Only You {Gaster!Sans X Reader}
  • Reads 4,310
  • Votes 161
  • Parts 20
  • Time 1h 52m
  • Reads 4,310
  • Votes 161
  • Parts 20
  • Time 1h 52m
Ongoing, First published Aug 02, 2016
Mature
Pain. Pain is all you really felt anymore. Sometimes physical, sometimes emotionally, sometimes even both. You lived with your abusive father, brother, and sister. Your parents devorced long ago, and your father blamed it on you that she left. Why? Because he hated you, and blamed everything on you. 

You were always trying to be on your best behavior so you wouldn't get beaten. They barely feed you. Although your the one that makes all the food...Once they even forced you to eat out of your dogs food bowl. 

Did your brother and sister care? Of course not. They only laughed and watched. Then when you ended up getting sick and throwing up they all laughed as you threw up into the toilet. You had to clean anyway, why make it difficult? 

Paddles, beer bottles, leather belts. You've been hit by them all. But you couldn't tell, you were to scared. You have to leave. But theres no where to go. Or is there..?
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(Adult Lazarus here - I wrote this when I was like 14 years old. Forgive me.) Sometimes life gets to the point where you feel like you're a paper airplane. One minute you're soaring, feeling as if nothing could ever get you down. But then the next thing you know, you're falling slowly and nothing that you can do can possibly help you. You end up falling and crashing into whatever's below you and the heights that you had once reached. Then it starts all over again - becoming a vicious cycle. Someone picks you back up and throws you, making you soar yet again. But then they watch as you fall, not stopping you or saving you from the hard impact you meet with the ground. The process repeats itself over and over and there's no way you can stop it. After all, you're made of paper - you're delicate, fragile. You're thrown, you soar, you fall, you're picked back up, then it happens all over again until you break - becoming bent and broken from your head to your toes. Until you crash so much that you're ruined - then you're thrown away. At those times, you know that you at least have one person who will fix you. He calls you his queen, as any king would whilst in power of the empire you both strive to build together. This person is your home - your empire. - #6 in Quotes [03.12.21] - #2 in Sans [10.21.21] - Undertale does not belong to me. - Artwork/Music does not belong to me. - Also, I apologize for any of the spelling errors. I type quickly and so I do not really realize if I misspell a word or two. Sometimes I do go back and edit out the mistakes with spelling and such.
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In the midst of Tokyo's bustling streets, you led a life that appeared ordinary, despite your role as a leader in a prominent gang. Yet, beneath the façade of normalcy, you carried the weight of profound loss-your mother, your father, your brother-all taken from you, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill. Determined to shield yourself from further heartache, you resolved to protect the one remaining person you held dear: Frisk. Their presence brought light into your shadowed existence, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness of your past. But fate had other plans. The dissolution of your gang shattered the fragile stability you had built, leaving you adrift in a world that suddenly seemed hostile and unfamiliar. Yet, in the aftermath of this upheaval, you found solace in Frisk's unwavering companionship, their presence a beacon of comfort in a sea of uncertainty. Then, in a cruel twist of fate, you lost Frisk. Cast into the unfathomable depths of the underground, your path collided with Aliza's, a chance encounter marked by the ominous presence of Horror Sans. Emerging from the shadows, his hollow eye sockets bore into your soul, his grin sending shivers down your spine-a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within the depths of the unknown. With each loss, the world seemed to grow colder, more indifferent to your struggles. Yet, amidst the despair and desolation, a glimmer of resilience flickered within you, a quiet determination to reclaim what had been taken from you, no matter the cost.
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