Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12063963.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Undertale_(Video_Game)
  Relationship:
      Asgore_Dreemurr/Sans, Asgore_Dreemurr/Papyrus, Asgore_Dreemurr/Sans/
      Papyrus
  Character:
      Sans_(Undertale), Papyrus_(Undertale), Asgore_Dreemurr
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Underfell, Sansgore, Papgore, Underage_-_Freeform,
      Rape/Non-con_Elements, Violence, Power_Dynamics, Sexual_Violence, Sexual
      Abuse, Painful_Sex, Tearing, Size_Kink, Minor_Character_Death
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-09-12 Words: 2914
****** Property of the State ******
by idontevenknowugh
Summary
     Sans doesn’t take Papyrus and run after killing Gaster. And that’s a
     very poor choice.
Notes
     The expanded 100 word drabble I promised ages ago. >_< Sorry for the
     delay. I really wanted to get it up, so I’m taking a little break
     from schoolwork to do so.
     I feel like this needs a liiiiitle context. Basically, I am using
     Mustard’s origin story and the head canons I have for his version of
     the Underground. I’m changing one major thing, though.
     <3 to my beta, @sindontquit. <3
See the end of the work for more notes
“Sans?” Papyrus asked quietly, scared. It broke his heart.
Papyrus was never quiet anymore. He was never scared. Papyrus was the bravest
monster he knew.
How could he have let this happen? Why had he responded when he heard Papyrus’s
dear voice through the phone? Let the phone be taken from him, so instructions
could be given?
Sans didn’t have an answer for Papyrus, even if he had been able to speak. Even
if he hadn’t been mindlessly riding Asgore’s painfully large cock, two of the
king’s fingers shoved into his mouth so his drool was slowly staining the fur
red. Asgore held Sans’s spine to his chest, so he heard the words vibrate
through his bones as the king answered for him. He started to cry.
“Your brother is a little busy. Why don’t you come help him?”
———
It had been a simple enough arrangement. Or it had seemed simple enough,
anyways.
Sans had been offered the job after they lost their legal guardian and ended up
wards of the state. He was told they were lucky. Most orphans-- and there were
many-- were on the street. They got tangled up in the gangs and from there
often enjoyed the tender mercy of the Guard.
Sans and Papyrus, however…
Sans and Papyrus were the offspring (technically) of the Royal scientist.
Doctor Gaster had been Asgore’s dear personal friend, and he could hardly leave
his progeny to fend for themselves. Not to mention, the Crown had a vested
interest in the inheritors of monsterkind’s brightest mind. Sans only realized
later that had been code.
They were the property of the Crown.
Since they had been created by Gaster while he was working for Asgore, Asgore
owned them. Sans wished bitterly that he had understood that back then. He
wished that he had known anything about the world besides the temporal theory
Gaster had forced on him. He wished he hadn't been naive enough to assume
Gaster was the exception rather than the rule.
Asgore had opened up a room at the castle for them. They could have each had
their own, but Sans politely declined, terrified to reject the King’s
generosity.
He would never let them be separated again.
Asgore had smiled and agreed. He had poured Sans more tea. He had offered him a
job.
“You will be given a small, easy assignment to explain your salary,” Asgore
explained in deceptively patient tones. Sans nodded along, awestruck at the
very idea of having a salary.
In this last month living at the palace he had quickly learned that gold was at
the center of everything. If he wanted to take care of Papyrus, he would need
gold.
A few days later, the monsters who looked after their rooms and brought them
food started to act strange, giving Sans strange looks and trying to give him
little gifts. Some chocolates, which he gave to Papyrus, a forbidden glass of
wine, and a very nice fluffy jacket that made him look twice his size.
He almost felt like a real monster.
——
Asgore gave him his assignments over more tea. He explained carefully what the
monster had done, how they were a gang member and an EXP hunter. He expressed
his concern over the dusted monsters and the effect this kind of behavior had
on the city. He filled Sans with pretty words about how he was doing the
Underground and its residents a service.
Sans bought it all, hook, line, and sinker. He should have been wary of the
King, but the goat monster kept his voice low and soft when he talked to the
skeletons. He was helping them. Asgore had none of Gaster’s cold cruelty.
Somehow it didn’t hit him that Gaster worked for Asgore until it was too late.
The King’s patience ended, or perhaps he was just struck by an odd whim. Sans
never found out if Asgore had intended this all along. He never found out
anything. Asgore had no reason to explain himself to Sans, of all monsters.
Sans was already trapped, more dependent on the Crown than ever. More directly
than when Asgore’s gold funded his and Papyrus’s ‘upkeep’ and torture in the
labs.
He hadn't expected Sans to resist.
“What happened?” Papyrus exclaimed, rushing over to Sans. The monster helping
him walk was prudently silent, leaving Sans to grope for an answer. He needed
something that wouldn’t be easy to find out as a lie.
“I, uh, went exploring around Waterfall…” Sans said, thankful that Papyrus was
oblivious to the uncertainty in his voice. “Ya know how slippery it can get.”
Papyrus nodded gravely, and Sans was struck with the fact that his brother did
know. He had seen Waterfall, Hotland, and even the outskirts of Snowdin. He had
gotten to experience the Underground, at least, free and-- more importantly-
- safe, having gone with Sans and a few members of the Guard.
He smiled at the memory of Papyrus the night after, so full of energy and
excitement that he couldn’t be persuaded to lay down, let alone sleep. He’d
babbled endlessly about everything he’d seen, even though Sans had seen it too.
His smile faded as he remembered the conversation shifting to the Guard. To how
Papyrus had decided to join the Guard. He wanted to be tall and strong and
protect the monsters of the Underground. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to
serve the Crown…
———
“…but it's right there! You’re wearing it!”
“Wearing what?” He asked, drawing on the magic Papyrus had given him to summon
a row of deadly sharp bones.
“Don't play dumb! The jacket. So just drop this and let me go.” The monster
cried nervously, backing away from Sans.
He hadn't. The bones streaked forward, only about half hitting. That was
enough. Sans’s own magic took care of the rest of the monster’s HP, draining it
to zero while he screamed and begged. His sins had been his undoing. Sans liked
that. He turned and walked out of the hall of judgement with a smile on his
face.
Dusty footprints trailed after him to their room, accompanied by the whispers
of the castle staff. He was glad when the door to their room shut and he could
sleep off the exertion. Stripping down, he crawled into bed and napped the
afternoon away.
While they ate dinner, someone came in to change their bedding. Sans looked up
from a story about Papyrus's tour of the city to see them staring at the bed,
still and silent.
Before Sans could ask, the sheets were violently ripped off the bed. When the
monster turned, he saw it was the bunny who had given him the coat. She didn't
normally change the bed, Sans thought idly.
Glaring at them with wet eyes, she balled the sheets up and ran from the room.
The gifts stopped coming.
Sans used the money Asgore gave him to buy Papyrus chocolates.
——
“Good,” Ashore huffed, when Sans took his not-so-subtle threat to soul and sat
down on one of the King’s spread legs. The feeling of rock hard muscle under
his pelvis made Sans sit perfectly straight and still, his joints all but
paralyzed. Asgore had to nudge his legs apart to rub along the front of his
shorts.
It was too much, the boss monster’s strength telling even in that motion. Sans
yelped and regained motion, mindless panicked motion, pulling away from the
crushing force against his pelvis. His bones creaked and strained under the
thoughtless strength of the King.
Asgore cursed and grabbed his leg, this time just stopping short of breaking
the bone.
“Hold still,” he grumbled, and Sans did, or did his best to. Tremors wracked
his body as it was rubbed, fondled, and licked while he perched on the King’s
lap.
That, Asgore didn’t seem to mind.
His chest rumbled with a pleased noise when Sans’s magic finally began to react
to the molestation, gathering around and within his pelvis. Sans flushed red
and moaned shamefully whenever the King came in contact with it.
The busy schedule of a monarch saved him from anything more than touching.
That day.
——
“I don't want to,” Sans asserted, or tried to, his voice breaking with fear.
Asgore scoffed, dismissing Sans’s plea, his rights, and his whole monsterhood
at once.
Sans tried to run.
It only took one of Asgore’s huge hands to hold Sans down. It covered his
entire rib cage, almost, two of the king’s fingers resting on either side of
his skull. The skin between them applied painful pressure to his cervical
vertebrae. He struggled, trying to wriggle free, but there was no chance.
His shorts may as well have been made of paper, for how well they stood up to
Asgore. His pelvis bare, Sans struggled harder, even though he already knew it
was pointless. His body just acted on its own, thrashing his limbs and spilling
whimpers, cries, and pleas out of his mouth. None of it even warranted a
response, let alone stayed Asgore’s hand as it rubbed insistently along his
pubic syphysis.
He stopped when San’s magic had collected around his pelvis. It hovered,
shapeless and uncertain, just like Sans. What, exactly, was it supposed to do
now?
He didn't find out that day.
Asgore’s cock was as unreasonable as he was, pressing against Sans, the magic
within pressing back. He could feel the edges of the head of touch the entire
rim of his pelvic inlet as the King urged it forward.
When he forced it inside, Sans screamed.
——
“Hello! Sans?” Papyrus’s voice had been excited as the phone clicked with the
opened connection. Sans’s unhelpful mind pushed forward the fact that he'd
promised to talk to Asgore about the Guard today. He’d even meant to, before
the King had dragged him into his lap.
Most thoughts had fled at that point.
“Sans?” Papyrus asked again. Sans steadied himself by grabbing the thick fur of
Asgore’s stomach and tried to speak normally, despite Asgore shifting under
him, making his member move inside of Sans. It stretched his magical flesh far
too much, to the point it rubbed against his spine. To the point it felt like
it might tear.
“H-hey… yeah, it’s- ah! m-me.” Sans gasped, failing entirely as Asgore bounced
him in his lap mid-sentence. Thankfully?- Papyrus didn't seem to notice.
Unfortunately, he immediately started talking, causing an interested rumble to
move through Asgore.
“What did the King say? Was he impressed? Should I come down there?”
Sans moaned with grief, whereas Asgore rocked with barely contained laughter.
He pulled the phone away from Sans and lifted it to his ear, even though it was
still on speaker. Probably just to make him listen.
“Why yes, please do, Papyrus. I think I would enjoy getting to know you
better.”
Sans sobbed as he heard his little brother reply enthusiastically that he would
be right there. Asgore gave him directions to come to his house within the
castle, and hung up.
Hearing the sound of the call disconnect hit Sans with the thought-- the
knowledge-- that he should have warned Papyrus off. Even if it meant exposing
what he had become, he should have shouted. At the cost of his own miserable,
worthless life he should have protected his baby brother.
And he’d blown it.
“He has become quite the outgoing young man, hasn't he?” Asgore commented, his
hand roaming across Sans and cupping his entire rib cage. “I remember when we
first found you two, how he would just cower behind you.”
Sans wailed, the pain in his body drowned out by the pain in his soul.
“If we happen to be done by the time he gets here, we can sit down to a nice
cup of tea.”
Sans groaned and willed his aching legs to start moving. It didn't matter that
they were splayed unnaturally around the too large girth. It didn't matter that
Asgore hadn't promised anything.
Sans’s body inched up, the cock almost as painful sliding out of him as it had
been going in. The magic eased back into its natural state behind it with a
sense of aching relief. He stopped short of removing the head, the hardest part
to get into his narrow inlet.
Trembling, he hovered above Asgore’s lap, every part of him screaming not to do
it. His sockets lost their light as he gasped with the effort of suspending
himself there, but fear wouldn't let him lower himself.
It wouldn't have mattered if Asgore had promised.
“Agh!” Sans cried, letting gravity finally take over to pull his small body
down onto Asgore’s member. It burned, the way it re-stretched magic that had
just started to stop hurting. If anything, it was worse than before, but now
that he had started, he had to keep going.
He was the King. He wouldn't have to honor any promise, spoken or unspoken.
But it was the only chance Sans had left.
-----
“You’re still a thin little thing, aren't you?” Asgore laughed, removing his
hand from Sans’s mouth and lifting Sans off of him with it. “At least you're
gaining some height.”
Papyrus shifted uncomfortably, looking between Sans and Asgore. His gaze darted
around Sans, like he was trying to figure out what he was doing.
Sans whined as the large, flared head popped free from him. Something started
to run down his leg as soon as it was clear.
He was pretty sure he had never become aroused from anything Asgore had done.
“Sans?” Papyrus asked again as Sans was dumped into a boneless heap in front of
him. He touched Sans’s scapula, making him flinch, which in turn startled
Papyrus into jerking his hand away.
“Let’s have a look at you,” the King grunted, not giving them a chance to do
anything, say anything. Papyrus’s skull jerked up to him, while Sans huddled
deeper into his ruined body.
Sans thought about how it must look. His stunted frame barely came up to
Asgore’s hips standing. Currently, he was bent in half, pelvis dripping and
stuck up in the air.
One of those large hands reached for Papyrus, and Sans reacted without
thinking. Bones appeared all around them, aimed at the king.
He was going to get them killed.
Asgore actually stopped. He was still half a foot from taking hold of Papyrus,
and he stopped and looked around at the bones. And laughed.
“Oh, Sans. Will your naivety ever end?” Asgore rumbled through his laughter.
Sans turned his skull to look up at his face, which was grinning cruelly.
Asgore’s right eye flashed and he swung his arm out, shattering half the bones.
His left eye flashed and that arm did the same, shattering the rest.
Even though the attack hadn't hit, Sans’s magic should have started chipping
away at Asgore’s health proportional to his sins.
He had many sins.
If it did, Asgore didn't show it. Sans went to check him, but he was quickly
dragged off the ground by his leg. He spent a brief, terrifying moment dangling
in the air, and then was dropped back into Asgore’s lap. His cheek was pressed
against the king’s member, raw magic smearing across his face. Had he actually
hurt Asgore?
His eyelights extinguished as he remembered the pain, the something seeping
from his, likely, ruined magic.
“Sans!” Papyrus was yelling. Now was not the time to worry about that. Sans
lifted his skull, but Asgore held it down with one hand.
“He’ll be fine, come here.”
Papyrus’s voice continued in yelps and denials and sounds of fear. Sans
struggled to free himself, soul pounding wildly in terror. Asgore was going to
violate Papyrus. Even though his cock was with Sans, there were so many other
things he could do to Papyrus. Each time the member gave an excited twitch,
Sans died a little more inside and renewed his efforts, pushing against the
boss monster’s hand.
“Let us go! I’m going to kill you!” Papyrus was screaming, but it tapered off
to ragged, broken sobs. Sans sagged, wetness spreading from his sockets to the
fur under his face until Asgore finally released him.
He looked up. Papyrus was close, far too close. He was across Asgore’s other
leg, straddling it, while Asgore held him to his chest. Papyrus was still
struggling, but barely. His legs kicked ineffectually and his hands pressed
against the king’s chest as the boss monster leaned down to nuzzle his skull.
“How delightful,” Asgore rumbled, “now I have my pick.”
“N-no,” Sans protested, still moving thanks to the panic that ran through his
bones.
Asgore turned one terrible eye towards him, and Sans felt his soul shrivel in
fear. He wasn't going to be able to protect Papyrus, was he? It was a joke to
think he ever would have been able to.
Sans crawled shakily to knees, whimpers of pain escaping him.
“Sans?” Papyrus asked hoarsely. Sans just shook his skull. There was no point
worrying about him. He was already broken. It only made sense for him to crawl
back over Asgore’s member, so Papyrus wouldn't have to.
Sans lowered himself with a gasp, his magic protesting with sharp, stabbing
pain. Papyrus was crying, but this was all Sans could do.
There was no way out. They weren't even real monsters. First, they were
experiments. Then, Sans became a weapon. Now... they were just things, Sans
realized. And things only exist to be used.
End Notes
     My tumblr is where I: take requests, post streams, chit chat, do
     teasers, try out new fics, reblog a lot of skeleton porn, pimp all my
     favorite fics
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