(Sans x Reader) When Two Souls Meet

Knives and Nooses

Sans' Perspective

"(Y/N)," I hiss, "we need to talk. Now."

I promptly get up and storm into the living room, then turn and watch (Y/N) as she shuffles reluctantly after me. Her face is drawn tight in apprehension, and her gaze doesn't leave the floor. That's good—she knows she's in for a bad time.

"Sit," I say, gesturing towards the couch. She does as I ask, and then risks a glance up at me. I cross my arms and glower at her. "So... monsters killed your parent, huh?"

"Sans, I-I can explain—"

"I don't wanna hear your explanations," I growl, my voice dangerously quiet. "Do you have any idea what you've done? Any at all?"

"I-I—"

"I can't believe it," I mutter, chuckling darkly. "I always knew that there had to be a reason, but this? This is just... heh. A lie. My life is hell, because you told the kid a single, measly, stupid little white lie."

"Sans, I don't... I don't understand," she says. "What do you—"

"Do you really need me to spell it out for you?" I hiss. I teleport to the space directly in front of her and plant a hand onto the wall beside her head. She flinches, and looks at me with something akin to fear on her face. "You, (Y/N), are the reason Frisk starts killing. You cause the genocide runs."

The color drains out of (Y/N)'s face, and she stares at me in absolute horror, a shaking hand making its way to her mouth.

"W-what?" she stammers.

"Chara doesn't always possess Frisk," I say pensively, pointedly turning my back to her. "Why? She wants to destroy everything—why not try every single timeline? Why give Frisk the chance to break the barrier?"

"It's simple, if you think about it," I continue, looking at (Y/N) from the corner of my eye. "It's because she can't. There's no other explanation. And if that's the case... then what's different about a genocide run that allows her to take over Frisk?"

I turn back to face her, smiling so hard that my teeth hurt.

"The kid has to kill. It's that first kill that sets the stage for everything else. But what would drive our sweet, innocent little Frisk to do something like that?" I ask sarcastically. "Oh, I know. How about coming face to face with her parents' so-called murderers?"

"Sans, that wasn't my intent!" (Y/N) cries, her voice overflowing with conviction. "I'm so sorry! If I had known that monsters existed, I never would have—"

"Sorry? Sorry?! It's a little too late for that, don't ya' think?"

"Sans, please—"

"Do you have any idea how it feels?! To stand on the sidelines, watching as every friend you've ever had turns to dust?! To watch your own brother die at the hands of a psychopath, when all he ever did was welcome them with open arms?!"

(Y/N) opens her mouth to protest, but she closes it again with one look at my livid expression. Instead, her hands are slowly clenching on the material of the couch, as though she needs something to anchor her.

"Sans, I—"

"That's an agony I have to live with every night, (Y/N). Every. Single. Night," I hiss. "I can't so much as close my eyes without seeing his body disintegrate, without seeing the kid holding a knife in her hand."