Sans AU One-Shots

Dust❀ || dolls. (pt. 1)

This depicts a radioactive level of toxicity - bad people, bad scenarios, bad choices - and none of this is meant to be romanticized, only explored. Trauma manifests in many ways, and its psychological effects are fascinating, especially when you combine many different flavors together under one roof in the form of the Bad Sanses.

Pairing: Dust/Murder Sans x Female Reader
Prompt: As the newest doll Nightmare's brought to the castle, you create a rift between Killer and Dust when you to run to Dust for protection after he's proven to be able to protect you in the past. But he shoots down any possible hope you have by denying you help, choosing instead to turn aggressive when Killer gets too close like perhaps you're worth more than you're aware.
Type: long story with smut at the end
Length: 11k + 11k = 22k words
Background: This is a cruel, heartless version of the Bad Sanses, where I fully embrace how awful they are and don't shy away from how they'd treat a plaything like you in their castle designed to be used then discarded. I usually provide a more nuanced look at them - negating most of their evil in favor of realistic character flaws & strengths & motivations - but not for this one. This time, I'm throwing you to the wolves. (But can I ever truly provide no nuance at all?) |
Nightmare gives the minions a 'doll' to use however they wish, which leads to the doll getting all types of unrestrained aggression and abuse before eventually being discarded in favor of a new one. The dolls are playthings for the minions to use however they want, bearing the brunt of their emotional & physical outbursts, and occasionally used in missions as decoys or distractions. Nightmare picks them out knowing that the doll will be tormented and the boys will generate the negativity & toxicity he loves so much, allowing them to propagate the cycle of abuse.
Notes: Main tw: physical abuse, but viewer discretion is advised for all of this, so if you're easily disturbed, you should steer clear.
I'm doing something rather out of character, but because this one is so long (and writing short stories is becoming a trend), I decided to split this into 2 parts. Not that the 2 parts are gonna be short, but yk. I should really think about renaming this book 'Sans AU Short Stories'... (or make a whole separate book for all the long ones where I can break them up into multiple, more digestible parts)

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(Y/n) wound her way down the halls of the castle, only half sure she was going the right way, and the further she went, the more confident she became that she was well and truly lost. It already felt hard to breathe, like a binder was holding her ribs crushingly tight to her lungs, unable to let them expand in case a scream of horror needed to leave her lips in that precise moment where she might be breathing in a shaky gasp of air. Though that wasn't far off from reality. The one time she ran into Horror while the others weren't around, he made sure she knew how generous he was feeling by not lobbing her head off with the metal ax attached to his back - though she doubted her scream would even reach the suffocating air before it was cut off so ruthlessly.

The thought of the eerie skeleton made her shiver and her feet moved faster under her, head swinging side to side like a pendulum in the hopes of catching a familiar landmark to guide her, but everything looked the same, every turn she took felt like she was teleported back to the start of the hallway she just vacated, and she was on the brink of breaking down into tears when she finally caught a wisp of smoke escaping a room with a cracked door.

(Y/n) stopped outside it, her heart calming to a more natural rhythm as she pushed it open to find Dust draped over a couch facing away from her. A cigarette pinched between his teeth decorated the air with smoke, and she batted the clouds away from her mouth as she silently approached the back of the couch, coughing quietly into her fist. Dust refused to acknowledge her, so her gaze drifted to the TV, where his video game character was fighting against another in Super Smash Bros to the frantic clicks of him mashing buttons. She wasn't sure if he was winning but his complete concentration suggested he knew what he was doing, so she bent over the back of the couch with a sigh, crossing her arms across the top to watch.