Mafiatale Sans x female reader (Possession)

Uncalled For

     "i could tell you the same, Asgore." 

     "What can I say, was it the mask, or was it my love for the color red?" Asgore jokes.

     "it's hard to tell..." Sans responds sarcastically.

     The tension in the air was visibly present coming from the two leaders while one of them in particular didn't seem to be providing any sign of conflict.

     "Why don't we take a seat and tell me what's on your mind—" 

     Asgore began heading towards the best seats in the house that he had reserved for himself and his other multiple exceptions. The entire section of seats were closed off by a heavily draped curtain that secluded viewers of the hallway, revealing to them the great height and view of the neighboring balconies below and across, along with the massive stage that seemed smaller than where Sans was previously sitting.

     "Such a spectacular view; everyone down below looks like a colony of ants, serving their king."

     Sans knew what Asgore was doing as he tried not to let Asgore get under his non existent skin.

     "how's about we stop bumping gums and start talkin' business. why are you here exactly and why are you suddenly interested in mettaton's gigs? you're not doing business here with someone else are you?"

     "It's only a show, can't a man have some fun these days?" Asgore grins.

     Asgore continues to silently stare down at the crowd of monsters, his rectangular pupils darting around as if he was searching for someone in particular. He stops looking over the balconies and leans back into his larger and comfier chair. Sans sits a seat away from Asgore and grips the arm of his chair in frustration by Asgore's seemingly innocent comment.

     "don't give me that bull, or i'm gonna have to give this place a reason to stop the show from going on." Sans implies.

     "Oh Sans, what makes you think that I'm up to something? I'm not here on any sort of business, unless— you think I'm here to take my revenge on you from stealing my human that I rightfully caught."

     "she was never yours to take."

     Asgore became amused by Sans' statement.

     "So what did you do to the fragile thing? Tell me, did you kill it?"

     "of course i killed her, why would I keep something alive that's more useful being dead?"

     "How was it killing something that doesn't turn into dust once it's dead? Did you let the body rot, or did you dispose of it immediately?"

     At this point, Sans was slowly clawing at the arm of his chair and leaving behind scratch marks. He was writhing in anger at the way Asgore referred to (y/n) as 'thing' or 'it', as if she was nothing more than a piece of flesh. 

     "i didn't like the idea of the body laying around, so I burned it." Sans continued to lie.

     "And what about the soul? Did you manage to retrieve it before it shattered into tiny little pieces?" Asgore was completely intrigued.

     "—that's none of your business." 

     "Please, you were kind enough to tell me what you did with the corpse, you might as well tell what you did with th—." 

     "i said leave it." Sans snaps and looks at Asgore with a single glowing blue eye.

     "From what it sounds like, you weren't able to retrieve the soul in time."