." Papyrus kisses his skull, continuing to whisper
sweet things to him but Sans was in heavin. He pretended to cry and be broken
but he already won.
Although Papyrus may not have any strength to deny Sans fully, others did, not
just the doctor. Papyrus did not like to leave Sans alone, however, due to his
new position he had to. He was king and didn't have time to spend all day
fussing over his brother. Papyrus truthfully only spent his breaks between
schedules and night with Sans, the rest of the time he was kept entertained by
a slew of guest all chosen by Papyrus himself and with the approval of Sans.
After Sans' 'episode', Papyrus became even more paranoid and frantic when it
came to his brother. The doctor wouldn't come back for a few days leaving
plenty of time for Sans to mold his brother against him, and perhaps a few
others as well.
Sans usual visitor was Alphys, the meek, little, yellow lizard now the royal
advisor. She no doubt had large shoes to fill and felt incredibly anxious under
Sans' judgmental gaze. She had always been a shy monster, something the council
and Sans criticized her for. But Sans was too, once upon a time. He learned
quickly to adjust and Alphys would as well or she'd be eaten alive. Sans did
enjoy her company the most because she kept him from becoming lonely while also
keeping to herself. She'd bring in piles of work and set herself up at the
small table in the corner by the windows and work. Sans found it interesting to
watch her wondering if he looked as determined and focused as she did. She at
times didn't even hear Sans calling her until he raised his voice high enough.
Sans admired her hard work but detested her dedication.
Just like him, Alphys was dedicated to her job. She always had been in the
past, studying whenever she had a second to spare. She worked tirelessly to
ensure she'd be the best royal advisor for the new king. But that much
dedication and devotion to her skills meant she would never risk tossing it
aside for anything. The meek lizard woul turn into quite the bold creature when
it came to her job.
“What are you working on?” Sans asked, startling the lizard.
“Oh, um, just revising some letters,” Alphys replied and Sans nodded.
“What are they about? I'm sorry if I sound nosey, it's just Papyrus keeps me
uninformed on these matters. But given I am to be queen I disagree.”
“Um...” Alphys rubbed at her arm, looking everywhere but at Sans. “I cannot say
what they are about.” Sans clicked his teeth together, forcing a small smile.
“Surely they aren't that confidential. I am, queen.” Sans hated saying that.
“T-Technically you aren't.” Alphys corrected and Sans straightened his back.
“You aren't queen until you have married the king which you haven't. The
prince-Er, the king, is even not technically a king yet. He must go through the
ceremony for-”
“I'm aware of the process,” Sans muttered bitterly and Alphys flushed and look
away. 
Sans truly dispised loyalty at times. He couldn't achieve what he wanted by
talking to a brick wall. Sans wondered if Alphys was as solid as she tried to
seem. Surly someone as shy as her bended like straw.
“Yes, then you know...”
“But given the same process, unless I am misinformed, you are not the royal
advisor?” Alphys bit her bottom lip, her clawed hands digging nervously into
the table.
“N-Not publicly.” She admitted. “Though the council has officially given me the
title.”
“Oh have they?”
“Yes, due to the... sudden situation, Papyrus and I were both given given our
new titles in order to bring balance while the kingdom mourned and both
prepared for the ceremonies.”
Sans straightened his back, pupils becoming hard.
“How bold of you to use my brother's name,” Sans said stiffly and Alphys paled.
“I-I'm sorry, princess. H-He prefers-”
“Yes well, in my company I prefer respect and tradition. If he is king you will
address him as such.”
“I'm sorry, princess.”
Alphys was weak, stubborn, but weak. The kind of monster you'd think would have
no spine but in fact, hers was made of steel. Sans was hot enough to bend that
steel but it did not change what it was. Alphys was the advisor, and until Sans
was in a position higher than hers, he could not technically demand information
from her without Papyrus' approval.
Sans would need Papyrus on his side fully before he controlled her.
On the opposite spectrum, Undyne was Sans' other guest though far less
frequent. She had more of a solid and consistent schedule, arriving either
 Monday, Friday, or every other week Sunday. She too set herself in the corner
and worked or would talk and order her men from the door. Only twice so far did
she have to leave and in her place stood a maid too frightened to stop working.
Papyrus was not happy with it but once Sans told him he was fine relaxed.
Undyne didn't break or bend to Sans' command, but he knew she wouldn't. Even
when he was advisor she technically was above him. Being the captain of their
armies and future head council member when Gerson passes, she had high
standings only listening to the king or Gerson. She did respect Sans, though,
and Sans didn't dare abuse that respect knowing it wouldn't be given again.
Instead of handling Undyne, Sans allowed Papyrus to deal with affairs regarding
her, their close friendship unbreakable to even the largest arguments.
Sans now realized that meant he truly had no friendship at all with the monster
and had no idea how to handle her.
“Have you eaten?” Undyne asked, never lifting her head. Sans frowned and
glanced at his empty tray.
“I did.” 
She grunted, the room becoming silent.
Undyne was rude, but it was only because she was hardworking. She took her job
quite seriously and refused to submit or accept anything that wasn't
perfection. She wasn't one for small talk and she wasn't a fan of wasting time.
Sans however, was stuck with the monster for four hours and sometimes wanted to
do both.
“Where is my brother today?” Sans asked. Undyne was far more giving of
information though never anything detailed. She knew what was confidential and
not. Even if she were to say something she shouldn't have Sans truthfully had
no one to tell it to nor the ability to do anything about it.
“Council meeting.”
“He was there yesterday.”
“I'm sure you can imagine there is a lot to discuss.” Sans ignored her
sarcastically polite tone.
“A full day should be enough to diminish half the issues. His schedule is
poorly planned.” Alphys clearly was alrady failing at her job. At this rate
they'll need to hire two advisors to make up for her slack.
“Alphys is doing the best she can. Your brother is rather demanding when it
comes to you making schedules difficult to work around. I'm not sure if you are
aware but he visits ten times a day, that's more than average," Undyne grumbled
but Sans hardly found that a valid excuse.
“It's her job to be able to handle that," Sans said almost snobishly.
“And being it was once your job, you should be able to handle Papyrus yet, I
see that perhaps this role is just unmanageable for either of you.” Sans gawked
at the statement.
“How dare-”
“Shouldn't you be resting?” Undyne snapped not wanting to deal with Sans'
mouth. “Gods above, from the way Papyrus fusses over you I'd think you'd be
falling down but you are as bothersome and snooty as ever.” Sans glared,
turning his back to the monster.
Sans did not like Undyne. He had no control over Undyne. Sans did not like
having no control.
Sans then started to become aware of the fact that he had no control. All his
power and authority were gone now that Gaster was out of the picture. His
threats, his job, his title were nothing. He was back to being the useless
princess who never got married. He was the creature born to be married off and
bred.
Sans wondered if this was how his mother felt. He never saw the hateful looks
she claimed she received but now, now he was starting to. The looks of pity
from those who knew. The looks or hate from those forced to serve. The looks of
those below him thinking they were better. It caused something sinister to grow
inside of him. Something bitter and ugly that he couldn't shake. It wasn't
cute. It wasn't innocent. It wasn't what Sans was supposed to express and feel
in order to get Papyrus to like him but maybe he was wrong. Acting like some
spoiled brat did nothing for him. It only got that fucking doctor on his
constantly and Papyrus farther away. Even after Papyrus talked to him the
doctor apparently had something more convincing for him. Despite anything Sans
did Papyrus seemed to only believe that fucking doctor.
They didn't like him sad, they didn't like him weak, they didn't like him
happy. So fine, Sans would be upset. He'd act like everyone expected him to
act. If we was going to be queen then he'd act like the queen.
“I detest the maid,” Sans grumbled late one evening. Sans' entire day had been
nothing but utter hell. Waking up to the doctor, dealing with Undyne's smart
mouth, and watching all the servants sneer and whisper about him, Sans was done
being the princess. He was done being weak. He was done being fake.
“Which one?” Papyrus asked curiously not noticing Sans' sour mood at all.
Papyrus wasn't very observant about anything. Sans suspected that was due to
Dr. Bwer.
“The one who came in.”
“What did she do?”
“She watches me,” Sans muttered narrow sockets on the door. “She pities me.”
Sans saw their sad eyes watch him. Like they though they were better than him.
“Sans no one pities you. I did not see her even look at you.” Papyrus set a
stack of papers aside and moved another one over.
“You were working, you didn't see it. She glared. She thinks I'm useless.”
“Sans I can get a new maid.”
“They gossip,” Sans mumbled, unintentionally pouting. He was just so upset! He
could feel those hated eyes on him. He knew they were looking at him just as
they had with his mother. They thought he was just some whore, some bitch.
They'd sit around in their quarters gossiping about how miserable he'd be in
the future as queen. How he'd be just like his mother, a crazed old bat.
“Then I can get you a personal one you like, will that please you?” Papyrus
asked tiredly and Sans just looked away from him. So now he was agreeable? Now
he wanted to please Sans? Now he was listening?
“They're all useless. They hate me. They think I'm just some bossy cunt. I
heard them talking about me. They think I'm a bitch.”
“They do not!” Papyrus defended and Sans tensed. “I have never once heard them
say that.”
“You think they would say that to you?!” Was Papyrus choosing them over him?!
Was Papyrus defending those chatty cunts instead of his own brother?
That sinister feeling grew, bubbling inside of Sans.
“I have eyes and ears all around this castle Sans. No one is saying that.”
“A lot goes past you without notice.” Sans shot at his brother and Papyrus
turned away from his work, directing his full attention to his brother. He
looked tired and annoyed, not wanting to direct their emotion at his brother
but Sans was pressing all the right buttons.
“What do you want me to do, Sans? Fire the entire staff? Is that what you
want?”
“I want you to trust me!” Sans cried. “You are taking their side! You don't
listen to me!” 
“I always listen to you! I've done nothing but listen to you!”
“You only work! You aren't here to notice their looks! You can't hear them
whisper in the council's room! You aren't ever here!”
“I am here every second I can be, brother,” Papyrus said, deeply hurt and
offended by the remark. “I am sacrificing so much time to keep you company and
safe. I am doing everything I can to make you happy.”
“I'm sorry you have to sacrifice so much for me, brother.” Sans glared,
crossing his arms across his chest.
“Don't manipulate my words, Sans, you know what I meant," Papyrus said and Sans
scoffed.
“Yes, you are right, I do know what you mean. Between your words and the rumors
I hear I know exactly what you mean, brother.” Sans had no rumors, no gossip
heard. He just wanted to hurt someone. He wanted to inflict this negative
energy onto someone else. He wanted to see someone else hurt for once.
“What rumors?” Papyrus pressed and Sans wanted to smirk. Within him, he felt
that cage claw out from its hole. Its nails scrapped against the floors of his
mind, charging after the key to unlock them. To unleash their repressed
emotions in uncontrollable waves.
“Oh? I thought you had eyes and ears everything in the castle?” Sans mimicked
and Papyrus frowned, fists clenched tightly.
“You are just making things up.”
“I always am aren't I?” Sans sneered. “The little liar. Can't tell the truth
from a lie. Lives in his own head. Manipulated people!”
“Have you been eavesdropping on my conversations?” Papyrus gawked and Sans
rolled his eyes.
“Considering they are in the room, no I wouldn't call it that.”
“You were pretending to be asleep!”
“And what a wealth of information I received from that! That doctor Bwer is
quite the little snake. And so are you, Papyrus! You believed him! You believe
everyone else! You think I'm just some lying bitch! I know you do!” Sans boomed
and Papyrus rose to his feet.
“That's not what I said at all!”
“You're right brother your silence says far more. But I suppose I should be
used to that. Your absence always spoke louder than anything else.” Papyrus
visibly flinched, and Sans felt a spark ignite at the hurt expression he wore.
That hollow shell within his mind rose to its feet, staring down the demons
that threatened to take control. They charged at it close to reaching the
surface.
“You have no right to throw that at me," Papyrus said and Sans glared at his
brother.
“What are you doing here now Papyrus? Hm? Earning my trust? Preparing your
bride? What am I to you? Why are you here?” Sans asked and Papyrus looked
befuddled. 
“I'm here because I love you. You are my brother, and I love you.”
“And he was my father and he loved me but he wasn't content with that for
long.” Papyrus stepped away, expression one of utter repulse. It was as if
Sans' sentence has spat on him.
“Don't you dare compare me to him," Papyrus warned but Sans knew an empty
threat when he heard it.
“You could never be him,” Sans said coldly.
“Is that not what you want?” Papyrus barked and Sans clenched his fists, hating
his brother's ignorance!
“What I want never mattered. But I have a strong hunch that it is what you
want.” Sans declared and Papyrus went rigid. Sans saw his brother's face start
to become red and felt himself started to recipricate the feeling. “Why else
are you here? Why else would you care about me?” 
“I have told you why. I have told you time and time again why!”
“You know what happened. You know what he did. You know what I did. Why are you
still here? Stop lying to me and tell me the truth!”
“That is the truth! There is no other truth!”
“Liar! You do not love me! You could never love me! He raped me! He took me! He
soiled me forever! My soul! My life! Are you not repulsed? Does it not sicken
you that our father did this and I begged for it?”
“I know you didn't have a choice!”
“You think I didn't? Of all those times it was just the two of us. Of all the
times I was with the council or even with a maid. You really didn't think I had
a choice to ask for help?” Sans challenged and Papyrus inhaled deeply.
“You were afraid.” Sans shook his head, a hollow grin spreading across his
face.
“I wanted it," he hissed. "The bond is proof of that. He fucked me and I
enjoyed every second of it.”
“Sans stop it," Papyrus demanded but Sans couldn't. The demons within him
finally reached the surface, standing before his hollow self.
“Why are you here?” Sans asked louder. “Where is your bride? Why aren't you
ruling? Why do you waste your time fussing over your father's whore?!” The
shell was strong, years of repression making it's bones like steel. 
“You are not his whore!” Papyrus defended.
“I am his in more ways that you could know.” Sans sneered.
“That is not true. You do not love him. I know you don't.” 
The demons scartched against its bones, screeching as they bit, clawed, and
damaged all they could however they could.
“That means nothing. Love doesn't exist. Love is a childish dream.”
“You do not believe that.”
The demon stomps down, pressed the hollow shell into the ground with a
sickening grin as it clutched the key. The shell watched in fear as the
creature gloated inserting the key into the lock.
“Oh, why wouldn't I? Because of our whore of a mother? A bitch who dreamed up
fantasies instead of accepting her fate? Because of you? My brother? We were
never in love. You never loved me and I never loved you. I used you. I used you
as an escape until I accepted my fate. And you accepted yours. I know you
picked a bride. I know you gave up on that childish dream of marrying me. Love
doesn't exist!”
“I do love you!” Papyrus cried stepping closer to his brother. “I tried to save
you!"
Click.
Sans twitched. His pupils shrunk to narrow slits as all of his emotions left
him. For a moment, he forgot where he was, who he was arguing with, and what it
was about. For a moment, he didn't even know who he was. For a moment, things
were silent and made sense. But then a shadow cast over him. A shadow that grew
and grew and grew. It grew taller than the castle, practically blocking out the
sun. It stood before his hollow self and before Sans and grinned. For a moment
Sans felt genuine terror before it fled. In its place stood an emotion he had
practically forgotten the name for.
It was so bitter, so hot. It made Sans' face crunch up as if he had eaten a
lemon. It made his body tense and tremble so badly it was like he stood outside
naked during the winter blizzards. But he felt hot. He felt boiling. His face
was bright red, pupils blazing with rage. With unyielding, ill managed,
repressed, and uncontrollable rage! Sans was furious! Gods, he was filled to
the brim with this corrupting, black, burning, hate.
And he wanted to unleash it upon everyone.
“You condemned me!” Sans hollered, voice dripping with venom. Papyrus' mouth
parted, sockets widening as he looked upon his sibling. “The moment you
rejected that bride you cursed me. This?” Sans gestured to his body and Papyrus
followed his hand. “This is your fault. Every cut you did. Every mark your
fault. Every scratch, dent, burn, and bruise all because of you! Everything he
ever did to me was because of you and your fat fucking mouth! All because you
couldn't bite your fucking tongue for two seconds! All because you think your
opinion mattered! IT DIDN'T! You were just a prince! A spoiled, rotten, little
shit of a prince! You only proved time and time again that I am USELESS! I
raised the most disrespectful and ill-tempered king in history! The council
hated me! Gaster hated me! Everyone in this castle HATES ME! Every time you
spoke out against our father you might as well have fucked me then and there!
It would at least have prepared me for the beating he gave me because of you!
You stupid fucking idiot!” Sans screamed out as loudly as he could. Papyrus
stood there like an idiot, mouth open and expression guilt-ridden and Sans
hated him. Sans truly, and honestly hated him.
“All of this is your fault,” he sneered, tugging on the fibers of the sheets
wanting to break and destroy everything he could. “Everything bad in my life
was your fault. Since the moment I found out you were inside my mother, I hated
you. Every since that day you have been the source and cause of all my misery.
All of my sufferings is because of you. It's your fault mom died! It's your
fault Gaster hates me! It's your fault he raped me! It's your fault he beat me!
It's your fault he broke me! It's your fault he bonded with me! It's your fault
he impregnated me! It's your fault the council hates me! It is your fault my
title and everything I was is ruined! Everything is your fault! I HATE YOU! I
FUCKING HATE YOU!” Sans shrieked face red with anger his ribs aching for the
force of his voice. It left him panting, but far from exhausted. Sans' anger
was not even close to being depleted.
"And every single time I look at myself I'll know you did this to me. Everytime
you fuck me I will be thinking of him. When you force your soul onto mine I
will only remember his. When you stuff your seed within me I will only remember
his baby. Everytime I look at you, I will only ever see him. You're his son.
You tried to deny it for so long, but you are just like your father. And I can
only pray you meet the same fate as him."
Papyrus stood shocked. He appeared weak as if every word Sans said cut him and
he was now bleeding out. He looked completely destroyed, tearing his pitiful
gaze away from Sans' hateful one. He was crying, looking so fragile as if a
gust of wind would dust him. 
Sans felt nothing. 
Papyrus took everything Sans ever loved away from him. Papyrus ruined his
life. 
“I'm sorry,” Papyrus whispered head bowed like some pathetic dog.
“I hate you,” Sans repeated in a softer but just as bitter tone. “I wish you
had died instead of mother.” Papyrus squeezed his sockets shut. "I wish I could
go back and kill you myself. At least then her spirit wouldn't have to rest
uneasy with the shame of having you as her son."
Papyrus was silent, offering only a small nod, not daring to meet Sans' gaze.
“I do too,” Papyrus said softly, threatening to break down at any moment. “I'm
sorry,” Papyrus whispered once more before he left leaving Sans alone.
And for once, Sans enjoyed it.
Chapter End Notes
     "Well geez author, you sure are popping these bad boys out left and
     right!" Haha, I sure am aren't I? *Ignores piles of life problems to
     write skeleton fanfic*.
     Oddly enough I want this chapter to be split because I was tired of
     editing monster chapters but I hated how it looked so hey, longer
     chapters. But you lot seem to enjoy that so I suppose it works out. I
     also sadly can't ignore my life problems anymore so the rapid chapter
     release you've been receiving will slow down. But hey! Long chapters,
     am I right? I love 'em. Makes me feel like 1 day of writing and 10
     days of ignoring a chapter not wanting to edit it validates
     everything when it's over 10,000 words.
     Also, if Sans feels rather stiff or acting oddly it is for a reason.
     If you couldn't pick up on it, he repressed a lot of his emotions.
     Sans first thought when feeling something like anger or jealousy or
     anything in that nature isn't to acknowledge it but to repressed/
     ignore it. He tries to equate this feeling to something he can
     understand, question, and overcome but that's not exactly how
     emotions work. His prime target is getting what he wants thinking
     that if he has what he thinks is stability and security all this
     confusion and feelings he refuses to accept with go away. This would
     be explained in future chapters but I realized Sans' behavior may
     seem unjust to those who don't study mental behaviors and illnesses
     in their free time *sweats*.
     Thank you guys again (and forever) for the response :)! I'm sorry if
     I don't respond to you all. I just find myself afraid of sounding
     awkward/repetitive. Words fail me when they aren't in the form of
     Undertale fanfic. I could write you a novel about these skeletons.
     But when it comes to replying to one common I am speechless. Still,
     feel free to question/panic/freak out whenever. I'll try to be more
     responsive *sweats*.
***** (Reuploaded) *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: Emotional instability, slight violence, struggles of
     previous abuse.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
It was hard to be logical when someone is also emotional. The two often fought
with one another. Logic was always preferred until it was too harsh. Sans often
found out that logic tended to be harsh. Everyone claimed they wanted the truth
but when they received it they couldn't handle it. Logic is the blunt and
hurtfully honest truth. Emotions like guilt and empathy often make us ignore
the harsher truths in favor of sugar coating them. Even if it wasn't fully a
truth or a lie, the individual is happier so all is well.
Sans didn't like either choice. Emotions were strange to him. They were
controlling and distracting. They were never one but several layers that took
days to filter through and sort out. Emotions were like riddles to him. Sans
was never good with puzzles or riddles. Papyrus thrived in that area of mental
strategy which is perhaps why he was so emotional. Sans loathed it well aware
of his weakness but as far as he was concerned no one truly understood
emotions. The sorrow he could be feeling could be sadness but maybe guilt or
even anguish. The burning could be envy, hate, rage, or annoyance. Then the
game of picking out the correct one resulted in negative consequences. So maybe
he was guilty. Why would he be? What caused it? Why did he feel like this?
Memories of his actions would arise to conjure even more emotions. It was a
trap. A trap he hated falling for and Sans knew he couldn't be the only one.
Logic was his preferred method but that seemed to be biased which meant it
wasn't true logic. What Sans knew to be the logical choice turned out to not be
at all. Acting the opposite of it failed too. Sans couldn't act as if
everything was fine because that made everyone unhappy. But, if he acted as if
everything wasn't fine that also made everyone unhappy. Was there a balance he
was missing? Some thin line between the two that pleased all parties? What made
his brother happy made the doctor unhappy. Whatever force made the doctor happy
made no one happy. What made Undyne, Alphys, or even the maids happy were all
different as well. If Sans pleased everyone no one was happy. No one understood
emotions, there was no logic to them.
So logic wouldn't work but then what had he done before? Had pleasing Gaster
truly meant all that power? Was he as far and high in the kingdom because of
his ability to please his king? Sans' lies and truths swayed any monster so why
now did they fail? What difference was there? The truth of what happened with
Gaster meant little in terms of Sans' standing and skills. If anything it
proved how impeccable they are. So why was logic failing? 
Emotions failed and logic failed. Perhaps there was a balance between the two.
Sans didn't like feeling emotions, but he could manage to force them out. His
mask was removed but perhaps from it's shattered remains he could piece
together new ones. Different ones instead of one thick one. But what emotions?
What did logic offer? Honesty? Truth? Logic was the best and most knowledgeable
choice. The one that worked best with the end goal desired.
Which was…?
Normality. A life like once more. But that wasn't a single goal. That was a
multiple step one. So he would need to break it down. What did Sans need to
achieve normality? Well first, he needed Papyrus to trust him. The only way to
acquire that was earning that doctor's trust. No easy task, in fact, one Sans
didn't even know where to begin on, if even possible. He had no idea what the
doctor wanted from him and he offered not even the smallest of hints.
Perhaps normality was a poor start.
Sans was clearly rusty on his skills. He was overwhelmed and emotional. He
couldn't think logically nor act logically in such a state. He needed to
rebuild himself. He needed to rise back up and not just fake his former glory
but achieve it once more. Sans now was wide open and far too easy to manipulate
and set off. He needed defense. He needed his walls and his mask.
That damn emotional side however refused silence. Sans' past defense methods
were always rationalization and reasoning. If something troubled him he could
think it over and stop those emotions from coming out but with them already
here how could that work?
Perhaps that was the start he needed. New defenses. New defenses meant new
walls, new walls meant stability and safety, stability and safety meant a
steady ground, and with a steady ground, Sans could be himself. Or at least the
monster he needed to be, which was all he wanted to be.
What other ways were there to be defensive, though? Well, Sans has spent quite
a fair bit of time observing others for his own manipulative gain. Defense
methods were easily used. Once the wall was up he just needed to play into it
for the walls to be lowered. Gaster used anger as a defense method. To counter
it Sans submitted allowing Gaster's rage to be subsided and pleased. Papyrus
too had a temper but not like their father's. Papyrus got overwhelmed when
defensive and at times too smart. He'd quickly rationalize his emotions and
form a logical reasoning to them that would mask his feelings or resolve them.
Sans in the past had always managed to be that logical reasoning. He'd slip
into his brother's mind right before the dots were connected and place his own
conclusion inside.
Emotions seemed to be an effective defense method and one Sans began to realize
was in his favor. Everyone thought him ill and unstable. Even if he refused to
believe so it offered him a chance to be it. Play into it as he built up his
walls. Everyone was swayed by their emotions, why should Sans be so different?
Even now as he thought, he thought because of his emotions. Sans knew that. He
just rejected the emotions everyone accused him of feeling.
He wasn't angry he was just mildly annoyed. 
He wasn't depressed he was simply bored.
He wasn't repressing anything he was rationalizing.
There was no denial only acceptance. The only thing Sans denied was what he
knew wasn't true. 
Sans wasn't mourning, grieving, depressed, angry, or in denial. He certainly
had control over what he felt and did. He most definitely wasn't reacting this
way irrationally. He wasn't irrationally rationalizing because of his fear of
losing control over his emotions. He has control. He was doing it on purpose.
There was no fear. He knew how to use his emotions. He was without a doubt,
most absolutely, positively, no hesitation whatsoever in complete and total
control over what he was doing and feeling.
Sans had control. Sans had control. Sans had control.
He was...He was just rusty.
Just rusty. 
“Sans?” Dr. Bwer called and Sans snapped out of his daze. His pupils returned
to his once hollow sockets now wide and trembling before they shrunk and were
quickly narrowed in a look of annoyance. “You are awfully quiet today. Is
everything alright?” The doctor pressed, looking Sans over with that gaze of
his. Calculating. Observing. As if he knew everything Sans was thinking and
feeling. Oh, how the skeleton loathed this monster.
“You're the doctor. It seems as if you should be telling me that,” Sans replied
coldly, playing off his spacey behavior. They expected him to be angry and
unstable so he would be. Perfectly normal reaction. He was acting as he should
be. In control.
In control.
“I can't heal what I can't see, Sans. I can only observe and take note. And
I've noted that you aren't as talkative as usual.” Sans sneered at the monster,
looking away in disgust.
“Why bother speaking? You never listen. You never tell me anything. What's the
use of indulging in pointless chatter when whatever I say is ignored and
everything I asked is rejected? You'll leave here and tell Papyrus all about
how unwell I am. And I will sit here uninformed on my own body and how it is
healing or when it will be better. So why don't you just shut your fucking
mouth and finish up here and run along to Papyrus and tell him all about how
close to death I am.” Sans stared ahead of him, fully ignoring the doctor now.
“Well, I think you are recovering quite well, Sans,” The doctor admitted and
Sans scoffed.
“Oh yes, I'm quite healed aren't I?” He mocked. “Broken soul, formed middle,
but goodness me my bruises are all gone so I must be healed! Can't overwhelm my
soul though. Oh no no, that's why everything must be kept secret. I don't need
to worry about anything else. How silly of me to look deeper, I should know
better.”
“I will be happy to go over your soul and middle with you, Sans. But you'd find
what I have to say to be repetitive.” Sans wanted to slap Dr. Bwer. The smug
little prick. Gods above he hated that monster.
“Yes, let me mourn the death of my rapist and unborn child!” Sans spat and Dr.
Bwer sighed heavily, collecting his things. 
“Anger is normal in the grieving process.” Sans snapped his neck to the
doctor's direction, sockets blazing as he bared his teeth.
“I'm not grieving!” Sans shouted slamming his fists on the bed and Dr. Bwer
glanced at him with a blank expression. His hands hovered over his open bag and
he sat back up, resting them on his lap.
“Have you ever dealt with grief before, Sans?” Dr. Bwer asked with that
expression on his face. That expression Sans knew all about. The one that
studied him. The one that was trying to get answers. Sans wanted to peel the
skin off of his face and nail it to his front door for the doctor's family to
see. That monster just made him so irrationally and uncontrollably-
 No! He was just playing the part. Just playing the part.
“Your mother passed away when you were young. Do you recall how you felt?” Sans
visibly tensed, pupils shrinking to pinpricks.
How he felt? How he felt?! Sans was devastated when it happened. He was ruined.
He was depressed and inconsolable. He could only cry for days, unable to leave
his room or eat. He felt empty and cold, not a single monster comforting him.
The sheltered life he had was ripped away from him and he had no one to love or
be loved by. He only had a fussing infant responsible for her death. For month
Sans felt nothing just utter agony, crying every day and refusing to listen to
anyone. He to this day could not recall such pain, even with all that happened.
A pain that would still remain to this day...
Had Gaster not came and took it away. He helped him. Showed him the cage and
gave him a key. Inside Sans placed his grief and locked it away. He locked
everything away.
“That is nothing like this!” Sans spat, visibly trembling before him and Dr.
Bwer frowned.
“Why are they so different?” Dr. Bwer wondered and Sans clenched his fingers in
the sheets, sockets narrowed to slits. “Grief is the same, though the bonds and
length may differ. It's all handled the same way. So what makes this so
different? Do you feel less pain? Maybe even more?”
“Get out,” Sans demanded with an icy tone. This doctor wasn't backing away.
He'd see his cracks. He'd see his weak wall. He'd know and expose him. He was
trying to but Sans wouldn't let him, oh no. He'd sooner dust then grant this
monster the satisfaction of breaking him.
“Repressing and rejecting your feeling will only make them worse,” Dr. Bwer
pressed and Sans felt a part of him twitch at the remark. One that had his
entire body still and mind silent all except for one voice that screamed.
That is the only way to survive!
“Get out!” Sans shouted launching a pillow at the doctor who ducked to avoid
it. “Get out! Get out!! Get out!!!” Sans shrieked throwing everything he could
at the monster. The pillows collided into various things, knocking over
candlesticks, decorations, and items on the nightstand. They all crashed and
clattered as they hit the floor the sound loud enough to alarm anyone in the
hall. Dr. Bwer snatched his back and narrowly missed the flying object as he
backed away from his patient. The door flew open, Papyrus standing by with two
guards. 
“Remove Dr. Bwer!” Papyrus ordered and the guards swooped down and removed the
doctor from the room in seconds. Papyrus remained, hands held out to calm his
fuming sibling. Sans stared with empty sockets, panting heavily as he watched
the monster before him. “Sans everything is fine, the doctor is gone,” Papyrus
told him but Sans just sat panting and glaring daggers at his brother. 
“Get out!” Sans barked.
“Calm down, please. Tell me what happened,” Papyrus pressed, advancing forward.
Something clawed at Sans' soul, festering and burning in a manner that filled
Sans with unknown emotions. Nameless feelings that caused his soul to race and
breathing to pick up. He was completely tense yet trembling like a leaf. His
sockets were wet and pupils nonexistence. These feelings!
What were these feelings?! 
“I said get out!” Sans barked, curling in on himself in a desperate attempt to
hide. He felt trapped and cornered. Wanting to scream but he didn't know in
what manner. He couldn't control his body or mind. He had no control.
“Sans, let me help. Did he hurt you?” Papyrus stepped just an inch too close
and Sans felt his entire body rush forward. He swatted at his brother, the slap
echoing in the room. They were both left staring, not so much as a whisper in
the air. Papyrus' sockets widened, hand lightly clutching his cheek as he
stared at his brother in complete shock. Sans' hand stung, body shaking
uncontrollably, mind silent yet screaming. Despite all he felt and all that
happened around, he raised his hand again. Papyrus saw this and took a step
back. He watched Sans and Sans stared back.
The silence grew for minutes before Papyrus lowered his hand.
“I'm going to give you some time to calm down,” Papyrus announced before he
turned and left the room.
He had control.
Sans had control.
Everything was just too much at times. Everything just overwhelmed him and
caused him to react. He needed to distance himself again. Needed to stop
letting this anger consume him. He needed to focus his attention elsewhere. But
where? He had no distractions. He had no method of occupying his time and mind
he was only trapped in his damn room!
This room. Papyrus' bedroom. A room Sans had honestly been in a handful of
times before. He didn't know it too well. It looked like the rest of the rooms.
smooth stone floors and walls, a door on the far south wall and windows on the
far north. If Sans remembered the room to the left was a personal closet and
the room to the right was an office Papyrus never used. Papyrus' room was
larger than Sans', but he figured as much. It had a large bed fit for multiple
people, a smallish dining set next to the far right corner, another even
smaller one near the center. Both always had some form of drink and food even
though no one touched them. The far right wall held a bathroom while the left
was used for clothes. The furniture was all made of walnut wood, dark in color.
The rug over the stone floors was a deep red, similar to the rest of the
interior of the wing. Truthfully there was nothing in this room that reminded
Sans of his brother. Then again there was nothing in his room that reminded him
of himself.
Sans recalled his mother's room always having books in it. Whenever he entered
he could feel her personality and interests and see them in the items littering
the area. No personality or telling signs were in these rooms. 
It was dull, suffocating, and just like his own room. Despite that, Sans found
his eyes raking over the room again, now noticing the furniture had a little
more design carved into it. Lines, waves, and even floral types designs carved
into it skillfully. The rug was more of a burgundy, with white and gold designs
matching the items of the room. There were five windows, each with curtains
matching the rug and gold rope tasseled holding them open during the day. The
far wall had over one hundred stones. No, he had miscounted. 
One hundred and one.
No.
One hundred and two.
No.
One hundred and three.
No.
One hundred and-
                                      ~*~
“Sans?” Sans stared ahead, expression blank and sockets empty.
Papyrus entered looking like death itself. His sockets were darker than normal,
clothes ruffles and askew. He looked more like a homeless monster than a king.
Papyrus looked onto the room and frowned at the food Sans didn't touch. It was
delivered twenty minutes ago by a maid but Sans didn't so much as blink during
the exchange. It still sat, hot and ready due to the magic but Sans had even
less interest in it than before.
 “You aren't eating,” Papyrus noted with a soft tone.
Sans blinked and his pupils returned. They were almost normal minus being
slightly larger and a bit faded.
“I'm not hungry, brother. Perhaps tomorrow morning,” Sans replied with a hollow
smile not removing his eyes from the wall. Papyrus saw through him, Sans knew
he did. He was covered in cracks, not that those mattered. His execution was
poor but that didn't seem to matter. No, it required too much work, unneeded
work, to be convincing. His actions never convinced anyone anyways. He just
needed a voice. The voice said words. That was all.
That was all.
“You know you need the magic, at least drink the tea,” Papyrus pressed,
waltzing over to his brother.
“Perhaps later, I'm really not hungry.”
“Would you like something else to eat?”
“No, this is fine. Do not worry, brother. I'm just not hungry right now.”
“Not even for a bite?” Sans felt his finger twitch, curling around the sheets.
“Not even a crumb.”
“What if I had the kitchen make you some stew? You love stew.”
“I don't think I could even eat that.”
“Just half of your roll? A bite of potatoes?” Papyrus stabbed a small half of a
potato and held it up but Sans didn't make any move to do anything but stare
straight ahead.
“I'm not hungry right now.” Papyrus felt flustered, gripping the fork tightly
as he glanced down at the untouched meal and then back up at his sickly
brother.
“P...Please just-”
“I said I don't want any of your food!” Sans shouted tearing his gaze away from
the wall and onto the tray of food. He slapped the end of the tray knocking it
over onto the floor. The dishes chattered, metals items clanking and clattering
loudly. The food splattered across the floor and everything near it staining
the carpets and rugs below. Sans glared, panting down at it. Papyrus stared as
well, his shoes speckled in a few drops of food and tea.
Something shifted in Sans. His bitter expression and burning rage melted away,
a void look taking over.
“I'm sorry,” Sans announced, anger vanishing. “I'm not hungry,” Sans said,
ignoring his outburst completely, instead, returning to staring ahead and not
acknowledging his brother at all. Papyrus stood having a thousand things to say
but saying none. He simply set the fork down on the table and took a step back
from the mess and his brother.
“I'll have a maid come clean this up,” Papyrus said softly, leaving the room
with Sans staring ahead at the blank wall with hollow sockets.
Two-hundred and fifty-six.
...No.
Two hundred and-
                                      ~*~
There's no better word to describe his brother than unstable. Papyrus tried to
find another word. He browsed the vast library, asked the opinion of numerous
individuals, he even prayed but no word seemed to come. No word nicer, no word
more stable. Sans was simply unstable.
He had no control over what he felt. Papyrus even wondered if he even was
aware. If he knew what he was doing and acting. Did he know his word so were
hurtful and actions so violent? Was he aware of how long he stared at those
walls ahead? Was he even aware he was even awake?
Gazing upon his brother this morning, Papyrus only grew increasingly more
worried.
Sans seemed to have two moods now, anger and numb. If Sans wasn't screaming,
punching, or throwing a fit he was staring ahead or at the floor void of all
emotion. Both were discerning and upsetting. Each passing day revealed a new
layer and side to Sans that Papyrus had never seen before. Sans had always been
calm and collected. He was never surprised or overwhelmed. He was the picture
perfect example of royalty in more ways than one. Always prepared and elegant,
never late, always able to hold a conversation, never wavering or weak, perfect
manners, grace and beauty in all he did, the intelligence and knowledge to win
any argument, Sans was perfect in every way. But now, Papyrus feared to let his
brother outside his room, unsure if the staff would even recognize him. Papyrus
couldn't recall a single time his brother was anger at him or in tears. Not
until this incident occurred. It disturbed him more than anything. Papyrus
wondered how long Sans had been keeping these feeling locked away. How many
times did he lie to him? How many times did Sans feel something he didn't
express, instead choosing to smile or excuse himself. Sans lied. Sans lied so
much Papyrus found himself questioning what could be true.
Or how much of it wasn't.
“Papyrus, sir,” Alphys muttered hesitantly not wanting to disturb Papyrus'
train of thought but needing too. The skeleton looked up at her, lowering the
folded hands he was using as a headrest and setting them on the small desk
before him.
“Yes, what is it, Alphys?”
“Your meeting with council member Gerson begins in ten minutes.”
“Thank you, I'll make my way over there.”
“The carpenters also have the wood flooring designs available for you to pick
now. Do you want to look them over on your way?” Alphys set the papers down on
his desk neatly and Papyrus glanced over them.
“I thought you said it would be stone?”
“For the bedroom, yes, but the office can be wooden if you wish.”
“I'd rather both rooms be burned,” Papyrus muttered looking over the designs
for the new king's quarters and office. “Do we have no other spare bedroom
suitable for a king?”
“Yes, however they are in the east wing or rather far from other key locations.
I can speak to the designers and have them look into a new room altogether.”
Alphys offered, looking a bit exhausted saying it and Papyrus sighed.
“For now just redo the rooms he used. I don't want it recognizable. This castle
had sections of unused areas, there is bound to be a better one than this wing.
I'll look into a new location myself. It's not top priority right now. What
about those letters I asked for? Do you have them?”
“Undyne is still working on them, sir. She said they should be done by the
meeting.”
“They need to be or else. I have the council bitting at my pelvis over this
treason business. With no evidence, I can't convince them.”
“I'll tell her to hurry.”
“Please do,” Papyrus said gesturing for Alphys for following and handing the
design papers back. “Tell them to use their best judgment. My only request is
it's brand new. If I do decide to have a new room I do want these to look nice
and my taste in design is horrific.” Papyrus admitted walking down the long
hallway with Alphys scurrying after. “Also did you find those letter Sans wrote
yet?”
“Yes, I sent a few over to Undyne.”
“That doesn't take priority yet either. We don't need to get Sans involved for
now. As far as the council knows, he was innocent and a victim. I want to keep
it that way for as long as possible. Perhaps if Sans gets better he can perhaps
help but for now, focus on the other letters.”
“If, sir?” Alphys repeated and Papyrus paused in his footing.
“When ” Papyrus corrected with a deep frown. “When.”
“Did the doctor say something?” Alphys pressed and Papyrus shook his head,
walking faster.
“Nothing I don't already know,” Papyrus mumbled.
“Oh!” Alphys chirped suddenly, stopping at the top of the stairs Papyrus was
already halfway down. He paused noting she wasn't following and turned around.
“Your portrait, when do you want it started?” She asked and Papyrus turned
slightly to stare at the large empty wall in the middle of the grand stairway.
It was now one tone, once faded from where Gaster's old portrait hung.
It was one of the first things Papyrus removed. Personally impaling it with a
sharpened bone he dragged down the entire length before setting it ablaze piece
by piece in a fire. Papyrus demanded everything Gaster so much as touched be
destroyed or redone. All his clothes were burned, unneeded items destroyed,
rooms remodeled, and personal staff removed and or rotting away. Papyrus still
sat by the open fire in the dining area some nights, personally choosing to
burn everything himself, watching everything that monster treasured and prided
himself for owning be burned. It was all he could do now to ease his never
ending anger and sorrow.
“When Sans is better we shall do it. I do not want one done without him.”
Papyrus said to Alphys turning away from the wall.
“It's tradition for it to be the king only,” Alphys noted but she already knew
it was unwanted.
“Nothing about this situation is traditional, Al,” Papyrus told her. “I also
want one done for you and Undyne as well. You can arrange those if the painter
gets's fussy.”
“M-Me?!” Alphys flushed and Papyrus offered a small smile nodding his head.
“Undyne will get hers as Gerson had. And you will be honored for the dedication
and hard work you and other advisers before you have done. No king can manage a
kingdom alone. I may be the face, but you are the brain. I think it's only
fitting you be credited, so dress nicely,” he said with a growing smile before
he descended the rest of the stairs and out of sight leaving Alphys flushed.
The room Gerson requested they meet in wasn't too far, only the third door to
the left of the hall. Papyrus entered with a knock and Gerson was already
seated with a cup of tea.
“Late,” Gerson grunted.
“On time,” Papyrus corrected.
“A king should be first. If he isn't, he is late.”
“You arrived twenty minutes early. I can't waste my day waiting.”
“Sharped tongue, your highness,” Gerson said and Papyrus made a face at the
name. “Sit.” The turtle gestured and Papyrus did.
“You requested the meeting, council member, do start it.”
“It's been nearly three and a half weeks.”
“Has it been?”
“Don't play dumb with me. You know exactly why I requested this meeting.” In
truth Papyrus did but he did not want to admit it. “The people need a king,
Papyrus. You need to be crowned.”
“I technically was.”
“There are traditions to uphold. One's not even you or I can break.”
“I do not intend to. I would just like a little more time.”
“How much do you need? I've talked with that doctor, he claims Sans is healed.”
“He-”
“We can not delay this ceremony so that you can coddle him. If he is well and
good then there is a wedding to plan.”
“Sans isn't ready.”
“So the doctor lied?”
“No, he...”
“I understand what happened must have been traumatic for him but he will be
safe. No human will even be near the area and there will be more guards than he
can count.”
“That's not the issue.”
“I see no issue. And if I continue to then in two days for our next meeting I
will announce preparations begin.”
“He can't go, Gerson.”
“Why?” Gerson demanded.
Papyrus had tried his best to keep Sans' injuries private. They truly
interfered with his plan. The council believed the human assaulted Sans but
didn't rape or damage him too badly. Despite the being far from the truth,
Papyrus was hoping Sans would be far along in recovery by the time they started
asking more questions. However now with Sans worse than before and the council
demanding answers, Papyrus couldn't lie anymore. And truth be told if there was
any member he'd like to confess to, it was Gerson.
“His...the doctor was told to without information on my word. It is true Sans'
body has healed however not everything. The human damaged his soul.” Gerson
frowned. “That's why he can't attend or be seen or anything I keep delaying.
His soul was damaged and in horrible condition. He can't handle the ceremony,
he can't even get out of bed.”
“You did not inform us he was that hurt.”
“I was hoping he'd recover faster so I wouldn't have to. He isn't comfortable
discussing it. I didn't want him to be exposed like this.” Papyrus half lied
but Gerson seemed to buy it, sighing heavily as he leaned back.
“Even still, we can't delay this forever. We can perform the ceremony for you
and postpone your wedding but I can't allow him ample amount of time to heal
fully. He'll attend the ceremony and leave but he must attend. He is your only
remaining family. It's customary for the family to-”
“Can't he just rest? Given he is my only family I do not want to loose him.”
“It's a small speech, Papyrus and a few tokens of gifts. I can even bestow the
crown if he cannot walk but he must attend. Those are rules I dislike but ones
I have been outnumbered by time and time again. Any living family must attend,
the people need to see that. I can offer you one more week, but nothing more.
Not for the ceremony. The other members have already set their minds on it. Not
even my word can outweigh their vote. I can buy you small time but unless
something extreme happens I have no choice but to agree with them.” Gerson
informed Papyrus who looked defeated but he couldn't lie and say he didn't
expect this.
“Can I have a carriage on call? The moment he is done I want him back in bed.”
“We can arrange that,” Gerson agreed.
“And I want him with me at all times. No one else.”
“I can see what I can do.”
“Fine,” Papyrus agreed reluctantly.
“Thank you for being agreeable. Believe me Papyrus, we never want to enforce
these things. I had to in the past and I truly was against it as I am now. It's
why I came to you, to begin with. Although we may act differently in the
council room, outside we are monsters with souls. I've known you both since
before you were born. I only desire to see you both thrive and fulfill the
blessings I gave you both.” Gerson told the skeleton, resting a wrinkled hand
over Papyrus' knee for a short moment. “I shall reschedule the meeting for next
week. I can give you eight days, no more. Ten in total counting the
preparation, but on the eleventh day you will be crowned and Sans will attend.”
“I understand, council member.”
“Good. Now go check on your brother, and keep me informed on his health.”
Chapter End Notes
     Reuploaded!
     Thank you so so much for the wonderful comments. I was really
     hovering over the delete button but your kind words really helped me
     get through this middle hurdle. Thank you
     This chapter offers a bit of Papyrus' perspective and seems a bit
     filler but only because this was mixed with the next chapter
     originally making it over 30 pages long and I didn't want to edit
     that all in one go. But this is a good set up for the next chapter
     and decided to add it on making this more bearable (to me at least).
     Thank you all very much and I hope to have the next chapter out next
     week!
***** I'm sorry. *****
I'm sorry to say this but I don't know if I can finish this fic. I really
thought I was past the rut I had but I'm not at all. I would let it go in hopes
of it one day returning but I feel incredibly guilty just leaving this story
unfinished forever with no excuse. I've devoted almost all my spare time to my
career and personal matter and have taken time away from both to write which I
can't do anymore.
For now, the fic will remain simply incomplete. I can't even figure out how to
get through the next chapter let alone the end. I don't want to post a chapter
every three months if even that so it's best to for now let it go. I'll leave
this story up but I don't know if I will ever finish it. As for the rest, it
ends happily. Sans slowly gets over his troubles, married Papyrus, and they
rule as king and queen happy.
I'm truly sorry to let this go. Thank you very much for reading up to this
point and I'm very sorry to not be able to complete this story for all those
who followed it. Thank you, and once more, sorry.
End Notes
     *Sweats* Welp, decided to just post this. Really debated one making a
     separate NSFW account, but, it's too much.
     Warning this fic will be graphic and disturbing. Triggers and tags
     will be listed in the beginning note. You have been warned.
     Feel free to ask a question here or on my Tumblr. I'll also maybe do
     requests if I'm free or if they interest me.
     Safe_for_work_Tumblr. Not_Safe_for_work_Tumblr.
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