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Bad Brother AU

Chapter Text

Today...was a good day.

Sans stared up at the ceiling, eyelights gone as he absent-mindedly cradled his broken, mangled arm. Toby whined, licking his face as the skeleton pushed the dog away gently with his unharmed arm.

"sorry, toby. no food today." The dog whimpered, its small, pink tongue hanging out of its mouth as it watched him, Sans sighing as he offered a few apologetic pats.

"i know...and i promise, i'll feed ya tomorrow. i...i'll ask pap, okay?" Toby snorted at the name as Sans bit his 'lip' unhappily as he glanced to the bowl next to him. It admittedly had a bit of spaghetti from yesterday, but he was so hungry...

The skeleton eventually gave in, pushing the small bowl over to the dog, ignoring the gnawing hunger he himself felt as he watched his pet instantly start to dig in. It was worth it.

"is...is that better...?" Sans hesitantly asked, Toby barking cheerfully in answer as Sans smiled weakly.

"i-i'm glad..." He rolled over slowly, carefully minding his broken arm as he stared at the wall, listening tiredly to the familiar sounds of Papyrus washing dishes downstairs.

He could eat tomorrow. It wasn't a problem at all. He was sure Papyrus would allow him to eat tomorrow. Maybe.

Yeah; today was a good day.

Chapter Text

"Sans!" The skeleton jolted awake at the first punch, groaning as one of his ribs cracked. What had he done? What had he done wrong this time? He had only been asleep...!

"'m-m a-awake, s-sorry p-papyrus..." He flinched at the boiling rage in Papyrus' eyes. Papyrus was angry. Papyrus was furious, and it always lead to immeasurable pain for him.

Suddenly the sound of bones breaking rang out, accompanied by a shriek as Sans sobbed, a swift kick from Papyrus shattering his collarbone.

He didn't understand! Why was he getting punished? Usually when he was punished, he knew what he had done wrong, but what had he done wrong this time?!

"Undyne said that I wasn't ready to be in the Royal Guard." The other skeleton's voice was deadly and sharp, Sans cringing as he tried to pull away, but to no avail.

"s-s-sorry p-pap-nGH!" He cried out when he felt Papyrus stomp down on his ribcage, grinding his foot down on Sans' fragile bones as several ribs cracked and broke under the intense pressure.

"Did I say you could talk?!" Sans cried softly, not answering, his vision hazy as it started to go black.

"It's all because of YOU! You're pathetic and lazy!" Papyrus snarled out, lashing out with his fist as it caught his cheekbone, crushing it with the impact. Sans couldn't even scream anymore, his HP ticking down steadily.

"s-s-so-so-rry..." He could only stutter out apologies and half-formed pleads as Papyrus continued to rain down punches, Sans sobbing and heaving. Papyrus slid in and out of Sans' vision, dazing him.

Eventually after what felt like an eternity, Papyrus pulled back, leaving Sans a broken and bloody mess on the floor. The small skeleton couldn't do anything except for twitch weakly, blood dribbling out from his mouth as his HP hung at a precarious 0.04/0.3.

"Clean yourself up, bitch!" Papyrus growled as he stood and left, Sans staring up at the ceiling tiredly as he felt marrow continue to drip from every broken bone. His vision was swimming, hazy eyelights blinking out.

Maybe if he just took a short nap... He closed his eyesockets, trying to block out the agony thrumming through every bone in his system, eventually falling asleep from stress and pain.

He'd deal with the aftermath of his injuries when he woke up. And if he didn't wake up...?

Well, his brother would be glad to know that he had one less problem to deal with.

Chapter Text

Undyne glanced up from her piano when she heard soft, hesitant knocking at her door. Who the hell was rapping at her door at- she checked the clock on the wall- nearly 11 at night?

She rolled her eyes fondly as a name came to mind. Papyrus liked to turn up at her door at odd hours to beg her for training, and while his enthusiasm was awesome, he really needed to stop showing up at strange hours. Although it was strange that he was knocking so gently...

Getting up, she fixed her eyepatch before throwing the door open, ready to exclaim a faux-annoyed greeting before stopping at the sight of Sans, who was nervously shuffling his feet.

What was Sans doing here? Although they were friends and occasionally hung out together (and by that she meant he appeared out of literal nothingness to talk sciency crap with Alphys), they were nowhere close to going over to each other's houses yet. And...

Sans was kind of...weird, to say the least. The small skeleton had none of his brother's cheerful optimism and exuberant personality, and definitely none of his height. She just didn't understand it.

Sweeping a critical eye over Sans' slim figure, she noted the alarming bruises marring his skull, along with how his hands trembled slightly. Now what the hell had happened there? She'd definitely need to talk to Papyrus about that.

"uh...undyne?" The skeleton's soft voice jarred her out of her thoughts, but she carefully controlled her reactions as she grinned down at him, flashing her shark teeth.

"What's up, punk? Where's your bro?" Undyne didn't miss the way he flinched at his name, eyelights darting to the side to avoid her gaze, but wrote it off as anxiety from talking to the Captain of the Royal Guard. She was pretty freaking COOL, if she did say so herself.

"y-yeah...that's kinda what i came here to talk to you about..." She huffed silently, hands on her hips. Why was he so freaking formal all the time? In an attempt to get him to relax a bit more, she smirked at him.

"Why? Did he finally get tired of your lazybones attitude?" This time she definitely didn't miss the way he winced at her joking question, stepping back slightly as if to avoid the topic.

"u-uh...heh...yeah...f-fin-ally, right?" He attempted to pun, his strained smile not reaching his eyelights as she frowned. Since when had he ever struggled to tell a pun?

Deciding to cut to the chase, she dropped her posture, allowing her hands to fall back to her sides. "What do you need, Sans?"

The skeleton paused as he hunched his shoulders, letting his painful pseudo-grin drop as he said quietly, "i-i know it's a lot to ask of ya...but do you think you could let paps into the guard?"

Oh. Oh...so that was what this was about. Of course. Sans' initial hesitance and quiet facadé was just a way of trying to get his brother into the guard. Man, those brothers loved each other way too much. It was sickeningly adorable.

Her grin instantly fell as she became serious. "Look, Sans. Your bro's got the right attitude and the magic to back it up. But I just don't think he's cut out to be a member."

Sans seemed desperate as he argued. "b-but why? please, undyne, he's ready! just let him in already!" The monster's eyelights were flickering a incandescent cerulean and pale gold, lighting up the room in eerie shadows and a powerful, pulsating glow.

Undyne shook her head apologetically, patting the skeleton on the back and ignoring how he became deathly (hah, he'd appreciate that joke) still in favour of reassuring him.

"Sans. I'm sorry, but that's my final say. Break it to Papyrus or not, it's your choice, but he just doesn't have what it takes. He's way too innocent and naive-"

She was interrupted by Sans' soft cries. He was shaking, desperately trying to keep calm as sobs wracked his small frame. "no-no-p-please, if you d-don't let h-him in i'm going t-to g-et such a b-bad beating-"

Sans was hyperventilating in front of her? After unfreezing from her momentary shock, Undyne touched his shoulder as he pushed her back harshly, sending her back a few paces.

"Sans-" She was cut off by the familiar crackling of magic as Sans literally disappeared. Undyne was left standing in her house, not exactly knowing or understanding what had happened, but left with a feeling of guilt and regret for some reason.

An ominous feeling stirred in her gut, one she didn't recognise but made her wary of the future. She'd ask Papyrus about Sans tomorrow. It would be okay.

Chapter Text

Sans leaned forwards, looking down as a wild giggle escaped him. One of the unspoken rules of being in high places was to never look down, right? Then again, Sans had always liked to bend and break rules.

'see where that got you', a voice mocked as Sans frowned, but waved the thought away. This was his time to do whatever the hell he wanted. Screw Papyrus and his rules. He'd go back to being the perfect little pet for his brother later, but for now, he could relax.

The bridge swayed dangerously, a strong wind catching it as the floorboards underneath him creaked in displeasure, stealing another surprised huff of laughter from Sans as he let his legs hang over the side of the bridge, kicking them carelessly.

He had been sitting on the bridge for...well, he didn't know. Sans' sense of time was messed up. All he knew is that he would get a beating once he got home for leaving the house without permission, but that was then. This was now. He'd face the consequences of his stupid actions later.

Suddenly gripped by a strange feeling, Sans leaned even further to look down, a small grin making its way onto his face as he studied the sheer drop below him.

If he fell, his bones would shatter, wouldn't they? An adult human could fall and suffer mediocre injuries. A boss monster could fall and suffer slightly alarming, but not deadly, injuries. Hell, even a normal monster could fall and still not dust. Sure, they'd be fucked up for life, but at least they'd be alive.

But him? With his 1 HP? Sans laughed carelessly at the thought, amused by the prospects. Even Determination wouldn't be able to revive him.

He wanted to be free. That was a scary thought. What was the word for it...? The answer came to him after a few moments of thought. Liberosis.

The definition filled his head almost instantly and Sans chuckled. So this was where he had inherited the Doctor's photographic memory.

Liberosis. The desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.

That's what he wanted, wasn't it? He wanted not to care. Caring had caused far too many problems in his life, from the Doctor to his brother to the resets. It was all because he cared, far too much.

Everybody knew a monster was made up of love, kindness and compassion. But Sans? He was filled with far too much. He cared about Gaster, even as the insane scientist was trying to kill him. He cared about Papyrus, even though his brother was the source of his misery. He cared about the kid, even though they had mercilessly slew everybody he had ever loved.

Sans looked down at the bottomless ravine with a thoughtful expression, leaning forward one last time.

He didn't want to care anymore.

Chapter Text

Sans stood outside their house, hands shaking as his breath came in short, unnecessary gasps. Why was he so scared of entering his house? It was his own house, for stars' sakes! This fear he felt was ridiculous. Papyrus loved him. Papyrus would never hurt him unless he'd done something wrong.

With that mindset firmly replaying in his head, he inhaled softly, teleporting into his house before nervously glancing around the darkened living room. Nobody was here.

Letting out a sigh of relief that Sans hadn't even known he was holding, he called out for his dog, Toby zipping down the staircase to greet him with cheerful licks.

The skeleton laughed softly, patting the dog as he cooed to it quietly while entering the kitchen. "y-yeah, i know, you're hungry. i-i earned a bit more money today, so i bought you a new bag of kibble."

He absent-mindedly held a one-sided conversation with the fluffy white canine as he poured some of the dog food into the little silver bowl, painstakingly ignoring how his own hands trembled from lack of nutrients and starvation. He could eat tomorrow, and anyways watching his pet dig into the food filled him with enough joy to ignore his own gnawing hunger.

As Toby finished up his food, Sans picked the bowl up and started to wash it while shooing the dog away. "go o-on, toby. upstairs now." The dog shot him a dubious look- sometimes he swore that his pet was psychic-, but bounded up the stairs obediently anyways.

He heard the front door open and nearly dropped the dog dish, his soul suddenly pounding in terror as he quickly shelved the dish in the cupboards.

"Sans? I know you're here." Sans gulped, quickly moving towards his brother subserviently as Papyrus looked him over critically.

"Today was your payday, right?" When Sans nodded quietly, Papyrus held his hand out demandingly in a silent order to hand it over.

Pulling the small bag of gold out of his inventory, the small skeleton watched Papyrus count it with a quickly sinking heart. He had worked so hard to earn that much...

"Here." Papyrus threw a few gold pieces at him, Sans scramblng to catch it. "That's for your animal. Now get out of my sight."

Sans quickly rounded the corner, teleporting upstairs once he was out of Papyrus' line of vision as he sighed, sitting on the edge of his mattress and sagging. The amount of money left wasn't nearly enough to buy food for him tomorrow.

When Toby whined, Sans gave the dog a small, painful smile. "i-it's okay, tobs. i-i can go without food for a b-bit longer." The dog yapped angrily, leaping onto him and licking his face.

Sans laughed weakly, hands automatically running through the canine's soft fur as he pet the outraged animal. "i-i know...i-it's really okay...i-i'll just e-eat in a few days...s'not so b-bad..."

Toby shot him a frankly incredulous look, which made the skeleton giggle slightly, closing his eyesockets as he curled up under the thin, ratty sheets. "i-i'll raid the t-trashcans or somethin', yeah? i promise you i'll eat something tomorrow."

The dog seemed slightly more appeased by that, snuggling into Sans' arms as the monster stroked it gently. "s-sleep now. i-i'll find some way to eat tomorrow, don't worry."

He didn't honestly know why he was talking to his pet. He bet the animal didn't even understand him. He guessed he just wanted a friend to talk to. Sans sighed, slowly drifting off to sleep.

He dreamed of a world, a better world where Papyrus hugged him and loved him, where they were on the surface and the humans were accepting, with the gorgeous daylight and the mysterious, enrapturing night.

He dreamed of a world where he was loved.

Chapter Text

The freezing cold air settling in the room slowly replaced all warmth until it felt like his brittle bones themselves were made of ice. It didn’t matter. He didn’t even have skin, so it’s not like it would really cause any damage other than maybe a bit of discomfort.

He almost wished it did.

Blinking back tears, he stood slowly, wincing at the pain in his leg from where Papyrus had shoved him, causing him to yelp as he landed in an awkward position-

No. Don't think about it.

Painstakingly standing, he looked to the shattered photo frame and swallowed tightly against the fear still pounding in his ribcage, even though Papyrus had already gone to bed.

Stupid. It was stupid to think- to ever think- Papyrus loved him. It was just a fucking ridiculous fantasy of his. He knew that nobody gave a single shit about him, so why did he still crave love?

"Sometimes I wish you would just finally dust so I don't have to put up with your crap!" Hearing the words were like getting shot in the head, excruciating agony for all of three seconds before a painful numbness overwhelmed him.

Why did he even bother anymore? He wanted to lie down and just sleep, but if Papyrus woke up and found the mess...

With slumped shoulders, he trudged across the room, walking to the window unsteadily as he dropped to his knees and gathered the shards of sharp glass into his hands. He stifled a soft whimper when it cut into his palms, but ignored the nagging pain as he dumped the glass into the trashcan in the corner of his room.

Sans had only been contemplating a photo he had found stashed in the corner of his wardrobe while cleaning before he registered footsteps behind him, hands ripping the framed photograph out of his suddenly shaking hands.

It had been a photo of their childhood, Sans proudly smiling down at his younger brother as the small Papyrus grinned brightly at the camera, and wasn't that ironic since future Papyrus' expression was steadily darkening.

The next thing he knew was something being thrown at his face. Sans, the stupid idiot that he was, had sidestepped, allowing the object to smash the window instead, and boy did Papyrus look even angrier at that, the hatred brimming in those orange eyelights able to chill his marrow faster than the freezing temperatures could and then pain, so much pain-

He forcibly blocked out those memories, willing himself to wipe away tears- just stop fucking crying, Sans, you’re acting like a fucking baby, how fucking old are you, get it together- as he curled up in the corner of the room. Stars, he didn’t even remember what had happened...

"God, sometimes I feel like the happiest day of my life will be when I finally get to spread your dust"- and Sans trembled, ignoring the flare of pain in his leg as he grimaced, daringly peeking at the crack that ran up his tibia.

Okay. Okay, not so bad. It would just hurt a little bit, he could get it healed tomorrow. It would be best to heal it soon so it didn't get infected and he'd have to go to a hospital, which was the last thing he needed at the moment. Papyrus would be furious if he had to waste more of his money for his worthless, fucking pathetic brother, and that was okay. Because...because...

Because Sans would be pissed too if he had to waste money on himself. Stars, he was so greedy. He had already spent money buying food for himself three days ago, that he had stashed inside the wardrobe and rationed (but what did that matter when Papyrus had raided his wardrobe and found it, only to throw it away and punish Sans again?).

The malice and sadism that he had seen in Papyrus' eyelights scared him, terrified him actually, but it wasn't Papyrus' fault. He was just stressed. And it was understandable, since the taller skeleton had to deal with a piece of shit like him.

Sans nodded silently to himself, hissing in pain as the motion jostled his shattered tibia, his hand shooting up to his mouth to muffle any groans that might escape. He didn’t want to wake Papyrus.

It was his fault in the first place, anyways. He shouldn't have been...he shouldn't... He swallowed. It didn't matter if he didn't fully understand what he had done wrong. That was due to his own stupid, retarded self anyway. He understood, now, why Papyrus hated him so much. He kind of hated himself too.

"You're lucky you're not dust yet. You're worth nothing. You're useless. Pathetic. Disgusting. Worthless. Stupid. Maybe you should go kill yourself so I don't have to put up with you-"

Sans hid a soft sob.

Chapter Text

"i-i'm sorry! i-i t-tried, b-but she didn't l-listen to me! p-please!" The last word was screamed out as he felt his arm being twisted in a strange angle as Sans whimpered, curling up in a pathetic effort to protect himself from Papyrus' fists.

Choking out a pained whine when he felt a steel-toed boot slam into his ribcage, the splintering of bones all too familiar to him now, Sans gasped for breath.

He had bought Papyrus those boots, back when they were still brothers, not this fucked-up, ruined husk of what their relationship used to be-

His thoughts were cut off when blinding pain erupted in his skull, his animalistic shrieks reaching a previously unheard pitch. "Listen to me when I'm talking!"

Sans nodded desperately, trying to avoid more punishment as he felt marrow drip down, temporarily blinded by the split crack in his socket, the skeleton tearing up against his own will.

"You failed, Sans. What did I tell you to do?" Sans swallowed, speaking up meekly as his hands rose to shield his face. "u-uhm...y-you t-told me to a-ask un-dyne to-"

"No!" Papyrus' shouted words hurt more than the next kick, sending Sans flying as he hit the wall with a loud crack and crumpled, vision hazy. Oh. Oh wow, was his leg supposed to look like that? And his arm didn't look too good, either. Huh. That hurt like a motherfucker. Shame, he might not be able to walk for a while. Guess he was out of options for eating then, since he would need to raid the trashcans and he couldn't do that with a broken leg and a fucked-up arm-

Another vicious strike to his ribs had Sans realising he had been spacing out again (it was no wonder Papyrus hated him, he'd hate someone too if that someone was spacing out while he was talking), dazedly looking up, the pain overwhelming as Papyrus sneered down at him.

"No, you idiot. I told you to MAKE Undyne allow me into the Royal Guard." What was the difference, Sans wanted to scream, but at this point he doubted his destroyed vocal cords would allow him to raise his voice to that pitch.

"'m s-'rr'..." Papyrus rolled his eyelights and Sans desperately wanted to cry. What had he said wrong? "Yes, Sans. You're always sorry. I bet you thought it would be funny to rub it in my face, telling Undyne that you thought I wasn't fit to be in the Guard."

What...?

Sans hadn't said that. He would never say that. Not even when Papyrus was beating him until he was half dead would he say that. So why did Papyrus think he had...?

Yellow petals invaded his vision for a few seconds before disappearing, Sans groaning and clutching his head. Stars, he had a splitting headache...

A sharp agony exploded in his skull, making him see stars-heh, he'd have to use that one sometime, just not when his brother was around, of course- as Sans mewled, unintelligble words escaping him.

"p'ea'e..." Another blow made Sans gag, vomiting as his shoulders shook violently, but nothing came up except for marrow, the red splattered on the floor. It wasn't exactly surprising, that he hadn't thrown anything up. After all, one had to have eaten something to be able to throw it up. He mumbled something under his breath tiredly.

"What? Sans, I don't have time for your ridiculous babble-" Papyrus' words were a jumble to his ears as he swayed. What was dripping down his face? He touched the liquid, and his fingertips came away red. Huh. Papyrus had never beaten him quite this badly before. Man, his brother was pissed. Sans was such a fuck-up.

He realised he was repeating one word over and over again, his mouth moving without his own consent. "mercy...m-mercy..." Sans slurred tiredly, before breaking out into exhausted, agonised giggles. Mercy? He didn't deserve mercy, what was he thinking?

"Sans?" Was that Papyrus? Papyrus! "pppaaappp..." Words sounded like he had cotton in his ears. Heh, ears. He really was on a roll today. "mmm sssorryy...mm sso stupidd..."

"Sans..." Papyrus sounded...not angry. It had been such a long time since he'd heard Papyrus talk without anger. That was strange. "m-myy faulttt...i r-raisssed you shittily, huhh...? heheh...ssorry..." He heard his brother's footsteps distantly, his body instinctively flinching away depsite there being no pain. Well, no more pain than he already had.

Why was everything so blurry? What was going on? He caught a flash of red and laughed. Red. Red couch, red scarf, red, red was on his face, red was everywhere staining him and why did he feel so dizzy?

He felt the familiar feeling of a CHECK enveloping him, the tiny monster keening softly for mercy as his stats came up.

Sans.
0.0028/0.4 HP
1 DF
1 ATK
Tired. If you don't get him to a hospital soon, he will dust.

Ohhh...so that was why he felt like crap. Everything hurt, and he didn't want to move. He felt arms scoop him up as Sans frowned, weakly pushing at the vague direction he thought the person was. "noo...lemme die..." The person carrying him stumbled at his words, Sans drunkenly snickering at the action. Why was that so funny? Why was he asking so many questions? Sans should know better. Papyrus hated questions.

Actually, no. Papyrus didn't hate questions. Papyrus hated questions from him, specifically. Him only. Papyrus hated a lot of things about him, that Sans desperately tried to change, but it was never enough. Papyrus hated his voice, his laziness, his stupidity, his disregard for responsibility, his this his that when would Papyrus ever think he was worth something, for once?

At the silence and stillness surrounding him, Sans felt fear grip his soul. What? Why was he scared? Someone touched his arm as he whimpered softly, too inaudibly to be heard. "n-no...p'eas', 'on't hur' me..." He felt something grip his skull and expected pain, bracing himself as much as he could, but nothing happened.

Huh. Nothing happened. Why wasn't his head being slammed into a table or something? He still remembered the last time that happened. He doubted that he would ever forget. Papyrus had been angry with him, had slammed his skull into the kitchen countertop over and over and over again until his skull had caved in, a ragged chunk of bone missing, just...not there anymore. Sans had begged softly, still obedient even as the pain and pressure in his head increased, and had laid compliant and unresisting as he laid there and let Papyrus continue to roughly cave in his skull, a hopeless shriek the only noise he made as the fragile bone was crushed under Papyrus' force, the gaping, jagged hole a marker of his own stupidity.

Sans hadn't done anything for two weeks after that, further enraging Papyrus, who was glad to use him as a punching bag. Sans knew the feeling. He could relate, because Sans liked to use himself as a punching bag too, an emotional one at least.

He thought he heard Papyrus talking to someone on the phone. Sans rolled over before his eyesockets widened and he hit the floor face-first.

His skull split open.

"SANS!" was the last thing he heard before everything went black.

Stars this was getting old.

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Sans woke up in a white room, incessant beeping revertebrating in his skull, echoing and echoing and why was it so loud-

And screamed.

Chapter Text

Sans was tired.

He stared at the wall, the pounding in his head increasing from when Papyrus had dug his heel into the smaller skeleton's skull.

"i'm tired."

Sans didn't exactly know why he chose to say that out loud, but what he did know was that it was a bad idea. Papyrus could hear it. If Papyrus heard it...he would beat Sans again. Or...

He swallowed thickly at the thought. His brother had recently come up with a new, even worse kind of torture. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't need to think about it, not when he could still feel the dried blood and semen on his thighs, tainting him, dirtying him.

Where in the Underground had Papyrus come up with that idea? Stars, where had Papyrus come up with any of the ideas he had used to punish Sans? The beatings, the starvation, the violations... It was all too much. Maybe he could still have put up with the beatings (stars only knew how many of those he'd recieved over the course of his life), but this...

This was too much.

Shifting, he attempted to stand, grimacing at the ache coiled in his bones as he stumbled, staggering slightly. God, it hurt...everything hurt. He was in so much pain, and Papyrus had been in such a bad mood lately and had been taking it out on Sans and oh god he didn't know what he had done to deserve this, but it probably was something bad since he could feel come staining his pelvis and blood dripping down his thighs and oh god, what had he ever done to deserve this?

Sans slumped, abandoning his attempt to stand. He'd just have to attempt to raid the trashcans for food another day, which was just another problem he had to handle. The skeleton hadn't eaten food in three days now, and hadn't eaten more than a few strands of burnt, spoilt pasta in...He didn't even know. Months, maybe. All he knew was that his ecto-stomach was protesting, was in agony, but he shouldn't be greedy.

This was all so fucked up. He hated this. He wanted Papyrus to stop hurting him, he wanted Papyrus to care about him, just a little bit...He didn't even need to stop beating him! Break his limbs for all he cared. All he needed was maybe...food. Once a week, that's all he asked for.

Sans salivated at the thought of eating a full meal that wasn't overdue, swaying dangerously. Food...He'd kill for food, at this rate. A nice burger and fries. Hell, even a ketchup packet. Literally anything. Once a week. That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

'but you don't deserve anything,' a voice hissed, Sans sighing brokenly. Yeah. The voice was right. He was nothing more than a whore. He could...he could last a few more days without food. He'd survived a full month without food already, what was a few more days?

Maybe...maybe if...Papyrus had said that if Sans got on his knees and sucked him off like the slut he was, he would get food. Was it worth sacrificing his own body for food?

Yes. The honest answer was yes. Sans would do anything for food at this rate, but...

A loud crack sounded in the room as a weak light flickered in Sans' ribcage, the skeleton grinning softly. Huh. That was the third crack this week, and it was only Thursday. It was understandable, seeing as this week was the first week Papyrus had started-

No. He brushed the thought aside as he summoned his soul. It was disgusting, twisted beyond anything he'd seen. Instead of its usual cyan glow, the heart-shaped construct pulsed weakly as if in distress, a dim gray. He was disgusting. Horrible. Why was he so pathetic? Papyrus was right, he really was nothing but a fucktoy and a spoilt brat.

The new crack looked worse than normal, a hairline fracture nearly splitting the warped soul in half as Sans smirked exhaustedly. Good. Just a bit more of this and he'd-

Sans gripped his skull, breathing picking up. What the hell was he just thinking?! Did he really think killing himself was the option here?! He was so fucking selfish...He hadn't even took a moment to contemplate whether Papyrus would be upset without his favourite punching bag and fucktoy. How fucking terrible was he?

It did sound tempting, though. At these thoughts, the soul cupped in his hands shuddered, but he paid it no mind.

The chance to escape all this suffering, all the pain...what kind of monster would he be if he passed an oppurtunity like this up? He would do anything to get away from Papyrus and his malicious, sadistic intent-filled eyelights. Anything.

The soul jumped at the sudden train of thought, as if visibly trying to warn him not to do anything stupid while he was so upset, but Sans was far too caught-up in the idea to notice the distress signals his soul was giving out.

This...this was his chance! Wasn't it? It was his chance to finally escape all the pain! Papyrus could never lay a hand on him again, could never punish him again, could never ra-

He swallowed harshly, thumbs digging into the soft body of his soul. Would he do it? Could he do it? Was he really so horrible that he could leave his brother behind without even a goodbye, an explanation? Was he really that cruel of a person?

He heard the door of the bedroom next to his open and panicked, hands shaking in fear. Anytime now Papyrus could walk in, push him down and tie his wrists behind his back again, pull down his shorts, just like the first time he had done it to Sans and oh god he didn't want to be raped again, he didn't, it hurt so so much, it felt like he was being ripped in half and he hated it, he felt so dirty, so used, so disgusting, no one would want him no one had ever wanted him what was he waiting for what was he waiting for-

In the end, it turned out Sans hadn't even needed to split his soul. A damaging cracking noise rang out and Sans tensed before relaxing, letting go of his soul. His soul had torn itself apart. He hadn't even needed to do anything.

He laughed softly as the door swung open, and dissolved.

Chapter Text

It had been one year, six months, three weeks, fourteen days, twenty-one hours and forty-seven seconds.

Forty-eight seconds.

Forty-nine seconds...

Fifty.

Sans exhaled slowly as he sat on his and Grillby's bed, legs dangling off the side.

Fifty-one seconds, fifty-two seconds, fifty-three seconds, fifty-four...

Sans took in a deep breath and listened to the sounds of customers downstairs, yelling and chatting freely. It was almost familiar, like something he'd heard thousands of years ago but then forgotten.

Fifty-five seconds, fifty-six seconds, fifty-seven...

Living with Grillby was strange. Grillby, however, was stranger (unfamiliar). The fire elemental was always cheerful towards him, talking to him as if he were an equal,
("you will never be NORMAL, Sans, you're just a fucking experiment, get it through your thick skull, you're NOT like us normal monsters"-)
treated him as if he had rights,
("Sans, stop asking for more food! I fed you yesterday, don't be so greedy"-)
and acted as if he actually wanted to hear what Sans had to say.
("Sans, could you shut up for once? I have more important things to do than to listen to someone like you"-).

Fifty-eight seconds, fifty-nine seconds, sixty...

But, despite the horrors in Sans' past...

Sixty-one seconds, sixty-two seconds, sixty three...

The bartender had never once questioned Sans' behaviour, instead always waiting for the skeleton to come to him to talk. Even when Sans had briefly trailed his phalanges on Grillby's waist
("Sans, what are you doing?"
"i-i...i thought...i have to r-repay you-"
"No, no, Sans god no, you never have to repay me with your body, never, I promise you will never have to"-),
even when Sans had dropped a glass,
("p-please, i-i'm s-sorry, i-i'm s-so sorry, i-i didn't mean t-to p-please don't-"
"Shh, shh, I'm not going to hurt you, shh...It's fine, okay?-)
even when Sans woke him up with his night terrors,
("hhh-hh-ghk-haah-"
"I'm right here, come on, come back to me, you're safe, you're loved, Papyrus can never touch you again, I promise you, you're safe with me"-)
and even when Sans simply wanted a little comfort.
("c-can...can i-"
"Yes, Sans?"
"...f-forget it, it's stupid anyway...h-hey, what are you-"
"You looked like you needed a hug."
"...thank you."-)

Sixty-four seconds, sixty-five seconds, sixty-six...

And the first time they had kissed, when Sans had immediately slid in between Grillby's legs after, expecting to have to please,
("What are you doing? Sans?"
"d-don't you want m-me to service you?"
"No, Sans, no, never, not until you're comfortable."
"t-then why'd you kiss me?..."
"...Because I love you."-)
when Sans had backed out of sex, sweating and shaking, terrified,
("w-wait-wait, stop, s-stop-"
"Sans?! What's wrong? Are you okay, what's the matter, what happened-"
"y-you..."
"What, love?"
"y-you actually stopped...i-i didn't think you were gonna..."-)
and when Sans had accidentally screwed things up the first time they were ever intimate.
("HAHAHAH!"
"i-i..."
"Hahah...Sans, why're you crying?"
"i-i'm sorry...i-i didn't mean to mess up again..."
"Oh god, no Sans, it's alright! I wasn't laughing at you, never. It was just funny."
"...why?"
"Because I did that my first time too."-)

Sixty-seven seconds, sixty-eight seconds, sixty-nine...

Yes, there were many things about Grillby that were strange.

"Love? Do you want any food? I've got some fries that're calling your name!"

But, despite its unfamiliarity...

"yeah, thanks. bring up a burg too? i'm kinda hungry."

It was good.

"Talk about mouths to feed, you've got at least five. You're putting me out of business single-handedly! But nevertheless, since I love you...fine."

...Was this what true love felt like?

Chapter Text

Everyone knew what was happening.

It was no surprise, really. Occasionally, there were newcomers: the rabbit monster who'd been horrified was the most memorable, the most recent. They all remembered how the rabbit had shrieked at them in the town square, eyes ablaze with righteous fury, hands clenched into trembling fists.

"Why aren't you doing anything?! Why aren't you stopping him-" Then, someone had gently taken her arm and shushed her softly. The next day, she'd given Sans a pain-stricken look, handed him two cinnabuns and left. They'd never seen her again.

It was impossible not to know. There were the good days: when the small skeleton would enter Grillby's establishment, tell a few jokes and leave.

Everyone pretended not to see the dark marks scorched under Sans' eyesockets from sleepless nights, how his clothes were baggy, not because they were too big for him but because they refused to fit from starvation, the hand-shaped bruises and perfectly-aligned cuts that were sometimes revealed when Sans' sleeve slipped up while reaching for the free bottle of ketchup that Grillby supplied him with daily. They all pretended that the bruises were the same as those self-inflicted cuts, (a cry for help? a pathetic attention-seeking attempt?) and wouldn't that have been better? At least then, he could've been saved.

Then there were the bad days: when Sans would stumble into the bar, meekly flinching whenever someone talked too loudly, gaze going submissively to the floor whenever someone yelled at him jokingly, fearful whimpers when someone brushed against his waist.

They all pretended that the broken arm was from falling down the stairs, that the fractured leg was from slipping on Snowdin's ice. They couldn't pretend that the gaping hole in Sans' skull was anything non-malicious, however, but nevertheless, it was ignored.

The worst part, maybe, was when the proof was glaringly obvious: when Papyrus himself went into Grillby's to fetch his "wayward" brother. They averted their eyes when Papyrus grabbed Sans' wrist hard enough to fracture, blocked out the little sobs of pain and terror when Papyrus dragged him out, stared at the floor when they heard the agonised screams, the shaking pleads
("p-please, p-papyrus p-please stop n-no please d-don't-!")
from the alleyway next door, when Papyrus was simply too eager for Sans' punishment that he couldn't even wait to go home.

The hours later was worse, when Sans would limp into the bar, pale, shaking violently as if he were about to puke, blood and other bodily fluids no one wanted to think about trailing down his legs, staining his shorts. No one commented, no one asked if he was alright, no one even glanced at him as the little skeleton would softly request for ketchup, his voice trembling, and leave, the trail of blood a marker of the town's neglect.

Sure, everyone apologised in their own way, from gifting Sans little gifts of food (they knew he was starved, yet another thing they saw but never reported), to giving him small, pity-filled smiles, but how was that enough, when they all knew Sans' dirty "secret", yet had never tried to save him?

The whole town was complicit, tainted with the deeds they hadn't done but had stood by and watched. They watched as the skeleton slowly deteriorated, from the cheerful, punny, intelligent skeleton they all knew and loved to a stuttering, silent, ruined husk of what he used to be.

And it was their fault.

So it was really no surprise when, one day, they recieved news that the broken monster had Fallen Down. They all knew it was going to happen: some even had had morbid bets on whether the skeleton would Fall Down or just end it all early.

They were all guilty. Crime after crime after crime had been committed, and time after time after time, they kept silent.

They all remembered that day, that one last day before they got the news.

Sans had been oddly happier, his eyelights having a dim glow to them, as if he'd known what was going to happen to him, in several hours' time. And maybe he had?

Then Papyrus came in, as usual, dragged Sans out of his seat, as usual, had yelled at him, as usual. What was not usual was the final, pleading glance he'd given the locals. The littlest, faintest glimmer of hope:
maybe, someone would help him? just this once?

And then?

And then.

When no one had moved, had spoken up to help, Sans dropped his desperate gaze, had went deathly silent as he allowed his brother to manhandle him out the door. The brokeness of the sentry's stance, the slumped shoulders and limp frame had made them all shudder, the slightest bit of guilt touching their soul.

After all, monsters were made out of love, hope and kindness, weren't they?

And just when they'd decided enough was enough, that they'd ask Sans to spend the night at the Inn and alert the Royal Guards-

The little monster had dusted.

How ironic.

Now, this was their fate. Papyrus had been taken in for questioning, and the whole town had been detained. This was what they deserved.

As they sat in their respective cells and reflected on what they had done, all of them had had the same flashback.

-

"course i would help ya! i would do anything for you guys, you guys are the cool-est. " Sans smiled at the groans that broke out from the customers in the bar.

"what, you're saying you wouldn't do the same for me?" Doggo snorted, slapping his thigh as his eyes twinkled in mirth.

"Yeah, yeah, Sansy. No need to be all mushy about it."

"but ya would, right?" Sans pressed, smirking victoriously as if he'd already won.

Drunk Bunny giggled and hiccupped, nodding as she swayed. "Mmhmm...Sansy, take me home..."

-

And that was that. They'd changed the subject, and moved on. Now, they wondered.

Sans had promised to help them, and had, running errands for Dogaressa when she'd had her pups, making conversation to cheer up the families who'd loved ones had Fallen, even reading books to lull the Innkeeper's children to sleep. He'd done so much for all of them, yet they'd done nothing.

And now it was too late.

Chapter Text

The moment he entered the living room, Sans caught sight of his brother and instantly dropped to his knees subserviently, making a soft 'oof' when his kneecaps hit the floorboards.

Shit shit shit- he hadn't meant to come home so late! Sans had accidentally passed out from exhaustion in Grillby's, the sleepless nights catching up to him. When he awoke, he'd instantly rushed home-not that that would matter to Papyrus in the slightest.

"Sans. Come here." He scrambled to move closer, flinching when Papyrus pushed him down by the shoulders, pinning the weaker skeleton down.

"Form a pussy. Now." Sans whimpered, shaking his head, but after a slap rocked his head to the side, he did as his brother instructed, whining in terror when Papyrus lined up with his cunt.

"I told you to be back home by 6, and what did you do?" Papyrus pushed in roughly as he gripped his brother by the shoulders, slamming into him repeatedly, drawing a agonised shriek from the tiny monster due to the dry entrance. Sans could only beg for mercy, breath hitching with little, pained gasps and whimpers whenever Papyrus thrusted into him.

Sobbing weakly, he ended up shutting his eyesockets and laying limp as he unwillingly let Papyrus use him, not wanting to see himself being violated by his own brother that he had raised alone for most of his childhood.

"Answer my fucking question!" Sans blinked back scared tears, shakily replying.

"i-i came h-h-home a-at 8...i-i'm sorry...p-p-please-" He choked out a pained cry as Papyrus' grip on his small, slim hips tightened.

"p-please s-top..." Tears rolled down his skull when Papyrus hit him hard, still rocking his hips into Sans' tight heat as the small skeleton cried softly, shrieking weakly, vocal cords destroyed when he felt his brother climax into him.

Good. It was over. He was so tired...He needed to sleep...That pathetic hope was shattered when he felt Papyrus continue to fuck him, Sans' eyesockets widening in shock then dulling as he gave up, trembling.

"You're so ungrateful! When's the last time you ever helped me clean your own messes up?" Papyrus snarled as he slammed a fist into Sans' ribcage, the latter heaving louder sobs as he struggled to avoid throwing up at the pain.

Sans mewled, keening softly when he felt his ribs cave in. It wasn't his fault he couldn't move, let alone help. The blood loss and wounds always made him dizzy, causing him to pass out. He could barely walk straight, what made Papyrus think he could pick up a duster and clean?

"I always have to pick up after you! You never do anything! I'm the one who cooks and cleans for your sorry ass, you're lucky that I even keep you around for this! And now the one thing I ask you to do, you can't even do right!" Sans whimpered weakly, apologising over and over again.

"p-please...i-i'm sorr-y, i d-didn't mean t-to...s-stop..." Papyrus growled, slamming into his brother as he continued to meticulously break the sentry's ribs, Sans unable to do anything but lie there and take it as he cringed at the noises of his own ribcage cracking and breaking.

Feeling his HP drop again, he choked out a relieved sigh. Maybe he could finally rest once he dusted. This only enraged Papyrus even more, his hits becoming harder as Sans convulsed underneath him, vomiting, but only a thin trail of drool escaping his open maw, Sans not being able to throw up since he hadn't eaten anything for a few weeks.

He cried out, gagging at the sight of his crushed collarbone before gasping, shivering increasing when Papyrus came in him for the second time. Papyrus pulled out, grimacing at the blood and semen leaking out of Sans as he kicked the hurt monster over, revelling in the sheer amount of power he felt.

"Go clean yourself up. If I see this mess still here when I wake up, you'll be in even more trouble. Understand?" When Sans didn't answer, eyelights flickering out, Papyrus ground his heel down on his brother's ravaged pelvis, making the small skeleton yelp and sob softly.

"y-yes sir...p-please..." With a scoff, Papyrus strode away, leaving Sans to heave a silent sigh of relief. Glancing at himself, he assessed the damage silently. A few broken ribs, a shattered collarbone and a fractured pelvis. Okay. Not so bad. Not so bad that he'd have to go to Alphys' and make excuses- "i fell down the stairs, i tripped and fell on the ice, no nobody hurt me, it was an accident-"-for his injuries.

Sans whimpered softly when he attempted to sit up before giving up and flopping back down. He'd clean up later. There was time...

He fell asleep, and when he woke up, Papyrus was standing over him.

Chapter Text

"Sans! Where have you been, you're late, you lazy-"

 

Edge froze. Sans tilted his head awkwardly at his boyfriend, who was staring at him in shock.

 

"uh...edge? ya gonna let me in or am i just gonna stand around outside-" Edge flushed lightly, Sans chuckling at the sheer cuteness.

 

"Right, come in..." He was ushered inside and forced onto the couch, Sans blinking in bewilderment at the other skeleton.

 

"edge, what's going on-"

 

"Why the fuck are you hurt?!" Edge glared accusingly, his scorching gaze making Sans slump down as if he wanted the sofa to swallow him.

 

"look, i can explain-"

 

"No!" Edge was scowling at him with crossed arms. Sans might've thought it was cute if they hadn't trespassed into dangerous territory.

 

"This is the third time this week you've come over with an injury! Fine, maybe a bruise was excusable. Maybe even the fractured leg, if I was willing to give you an exception, which I am not. But this? Sans."

 

Sans winced slightly as Edge lightly applied the antiseptic to the large crack in his skull, the small skeleton meekly avoiding the taller's gaze.

 

"You know I care about you. I love you, and I may not seem like I do but I do hope that I have proven to you that I care deeply about you."

 

"yeah...?" Sans cautiously nodded, causing Edge to roll his eyes. The Underfell skeleton forcibly bit back words of frustration and anger, knowing that they would scare his small boyfriend off. He didn't want to accuse, only to help. But it was so hard to be cordial when Sans wouldn't cooperate...

 

"Sans. You need to tell me who's hurting you." Sans squacked indignantly, lightly shoving Edge.

 

"no one's hurting me, okay? i know it may seem that way but-"

 

"Fine. Then tell me how you got your broken ribs two weeks ago." Sans hesitated, exhaling slowly.

 

"i...fell down, i told you already-"

 

"Yes, that's the exact same thing you told me three times in a row! Even you're not that clumsy. Why won't you just tell me who it is?!" Edge growled, clenching his fists.

 

The moment he found that asshole, he would rip out their spinal cord and force them to eat it, then scoop out their eyeballs and feed it to their fucking family-

 

"..." The silence startled Edge a bit. Sans was always extremely talkative, especially around people that he enjoyed talking to. With a stranger he was shy and soft-spoken, but with Edge he was always open, smiles small but real and laughter like tinkling bells. Open with him about everything but this-

 

Edge finally focused enough to get a glimpse of Sans' expression, and when he did, he stilled.

 

Sans...

 

Sans was afraid.

 

The small skeleton's eyelights were fixated on Edge's clenched fists, Sans taking one step back as if he were about to bolt. And his expression...

 

Sans looked broken.

 

His face was a mix of misery and terror, as if he were expecting something to happen and bracing himself for it.

 

Oh no. Oh no no no no-

 

"Sans-" He took a step forward before the sentry shot him a scared glance and fled, making it a few steps before he disappeared into thin air.

 

This wasn't good.

 

There were very few people he could be mistaken for.

 

There were even less that Sans would willingly hang out with.

 

And there was only one living with him.

 

Fuck.

 

Edge bolted for his jacket, then reached for his phone.

 

"Swap, Blue, meet me at the Tales' house. No time to explain." No doubt his own brother was with the Swaps, given the amount of time they spent together.

 

If he had just scared his boyfriend back to his abuser...

 

Edge snarled loudly and left the house with the slam of a door.

 

-----------------------------------Sans's POV-----------------------------------

 

Sans whimpered softly as his brother loomed over him.

 

"Goddammit, Sans, you know one of our rules are not to use magic in the house."

 

"b-but you a-always-" His protest earned him a right hook, Sans gasping weakly for breath.

 

"Really, Sans? Haven't you learned anything?" His brother's disappointment hurt more than the beating.

 

"i-i'm sorry-ah!" He choked down a scream as Papyrus cruelly snapped one of his ribs, leaving the latter worn out and breathing shallowly.

 

He was so stupid. Of course he'd mess up again.

 

Why did he ever think that anything would change?

 

A fist slammed into the side of his skull just as the front door was kicked down, and then he knew no more.

Chapter Text

Sans groaned softly.

Papyrus had returned home furious. Sans didn’t know what had happened, but it was certainly something bad.

The small skeleton wheezed softly as he shifted on the filthy mattress, his ribs twinging in protest and chains clinking together. So maybe attempting to move wasn’t a good idea at the moment.

He whimpered lowly through his muzzle as he felt the hunger pangs worsen. The sentry stared morosely at the dog dish nearby. It was empty, save a few moldy scraps that would likely cause him to throw up in a few hours’ time, but if it could deceive his stomach into thinking it was semi-full, even for a little bit...

With a soft whine, Sans painstakingly reached out for the bowl, attempting to tug it towards him despite his hands having been broken a while ago. The pain was just mixed with everything else already. It barely hurt, now that he had adjusted to it.

Two strands of stale spaghetti and a white patch on the bowl that might be food or fungi. He honestly couldn’t tell. Everything was fuzzy and disorienting to him. With a resigned sigh, he lapped up the ‘food’ slowly, shuddering lifelessly at the taste. His ecto-biology was forced to be summoned constantly, leaving Sans with drained magic and Papyrus with more opportunities to ruin him. Not that he wasn’t already ruined.

He hunched into himself, his cringe slow and half-hearted as he took in his own appearance. His bones were brittle and weak, numerous perfectly-aligned scars criss-crossing with cruel, rage-induced wounds that looked as if someone had taken a chainsaw to him. Well, literally speaking, someone actually had brought a chainsaw to him. Heh.

It wasn’t funny.

He eyed his stomach. Sans used to be slightly pudgy, not overweight, not yet, but plump. Now he was so far from that, a skeleton (heh...no puns. papyrus hated puns) of his former self. The previous him used to be extremely self-conscious about his weight, his appearance. He’d make an effort to eat less, eventually stopping completely when he saw that he had gained two pounds. Now, he would chop off his right arm to be able to eat anything that wasn’t three days old.

Stars, he was so stupid.

His lower region was splattered with orange, the sticky liquid clinging to certain parts of him that never failed to make Sans queasy if he thought about it. They were impossible to wash off (or maybe they were easily washed away-Sans wouldn’t know, he hadn’t taken a bath in stars-knew how long).

The orange was almost pretty, in a way. It was funny. In Sans’ darkest moments in the past, the thought of his brother had always motivated him to stay alive. Now, the thought of his brother made him shiver with revulsion. If his magic were left unchecked, he would’ve offed himself years ago. Or maybe decades. He didn’t remember the exact date Papyrus had kidnapped him by gassing him, then collaring him with anti-magic restrictors and chaining him up, but it didn’t matter anyways.

Nothing did.

He picked up on the sound of the door opening and mewled softly, helplessly closing his eyesockets as his skull was stroked almost lovingly.

It made him want to vomit.

“How’s my little slut doing~?”

Chapter Text

“p-papyrus...?”

 

Sans stared up at Papyrus, eyesockets brimming with tears as he shook lightly from underneath him, cradling his broken wrist gingerly.

 

His brother really was adorable.

 

“Shh, Sans. I’m not going to hurt you.” The smaller seemed to tremble even harder at those words if it were possible. He could sense his brother’s confusion, his terror, the hopelessness he felt. He wanted more of it.

 

Papyrus reached down from where he was pinning Sans down, and twisted Sans’ hurt wrist further. The reaction was instantaneous, uncontrolled-not that that was an excuse. Sans jerked away, breathing harsh as he gasped weakly. His chains clinked together, Sans cringing at the noise of rusty metal.

 

A brief flare of anger pushed its way to the surface, and Papyrus grabbed his little brother’s throat, choking him with his collar as he smiled inwardly in satisfaction, the latter freezing.

 

“Haven’t I taught you not to flinch away from me? Do you need more training?” Papyrus hissed vindictively, savagely pleased as more tears streaked their way down Sans’ face.

 

“m-m sorry...”

 

“You know by now that ‘sorry’ isn’t good enough. Apologise properly.” The older ordered, sitting up and pushing Sans off and onto the floor with a soft thump.

 

Sans whined softly, but reluctantly obeyed, crawling in between Papyrus’s legs with an empty kind of resignment that thrilled Papyrus right down to the bone. His brother was just so cute, sitting in between his legs, still silently crying as he struggled to unzip Papyrus’s fly.

 

He wanted to make Sans hurt.

 

He growled impatiently as Sans finally managed to pull his pants off, the smaller skeleton staring at his cock with both disgusted facination and a terrified hollowness. He grabbed the back of Sans’ skull, enjoying how the sentry gave a full-body shudder at the contact.

 

Sharpened claws dug into bone as Sans whimpered quietly, a low but beautiful sound to Papyrus.

 

“Get to work.” With a quiet sob, the younger leaned in, giving the head a little, hesitant kitten lick before reluctantly taking it in his mouth, the skeleton almost immediately grimacing at the musky, heady scent.

 

“Good boy. Take it deeper.” Sans struggled to obey, his magic reacting as it formed a lightly shimmering throat, Papyrus sighing in contentment as his member was wrapped in a warm, tight channel.

 

Papyrus sighed with a roll of his eyesockets as he suddenly pressed Sans’s head closer, Sans whimpering in alarm and shock as he began coughing wetly under the pressure.

 

“Sans. Suck or I’ll use your pussy instead.” The younger visibly shook at the threat, attempting to hold back his pained sobs as he began to deepthroat Papyrus, bobbing his head slowly but surely in the way he had slowly learned Papyrus liked over the course of three years that he had spent being broken in by his brother, shaped into the perfect pet that would satisfy all of Papyrus’s sadistic needs perfectly.

 

“There you go, slut. If you don’t get me off in five minutes, you’re not getting food for the next two days.” Hearing the threat, Sans swallowed hard, holding back bitter tears before redoubling his efforts, taking Papyrus’ cock all the way in with a mewl and swirling his summoned tongue along the underside of his brother’s dick.

 

He needed to eat. He was so hungry. Papyrus hadn’t fed him in so long, and neither had his ‘customers’. Sans suppressed the memory of being violated roughly for money and instead focused on the task at hand.

 

“...45 seconds.” He definitely heard Papyrus’s voice being strained, grunts and moans egging him on. His brother was so close, he just needed to...

 

Sans gave a particularly hard suck and he felt Papyrus’s hand tighten on his skull, the crack spreading as he climaxed into Sans’s warm mouth with a curse.

 

5 minutes! He’d done it! But then, why was Papyrus smirking...?

 

“Check the time, pup.” Sans’s eyelights darted over to the timer Papyrus held in his hands before he deflated, sagging back against the wall as tears pricked his eyesockets.

 

Five minutes and two seconds.

 

“Nyeh. Clean yourself up, you’re a mess, then cone to my room. I still want to play with that pretty little cunt of yours.” A hand slipped down the skirt Papyrus forced him to wear and rubbed pointedly at Sans’s pussy, one finger flicking his clit as the smaller monster shuddered, yet felt nothing.

 

He had lost.

 

Sans dragged himself to the bathroom after Papyrus left, mind blank. Pathetic.

 

He stared out the open window at the snow below, three floors up.

 

It was a long fall.