Sans AU One-Shots

Killer❀ || 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: Killer Sans x Female Reader
Prompt: Nightmare brings you to his castle to serve as the skeletons' newest doll, forcing you to be Killer's stand-in for a blow-up doll then diced into Horror's stew for dinner, and you have no choice but to comply because you agreed to sign your life away to Nightmare. But you can't seem to remember signing this agreement. As a fiercely independent person that's had to make tough choices to get where you are, relying on anybody else is never one you'd make - but you're left with no choice when your only other option is being eaten.
Type: long story with smut throughout
Length: 8.3k + 11k + 13.2k = 32k 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: sexual servitude/prostitution, but viewer discretion is advised for all of this, so if you're easily disturbed, you should steer clear. Warning: Killer does not, at any point in the story, take you by force (i.e. grape you), and I'd also like to remind you that painful sex doesn't mean it's nonconsensual.
This one involves sexual services in exchange for something, namely selling your body (prostitution) in exchange for your survival (Killer keeps you alive/protects you). People will sacrifice their morals if it means their survival, and none of this is meant to be idealized - just like pretty much everything in this one-shot series.

Oh, and I forgot to add: you don't have to read the previous 'dolls.' one-shots with Horror or Dust. As always, these can be treated as standalones, but if you're going to read them, I'd recommend reading in order. 
Also, I might've written this entire one-shot forgetting that I wrote the others in 3rd person 😅 Legit thought I checked before I started writing but I'm an idiot so that's my bad (it's a little too long for me to fix it too so apologies 🙏)

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The second the ground became solid beneath my feet, I felt the world tip and reached out to grab the man that teleported me here, managing to close my hand around a slimy black tentacle before I could crumble to the floor right in front of him. His teeth pulled back in pure disgust and the tentacle slipped from my grasp, but I'd already regained my balance. The gunk sticking to my fingers faded from my mind as my gaze traveled the hallway I found myself in, lit with torches and lined on either side by brick walls. He wasn't lying, it really was a castle.

Now that we could see each other properly, I could take in every snide curve of the skeleton beside me's features as he similarly inspected me in the torch's light. "The eyes are much too far apart, that nose is befitting of an elephant, and the figure..." He scoffed under his breath. "I should have known better than to hope. It is all wrong." He pulled the cloak over his shoulders around himself like he was royalty walking beside a mangy peasant.