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[mangus-khan-blog]

REBLOG: DustyReviews’s SWS

Six Word Story #151 Hi, welcome to the DustyWrites subsection of DustyReviews.com. If you like what you read and you would like to read more, the repository of my … Six Word Story #151

[all-the-lovely-newsies]

What A Moment Can Do (Chapter 5)

Chapter One / On Ao3

Chapter Two / On Ao3

Chapter Three / On Ao3

Chapter Four / On Ao3 

Summary: Specs visits the Refuge!

Triggers: Reference to previous injuries. Nothing too graphic. 

(OR READ ON Ao3)

Specs stared up at the one place he vowed to never return. The unmarked, desolate building surrounded by a tall cement wall loomed in front of him, casting a long, dark shadow.

The Refuge.

He shouldn’t be here, he knew. He should have just turned around when he knew he was safe but memories flashed before his eyes of his short stay in Hell. There was no way he could get Crutchie out, but he had to make sure he was at least conscious. Specs knew the terrible things that could happen, he’d experienced it both firsthand- granted years ago- and through the return of some of his fellow newsies.  Memories of Romeo returning made him shudder. The boy’s warm smile and flirty nature permanently tampered with, despite how far he’d come. But then there were others, like Race and Jack, who’d been in and out more times than he could count.

Specs sighed, Jack was still missing, gone off to who knows where. Hell, he could be in there too for all Specs knew. He doubted it, although he bolted at the first sign of trouble and only saw the full heat of everything when the newsies trickled into the lodging house one by one, each sporting a worse wound than the last. Then Davey came running in, head bleeding, begging to know the location of his brother, and rambling about Crutchie getting taken away.

So, here he was. Specs took a deep breath and walked the length of the wall. After a bit of searching he found a hole just big enough for him to squeeze his lanky body through and bolted toward the fire escape. There were so many windows, so many rooms Crutchie could be in, how could he possibly find the right one? He let out a huff as he climbed up the fire escape, careful not to slip or make too much noise. The last thing he needed was to get caught. Doing so wasn’t easy, however, as the fire escape was on its last legs to begin with and any sudden shift in weight caused it to creak and shake.

Without any logical place to start, Specs went up to the first barred window and peered in. The sight immediately sent into a spiral of memories of his time spent in the horrendous place. The room was packed with kids, just as dirty, and just as frighteningly quiet.

Although he was more rebellious in his younger years, the Refuge calmed him down quickly. The only thing that kept him going was Romeo, the young, poor boy who flirted with anything with a pulse, even if it earned him a black eye or time in solitary. Specs smiled thinking about the boy who was waiting for him back at the lodging house. The one he promised to come back for, and the real reason he took extra caution.

The sound on an opening window shocked Specs back to reality. Shit, he thought and fell back onto his butt in surprise. He looked up expecting to see a guard- or worse- but instead met the eyes of a dark-skinned boy. Unfortunately, he looked just as angry as any guard would have been.

“Who’re you?” the boy questioned.

“I- uh- uh-”

“Wha’re ya doin’ here? Just sittin around like a ninny? You’se wanna get caught or sumthin’?”

“No, I- uh” Specs cleared his throat, “I’m looking for someone. Got in yesterday. Uses a crutch?” The boy’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.

“We ain’t had no new people. So get along ‘fore I get in trouble,” the boy went to close the window but Specs leaped up and grabbed the bars.

“Wait, please!” The boy stopped. “Look, I really gotta find him. I-I gotta. ‘N I don’t have time to look in every window. Please,” Specs looked at the boy with pleading eyes.

“Look, we don’t get out much, a’ght. And when we do,” the boy raised his hand gently to a bruise on the side of his head, “it ain’t like it’s ta mingle.” Specs hung his head and started to turn away. The boy let out a frustrated sigh, “Look, I ain’t saying this means anything, but there has been a lot a ruckus down this hall recently. So, if I was you, I’d continue down this line a windows.”

With that, the boy wished Specs good luck and closed the window. Specs sighed,  at least it was a start.

He made his way down the fire escape walkway, each just as unsuccessful as the first. He looked at the last window with dread, sure it wasn’t the last window in the place, but every minute he spent was another minute Crutchie was in the dark, and he was a minute closer to getting caught.

There was also the possibility that Crutchie wasn’t in any of these rooms. Specs shuddered at the memory of the isolation cell, or basement that he had heard rumors of. He had seen boys disappear and never return down there, and Jack had confided small bits of information about it.

Sure, Crutchie was tough, sure, just as tough as any other newsie, but no one could last long in a place like that. A place that coated Specs’ mischievous and carefree attitude with dirt, sweat, and blood. Layered on so thick that there was no finding the boy he once was. He changed, just as much as nearly everyone who’d been there. Specs just feared the change it would bring to the optimistic boy everyone had come to rely on.

Specs sighed and knocked on the final window, it took a moment, but Specs could see some blurry figures moving through the dirty glass. The window creaked open and Specs met the eyes of a dirty-faced, confused boy. Before he had a chance to ask, Specs sputtered out, “Crutchie. I’m looking for Crutchie. He here?”

He looked at the boy with pleading eyes. The boy’s eyebrows pinched together but slowly he nodded and turned away. Specs’ eyes lit up and he sprang closer to the window, his hands clenched the bars and his eyes furiously scanned the room, now clear from the grime of the window. He watched impatiently as the boy gathered someone from the ground on the other side of the room. Specs rubbed his glasses against his shirt to make sure he was seeing clearly- it was Crutchie!

Specs let out a laugh as Crutchie approached the window, supported by his crutch and the shoulder of the other boy.

“Thanks, Ten-Pin” Crutchie dismissed the boy. Ten-Pin gave one last warning glance at Crutchie and left the duo. “Specs!” Crutchie reached his hand out the window and through the bars. “What’re ya doin’ here?” Specs grabbed his hand.

“To see you of course. We needed to make sure that you were okay.”

“Of course I’m okay,” his smile faltered a bit, “never better.” Specs’ smile fell, finally noticing the bruises and cuts covering his friends’ face and arms. The deep purple circles under his eyes were barely noticeable next to the black eye he was sporting.

“You look like shit,” it came out more blunt than Specs intended, but there was no beating around it.

“You’se too kind,” Crutchie looked down and chuckled. Suddenly, his eyes went wide, “How’s uh, how’s ev’ryone else? They all okay?” He strained his head to try and look past Specs, “Is anyone else here? Where’s Jack?”  

Specs fought away the shakiness of his voice, “Ah, you know Jack. He’s off doing something important with Davey. Keeping the strike going and all that, yeah? Our Jack, always up ta something.” He couldn’t admit to Crutchie that no one knew where he was, or if he was even alive, but evidently it was the wrong thing to say, as Crutchie’s eyes dropped.

“Yeah, sure, right.”

“But- but uh- the first thing he wanted to do was make sure you were okay. Yeah, and he sent me straight here to see you. So, uh, you-you okay?” Sure Specs was lying through his teeth, but this was the best he could do for the moment.

There was a long stretch of silence between the two boys. A loud hacking cough from deep in the room broke Specs’ concentration. When he looked back at Crutchie, Tears threatened the corners of his eyes.  

“I’se okay Specs,” he sank his head down to rest it against the bars, “but you’se and the boys gotta stay away from here. It aint-” the tears flowed down his face, over his nose and cheeks. Specs just stared, he couldn’t remember the last time he saw Crutchie cry. They were all hardened by the life they were given, but it wasn’t unusual to see another newsie with puffy eyes after a particularly rough day or a nightmare. But Crutchie, Crutchie always seemed to be immune to that. He was the one everyone went to for comfort, the one all the littles immediately clung to. He was patient, understanding, and could always walk away from the situation with matching smiles. But here he was, the mask breaking, tears streaming through the cracks. Now it was Specs’ turn to return the favor. He reached up and grabbed Crutchie’s hand, trying to ignore the way Crutchie reflexively flinched away. He gave the hand a slight squeeze in reassurance. Crutchie glanced up at him, tears still fresh in his eyes.

“You’re going to be okay,” Specs spoke with a newly found confidence, “I’ll get Jack. We’ll win this strike, and you’re going to be okay. We all are. Just wait and see.” Crutchie smiled and nodded weakly.

“I never doubted you’se. But, uh, you don’t gotta make Jack come. I know what this place has done ta him.” Specs nodded. Crutchie’s eyes went wide as he dug his hand deep into his pocket and retrieved a piece of paper. “When you do see Jack, can you give him this?” He held the folded paper out through the window and Specs grabbed it and put it in his own pocket.

“Of course.”

“Hey Specs?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” Specs smiled and gave him a confident nod.

“Crutchie!” Ten-Pin ran up to the window, startling Specs. “There’s someone coming, Stretch heard footsteps. You’se gotta go!” Specs stood frozen for a moment. “Now!” With that Ten-Pin slammed the window closed just as Specs heard the door open. He quickly ducked under the window, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from the foggy window. He was able to make out a few dark shapes of what the supposed guard the kid warned them about. There was the unmistakable sound of muffled screaming and a punch meeting its target. Specs winced and pressed himself up against the wall, hoping that if there was no noise the guard wouldn’t think to look at what they were surrounding the window for.

Specs could hear Crutchie’s muffled voice towards the guard and the gruff voice shouting back. He didn’t dare move until the yelling had ceased behind a slamming door. He took the opportunity to take one last glance through the window, only to be met with stillness. He sighed and felt at the folded paper Crutchie gave him that was tucked in his pocket.  ‘Give this to Jack’ he requested. It was the least he could do. The only problem was that now he had to track down the strike leader. But he owed it to Crutchie to try.

Specs stuffed the paper into his pocket and swiftly climbed down the fire escape. Knowing Jack, if he wasn’t around the other newsies, he didn’t want to be found. And if he didn’t want to be found, it wouldn’t be a happy reunion. Specs leaped down from the last leg of the latter and darted away from the building  toward the lodging house. It was as good as any place to start looking.

TAGLIST:: (Let me know if you want to me added or removed)

@romeo-in-a-trenchcoat @klaineharmony​ @americasfavoritefightingthot  @stripeconlon​ @jd-sammy  @wingedprunepsychiclawyer @nerdgirl453  @waitin-makes-me-antsy

[faerie-stole-my-url]

Hey, so, by the way, I have another Tumblr where I post my writing ( @writingfeatherduster ). Go check it out!

[dustfingerwrites]

Hello there!

I’m not exactly new to Tumblr, but this is the first time I’ve set up a writeblr. I figured I’d throw out an intro post just to get my feet wet.

For anonymity’s sake, you can call me Dusty (they/them pronouns please); I’m a 20-something year old living in the Northeastern United States. I’m currently studying Geography with hopes of a future career in a National Park close to home.

I write as more of a hobby than anything else, and even then, not much. I hope to change that as time goes on.

I generally write poetry and fiction-- prose for the first, horror/fantasy/sci fi for the second. I’m occasionally commissioned to write backstories, lore, etc for characters on other websites.

Current projects? Right now focusing on getting back into writing, with two WIPs in the forefront, both unnamed (and in various stages of conception). The first is a collection of prose about a woman and the literal personification of the earth and the universe, among other beings; the second involves space pirates, sentient planets, and lots and lots of accidental murder.

I will also keep writing my poetry, as that’s my comfy place most of the time.

My favorite parts of writing are self-exploration, world-building, and playing with perspective and language. I love messing around with different ways to present ideas and rephrasing things until it clicks just right.

My main tumblr is @dustfingers-ferret; I’ll be looking for fellow writeblrs to follow here and over there. My writing will be posted under the hashtag #dustywrites, for easy locating later.

Thanks to @alicevanduuren (I may have used your writeblr intro as a way to form mine, as just thinking about writing one made me nervous) and @firewritten for guidance on how to begin.

[hexapyle]

and then i did! you can read it here

hm. might write laiX fic

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

Idk if this is a good prompt but im always a sucker for clothes swap fluff so 👉👈 smth with grillby wearing sans’ jacket maybe?

This is so freaking cute. I might have to write like, three alternate versions of this.

Once again, I think I strayed a bit from expectation writing this one. Also, it’s entirely off-season. And I think I got a bit sloppy at the end, so I apologize for that. If you can’t tell, I don’t think very highly of my own writing. In any case, here’s the one-shot that nearly turned into multiple chapters!

Grillby Looks Good In Blue

Word count: 4961 Summary: When it’s revealed that Grillby doesn’t have a Halloween costume, Frisk comes up with a great idea.

Grillby had never been particularly festive. Even after opening his new bar on the surface, the ‘holiday spirit’ people talked about continued to elude him. The older members of his family didn’t celebrate many holidays, and what celebrations they did have were never more than another family gathering. He enjoyed them, of course. Any opportunity to see his brothers and niece was a welcome one! But he’d never decorated his bar or hosted any sort of seasonally themed party. So, when he learned about the human holiday of ‘Halloween’, he didn’t plan to come up with a costume.

(He planned to close early and hand out candy, of course. He had a soft spot for children.)

The night before Halloween, Grillby’s bar was lively with excited monsters and humans alike. The anticipation for the big night was palpable as people chattered among themselves, talking about their costumes, the best places to get candy, and parties that were going to be held. The sun had only just started to set when the bell above the door rang, a familiar family of monsters entering with a single human child.

“Welcome back,” Grillby greeted with a small smile. The whole gang was there- Toriel, Frisk, Alphys, Undyne, Papyrus, Sans… even Asgore was there. Sans and Frisk made a beeline for the bar while the rest of the group discussed seating arrangements. Grillby started pouring a glass of apple juice for Frisk automatically, placing it in front of them as the child struggled up onto a barstool. “It’s good to see you all again. What’s the occasion?”

Sans shrugged and hopped up into his usual seat. “Well, we’re gonna have a little All Hallows Eve Eve party while we put the finishing touches on everyone’s costumes. Thought that since we’re all here, it’d be nice to go out to eat together. It was mostly Frisk’s idea.”

Grillby chuckled. “Well, I think it was an excellent idea. Now, what can I get the two of you started with?”

The night wore on with plenty of food, drinks, and laughter as everyone caught up with each other. Frisk and Sans went back to sit with the others during dinner, but when it was time for dessert, Frisk was right back up at the bar to talk with Grillby. They were excited to tell him about their costume. “Guess what I’m going as for Halloween!” they demanded, bouncing on their stool.

Grillby set a piece of cake in front of Frisk as he carefully monitored the stool’s stability. “I don’t know, what?”

“Nooooo,” Frisk whined, “That’s not how it works! You have to guess!”

“Alright, alright.” He pretended to think for a moment, tapping his chin. “You’re going to be… adorable,” he teased, ruffling their hair.

Frisk laughed, pushing his hand away. “No, I’m not! I’m going to be scary!”

Grillby shook his head. “Forgive me for being unable to imagine that. What scary thing are you going as, then?”

Frisk was unable to contain their excitement any longer, jumping up on the stool. “I’m going to be a zombie!” they yelled. As they did, the stool teetered beneath them.

Ding! You’re blue now!

Grillby had reached out and grabbed Frisk by the shoulders at the same time Sans turned them blue and levitated them, the unbalanced stool the child was sitting on hitting the floor. Sans walked up to the bar and righted the stool, chuckling as he found a seat of his own. “Careful, kid. Don’t want you partying too hard now.”

Frisk gave both of them a sheepish grin as they were set back on their stool, looking up at Grillby. “Sorry. Anyway, as I was saying, I’m going to be a zombie for Halloween. It was Sans’s idea!” They shoveled a big bite of chocolate cake in their mouth as they looked at the skeleton.

“Yeah,” Sans said with a shrug. “I mean, a supernatural being that keeps coming back to life no matter how many times you’ve killed it? It seems appropriate.”

Grillby wasn’t sure what Sans meant by that, but at that point, he was used to it enough to not bother asking. He turned to Frisk and poured them a glass of milk to go with their dessert. “Well, make sure Sans sends me a picture. I’m sure it will look great.”

Frisk nodded eagerly, taking the glass of milk and drinking half of it in one go. Grillby offered them a napkin before they could wipe their mouth on their sleeve. Frisk took it, scrubbing at their face and smiling up at him. “So,” they asked, “What’s your Halloween costume gonna be?”

“Oh, I’m not really doing anything for Halloween,” Grillby responded as he moved to wipe some crumbs from his bar. “I will be handing out candy, though, if you’d like to stop by.”

“You don’t have a costume?!” Apparently, in Frisk’s mind, this was a horrible tragedy. “But everyone put a costume together! Even Sans made one!”

Papyrus, overhearing this, looked up from where he’d been enjoying a plate of pasta with chocolate sauce. “Wait, Sans, you actually made a costume?! I thought you said you were just going to buy one!”

Sans shrugged. “Yeah, well, everyone else was making their own. Besides, the costume I came up with is a piece of art. You can’t get that at a store.”

Frisk didn’t look impressed. “Sans, your costume is literally a shirt with the word ‘life’ written on it and a bowl of lemon drops.”

“Well, I didn’t really have much to work with. You know what they say- when life gives you lemons…”

Papyrus groaned. “SANS THAT DOESN’T COUNT AS A COSTUME AT ALL!”

Grillby chuckled from behind the bar, fond. “I think it sounds very you, Sans.”

Sans grinned up at him. “Heh, at least someone appreciates my talents. Anyway, Grillbz, the kid is right. It’s our first Halloween on the surface. You gotta do something more than just hand out candy.”

Apparently, everyone was listening at that point, because that was when Alphys stood up. “O-Oh! If, um, if you still n-need a costume, I, uh… w-well I have some material l-leftover from making mine and Undyne’s! I’m sure we can- um- c-come up with some ideas, haha…”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Toriel chimed in. “You should join us for our costume-making party tonight, Grillby. Then you can accompany Frisk with us for trick-or-treating.”

Grillby adjusted his glasses, a bit flustered by all the sudden attention. “I-i wouldn’t want to intrude…”

Undyne laughed, getting up. “Too late, fire dude! If Frisk says you need a costume, then that’s that. Now let’s close this joint and get going already!”

As Undyne and Papyrus began rounding people up and making them go home so Grillby could close the bar, the fire monster chuckled to himself. Maybe, just this once, he could have a little more fun with a holiday.

It felt odd, being in Toriel’s house. Grillby considered the others his friends, but he’d never actually hung out with any of them outside the bar before. Everyone was gathered in the living room, where multiple old bedsheets had been spread on the floor and furniture. The group spread out around the living room as they helped each put finishing touches on their designs with hot glue and paint. “The bedsheets are a clever idea,” Grillby commented lightly as he took a cup of tea from Toriel (he didn’t have the heart to tell her that he usually didn’t drink tea. It was basically just hot flavored water).

The motherly monster smiled, sitting in an armchair and watching the scene in front of her with a fond look in her eye. “Dr. Alphys suggested it. She’s very good at arts and crafts!”

“Speaking of arts and crafts,” Sans interjected from his spot on the couch, “It’s time to figure out what Grillby’s costume is going to be.”

Alphys had a lot of ideas. “Oh! Y-you could go as a gender-bent v-version of Sailor Mars! Or maybe, um, if you c-can burn blue for- for the evening you could go a-a-as Rin Okumura from Blue Exorcist! Oh, I b-bet you could m-make a great Kyoya! Uh, from O-ouran Highschool Host Club?”

...Grillby didn’t understand what she said, but was flattered anyway. Kind of.

Sans decided to step in and rescue Grillby before Alphys put him in cat ears. “While those are all good ideas,” he said thoughtfully, “Maybe we should think of something that we can, y’know, throw together overnight? Plus I’m pretty sure all those characters wear like fancy clothes and stuff. That’s what Grillby wears already. Hardly counts as a costume.”

Papyrus stood up specifically so he could put his hands on his hips. “Well the whole point of a costume is to dress up for the evening! What is Grillby supposed to do? Dress down?”

That gave Frisk an idea. They got up, walking over to Grillby and pulling on his arms to make him stand up. “Come here for a second!” Then, they went and grabbed Sans, pulling him to stand next to Grillby. Frisk took a couple of steps back, rubbing their chin in thought as they inspected the two side-by-side. Apparently, they liked what they saw, because they smiled. “Hey Sans, do you mind if I change your costume a bit?”

“Uhhh, what are we talking about when we say ‘a bit’?” Sans asked, unsure of where Frisk was going with this.

Alphys seemed to catch on, because anyone who has read lots and lots of fanfiction can guess where this is going. “Ohhhh, that’s g-genius, Frisk! But, u-um, Grillby’s a lot taller than Sans.”

Frisk’s smile only widened, the plan coming together in their mind. “Sans’s jacket is big enough! And I’m sure we can find him a white T-shirt that’s big enough!”

The skeleton waved a hand at them, interrupting. “Sans’s jacket is big enough for what?”

Frisk and Alphys shared a mischievous look. Sans looked up at Grillby (who was still confused and clueless) and came to a terrible realization.

He was going to have to tie his shoes for once.

 “Do I really have to keep the shirt tucked in?”

“Yes! Grillby always has his shirt tucked in!”

“A-and don’t- don’t slouch. You have to, um, g-get into character!”

“When did this go from a Halloween costume to full-on cosplay?”

Sans tugged at his suspenders as he inspected the completed outfit. Somehow, Frisk and Alphys had managed to find a white button-up, dress pants, and dress shoes to fit Sans. Grillby’s suspenders could be adjusted down to fit Sans, and bowties tended to be one-size-fits-all, so Sans got to wear the real deal in those departments. Finally, Toriel had taken the lenses out of an old pair of reading glasses she didn’t use and set the frames on Sans’s skull (Frisk taped the sides since Sans didn’t have ears).

The skeleton couldn’t help chuckling. “Man, no wonder Grillby is pretty fit. Getting dressed in this stuff is a whole workout.” It didn’t look bad, though. He glanced upstairs, where Papyrus and Toriel had whisked Grillby away for his ‘transformation’. Sans had already managed to get fully dressed, and his usual outfit was way simpler than Grillby’s. What was taking so long?

The others seemingly had the same thought. Undyne crossed her arms, walking to the base of the stairs. “HEY PAPYRUS! WHAT’S THE HOLD UP?!” she yelled through the house.

Papyrus cracked the door to Toriel’s room open for a moment. “JUST BE PATIENT, UNDYNE!”

Toriel pushed the door the rest of the way open, sighing. “Please, both of you, no shouting in the house. We… had a minor issue with finding a T-shirt, is all. Grillby is changing in my bathroom, he’ll be down in a moment.”

Just then, Papyrus spotted Sans, eyesockets widening. “OH MY GOD! Sans, you actually have style for once!”

“Heh, thanks, I guess…” Sans felt nervous, for some reason. What if Grillby thought he looked dumb? What if Grillby got really uncomfortable with this idea? What if he got mad? Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to force him to-

The door to Toriel’s room opened again, a warm light filling the hall. If Sans could have blushed, he would have.

Sans’s shorts were wide enough around the waist to fit Grillby, although they didn’t quite go down to his knees. The old white shirt Toriel had found him was a bit more form-fitting than the ones Sans usually wore, clinging near his waist and the center of his chest. Amusingly, Sans’s slippers were a bit too big on the fire monster, if the way he had to shuffle in them to get them to stay on was any indication. What got Sans, though, was the jacket.

Sans’s hoodie fit Grillby perfectly. 

Grillby had shot Papyrus a questioning look when he was handed Sans’s jacket, still unsure about the whole thing. “Will this even fit me?” he asked skeptically. “I’m quite a bit taller than Sans.”

“Well, it’s very big on Sans,” Toriel pointed out. “Just try it on. I’m sure we can go find a cheap blue hoodie in the morning to complete the look if that doesn’t fit.”

Papyrus nodded. “Or if it smells too much like ketchup for you to bear!”

The bartender still wasn’t sure, but it couldn’t hurt to just try it on, right? Blushing a bit under the attention the other two were giving him, he shrugged on the blue jacket. Papyrus was right, it did smell a little like ketchup. But…

As the weight of the fabric settled around his shoulders, something in Grillby relaxed. The fabric that lined the inside of Sans’s jacket was surprisingly soft, and the sleeves were just long enough that if Grillby wanted to, he could pull them over his hands. The fire monster’s face grew hotter, a bright blush spreading across his cheeks. He was wearing Sans’s clothes. He was wearing Sans’s jacket. He wrapped his arms around himself without thinking, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, he found that Toriel and Papyrus were both staring at him. He shifted a bit, fiddling with the hoodie strings. “...wh-what? Is something wrong?”

After a long moment, Toriel smiled, raising a hand to her mouth in an attempt to hold back laughter. Papyrus tilted his head, entirely bemused. “Grillby, why did you turn blue? Is it that overwhelming? I told Sans he needed to wash that old thing more often!”

Toriel lost her composure, laughing softly. “That’s not what it means when a fire monster turns blue, Papyrus.”

“W-wait, I’m what-?!” Grillby ran back into Toriel’s bathroom. Sure enough, the blush on his cheeks had turned a vibrant blue, along with some of the flames that made up his hair. “Oh. Oh no.”

“‘Oh no’ what?! I don’t understand! Ms. Toriel, why are you laughing?!” Papyrus frowned, unhappy at being left out of the loop. 

Toriel was all too happy to clarify. “Fire monsters blush differently than other monsters. The flames that make up their faces change temperature depending on the emotion. When they’re embarrassed, they may turn red. When flustered, a brighter orange. The most dazzling display, though, is when a fire monster is-”

“You can’t tell Sans!” Grillby suddenly cried out, nearly shouting it. He went back into the bedroom, willing himself to calm down. “Fuck, I can’t let him see me like this…!”

Toriel decided to let the language slide, focusing on calming Grillby down. “It’s alright,” she said soothingly, “We won’t tell him. You should tell him yourself.”

Grillby shook his head. “No, no no no no no. Sans can’t know about this. It’s entirely inappropriate, and it would ruin everything we already have-”

Toriel held up a hand to stop him. She tilted her head a bit, concerned. “Now why would it be inappropriate? You’re adults. If you both consent to a relationship, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” Grillby groaned. “It’s- I’m a fire elemental and he’s a skeleton. We’re not going to be compatible.”

Toriel frowned at that. “Now that’s an outdated mindset and you know it,” she huffed. “You like him, don’t you? I’m sure even if he didn’t like you that way, you could still be friends after telling him.”

“Like him in what way?!?!” The Great Papyrus interrupted, starting to get irritated that the author seemed to keep forgetting he was there.

Toriel looked at Papyrus, then sighed, smiling a bit as she looked back at Grillby. Grillby groaned again, hanging his head in defeat. “Fire monsters turn blue,” he mumbled, “When they’re in love.”

Papyrus took a moment to process that. Grillby was in love… he’d turned blue when he put Sans’s jacket on… Oh! The pieces clicked in his skull. “HOLY FU-”

“LANGUAGE!”

Grillby took a deep breath as he walked down the stairs, trying to stay calm and, more importantly, stay cold. Sans would probably say I just need to ‘chill out’. Or be ‘cool’, Grillby thought to himself, his awkward smile becoming a bit more genuine in amusement. He stepped into the living room, holding his arms out in a sort of ‘Ta-da!’ motion. Frisk started clapping while Alphys took pictures, both of them far more excited about the outfit change than they should have been.

“Well if it isn’t the ‘hottest’ new fashion trend, Grillby casual.”

Sans caught Grillby’s attention, the fire monster turning to look at him. “Ha, funny, Sans,” is what he said on the outside. On the inside, he was screaming. Stay chill stay chill stay chill stay chill god damn it now that terrible joke is stuck in my head holy shit just stay chill! 

“Y-you look nice,” Grillby managed to stammer out. “I never thought I’d see you wear a tie that wasn’t printed on the shirt.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sans replied with a wink. “So I guess it’s decided then? We’re going as each other for Halloween?”

Grillby nodded, barely trusting himself to speak. “I suppose so…”

Frisk jumped up on the couch. “WHICH MEANS YOU HAVE TO GO TRICK OR TREATING WITH US!!”

The next several minutes were filled with Toriel lecturing Frisk about jumping on furniture and yelling in the house.

The next day, the whole group met at Grillby’s to get ready, taking advantage of the fact that the restaurant had a total of four bathroom stalls. Grillby volunteered to put his costume on last, soul thrumming with anxiety. He was sure that the evening was going to be the hardest evening of his life (oh, the things he put himself through for Frisk’s sake).

Grillby was far from unaware of his feelings for Sans. He’d had a bit of a crush for a long time, and in the time since they’d been released from the Underground, that affection had only grown. There was just something about the skeleton that made him want to sit and talk with him forever. It would never work out, though. Relationships were complicated, and Grillby didn’t want to mess up what he already had. If he made a move and it didn’t work out, it would be hard to go back to just being friends. Needless to say, Sans’s new ability to turn Grillby’s flames blue without even being in the room was a huge problem.

“Hey fire dude, your turn!” Undyne pulled Grillby from his thoughts, thrusting the bartender’s costume into his arms. “Hurry up and get changed! It’s almost time to get going!”

Grillby nodded, a bit overwhelmed all of a sudden. “R-right. I’ll be back in a moment.”

He took his time getting dressed, carefully monitoring his temperature. For the most part, he was fine. He could forget that he was dressed as his favorite skeleton, even be amused by it. There was no problem at all… until he got to the jacket.

Slipping on Sans’s hoodie, Grillby felt his temperature immediately rise. He was never cold, but he could still appreciate that the jacket was comfortably warm. Between the smell and the weight, if he closed his eyes he could almost imagine Sans had his arms around him. 

Oh god, there was no way he was going to make it through this night.

Cautiously stepping out of the bathroom stall, Grillby looked in the mirror and confirmed what he already suspected. That bright blue tint had returned to his face. He took a deep breath, willing it away, but some of the flames that formed his hair and cheeks wouldn’t cool off. The traitorous streaks of heat flickered and Grillby felt like he was being mocked. 

The door to the bathroom suddenly opened and Grillby panicked, pulling up the hood of the and ducking his head to hide his face. Glancing to the side, he wanted to scream. Of course, it was Sans.

Sans looked worried, dress shoes clicking on the tile floor as he walked over. “You okay, Grillbz? You’ve been in here for a while. I was starting to get worried.”

“I-i’m fine,” Grillby stammered, turning to look at the wall, the counter, anywhere but at Sans. “I’m just nervous. It’s the first time I’ve participated in something like this.”

Sans chuckled, a gentle sound that soothed some of Grillby’s nerves. “C’mon, you can’t mess up Halloween. Just ‘chill’ out and enjoy yourself.”

Sans was right. There wasn’t any reason to be this worked up. So long as he focused on the festivities, Grillby didn’t run any risk of being flustered again. “Alright. I’ll be out in a moment.” He straightened up, looking in the mirror again and sighing in relief. For now, the blush was gone.

Later that evening, the Halloween festivities were in full swing. Monster and human children alike were wandering up and down the streets with their parents, laughing and playing as their buckets and bags slowly filled with sweets. Frisk insisted on dragging as many people as they could up to each door with them, insisting that, “Larger groups of people get more candy!” 

Of course, being a pretty big group of monsters, they couldn’t all fit on a doorstep at once. Instead, they all took turns. Two people would go with Frisk at a time, and the rest of them would just wave from the street.

Sans put his hands in his pockets as he watched Grillby and Asgore walk Frisk to the door of the next house, chuckling a bit as the former king stopped to admire the flowerbeds. His gaze drifted to Grillby. He’d been worried that the bartender would feel a little out of place, but he seemed to be enjoying himself, holding Frisk’s hand as the child cheered, “Trick or treat!”

The couple at the door stopped to ask about their costumes like any other house, putting a few pieces of candy in Frisk’s bag. Sans couldn’t hear what was said, but when Grillby explained his costume, whatever the couple said made him laugh. Sans smiled to himself, fond. 

Undyne elbowed Sans, arching an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you’re staring again.”

Sans rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Yeah, well, he’s being really cute. Besides, anyone could appreciate a guy that hot.”

Undyne groaned. “Okay, but being serious, why don’t you just talk to him already? The guy obviously has a thing for you. Nobody would let you rack up a tab like yours if they didn’t want to cook for you all the time.”

“I know,” Sans admitted, “But he can be kinda shy. I don’t wanna scare him off by making the first move.”

She just rolled her eyes. “If he’s shy, he’s never gonna confess to you. Just go for it, man!”

Sans looked back at Grillby. In the time they’d been talking, the fire monster had picked Frisk up and put them on his shoulders, smiling as Frisk declared which house they should go to next. He was so good with the kid. He let Frisk hang out at the bar after school all the time, and he’d even helped them with their homework once or twice. The bartender was one of the sweetest guys Sans had ever met. How could the skeleton not like him? And Sans had to admit, he was getting a little impatient. “You know what? Fine,” he said, looking back at Undyne. “I’m gonna tell him.”

Undyne looked genuinely surprised. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“Tonight?”

“Right now.”

“Oh my god.” Undyne whipped out her phone, pulling up her camera. “Fucking finally. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. Alphys! Alphys, it’s finally happening, come help me film this!”

Sans laughed, pulling his hands out of his pockets to fidget with his suspenders. “Thanks for the enthusiasm, but this is something I kinda want to do alone? Grillby’s a private guy. You’ll make him nervous.”

Undyne groaned. “Fine, but you better tell me how it goes!”

Sans gave her a thumbs-up. “Sure thing, captain.”

“I mean it!” she emphasized, jabbing a finger at his chest. “I want every detail.”

Sans chuckled. “I’ll make sure to ‘burn’ the moment in my memory. Now get out of here, they’re coming back.”

Grillby and Asgore rejoined the group, Grillby handing Frisk off to Toriel. “I believe it’s your turn, You Majesty.”

Toriel smiled a bit. “Now what have I told you about that? It’s just Toriel now.” She turned to the others. “Sans? Would you like to come as well?”

“I’ll c-come!” Alphys quickly interjected. “We sh-should all go! Except Sans and Grillby! G-Grillby just went, and, u-um… Sans, well…”

“I’m too lazy to go all the way up to the door,” Sans finished for her. “I’ll hang back here with Grillby. You all go on ahead.”

Toriel tilted her head, trying to figure out what Sans was planning before understanding hit her. She smiled a bit and nodded. “Alright, you two. Don’t fall too far behind.”

“This won’t take very long,” Sans assured her, waving them off. Frisk lead the way, and pretty soon it was just Sans and Grillby, walking side by side in the cool autumn evening.

Grillby adjusted his glasses, glancing curiously at Sans. “...alright. What is this all about? I can tell you’re plotting something.”

Sans chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve always been able to read me pretty well.” And somehow the bartender was still totally oblivious. “I just wanted to talk with you for a minute. Just you and me.” He stopped walking, looking Grillby up and down. “...y’know, you don’t look half bad in my jacket.”

Oh god. The fear of blushing and tipping Sans off returned at full force, Grillby swallowing hard. “Th-thank you? Um, I think you look nice, too. Dressed up, I mean.”

“Eh, you pull it off better.” Sans shrugged. “You know, you’ve been kinda quiet this evening. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Grillby answered too quickly. He’d honestly been avoiding talking to Sans too much. Sans was far too good at flustering him and making him laugh. “Why do you ask?”

Sans huffed, fond as he tilted his head. “Well, I’ve been thinking. Hanging out with everybody is great and all, but I’d kinda like to spend more time with just you, y’know?” He rubbed the back of his neck, a little nervous. He didn’t want to make Grillby uncomfortable by being too direct, but he couldn’t be too subtle. Otherwise, it would go over the fire monster’s head. He took a deep breath and braced himself. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go get breakfast or something sometime?”

Grillby nearly choked. What was Sans trying to say? Surely he wasn’t asking what Grillby wanted him to thought he might be asking. He felt his temperature rise without his permission and reflectively pulled up the hood of the jacket, covering his face with his sleeves. If anything, remembering that he was hiding in Sans’s jacket just made it worse. He tried to say something, but to his dismay, all he could get out was a flustered squeak.

That was about the reaction Sans was expecting. “Grillby? You okay?” Sans asked gently. He stepped closer, trying to move into the bartender’s field of vision.

“F-f-fine…!” Grillby managed. He was dead. He was going to die. This was a disaster.

“Heh, sure,” Sans mumbled, giving him a small smile. “Alright, if you’re gonna be shy about it, let’s try this a different way.” The skeleton reached up and gently took Grillby’s hands in his own, pulling them away. Grillby’s face was burning with beautiful shades of red, orange, and blue, all mixing together. Sans chuckled a bit, putting his hands on the bartender’s shoulders and making him lean over. “Come here, you dork.” He stood up on his toes, pulling the fire monster’s hood down as he did.

The light show when Sans kissed him was spectacular.

Papyrus, who had been watching the whole time, jumped out of the bushes. “OH MY GOD, SANS!” He was shortly followed by Undyne, Alphys, and Frisk, who were all rewatching the scene from Frisk’s phone.

“That was s-so cute!” Alphys gushed. “You’re so adorable t-together! I think it’s my new OTP.”

Grillby groaned, covering his face with one hand as Sans laughed. “I hate all of you.” He stopped as a hand slipped into his own, looking down at Sans.

Sans smiled up at him, still chuckling a bit. His gaze softened a bit as he ran his thumb over Grillby’s knuckles. “So,” he said quietly, “What do you say, firefly? Coffee this Saturday.”

Grillby smiled, finally letting himself blush without panicking. He laced their fingers together and gave the skeleton a gentle nod. “That sounds lovely.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it! If you did, consider leaving me a comment to tell me your favorite part. If you want to send me a prompt, my asks are open!

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

A Warm Feeling, Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Worry and Normalcy

Chapter One | Chapter Four | Chapter Six

Word count: 3586

Warnings for this chapter: Nightmares, Frisk is a jerk

Read this on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad!

Grillby didn’t ask what triggered Sans’s panic attack, and the skeleton was grateful. How was he supposed to explain that he was afraid of a human child with the ability to manipulate time itself? The bartender would think he was crazy.

Sans settled further into Grillby’s arms, sighing. The bag of food Grillby had brought was discarded next to them, long-emptied by the two of them as they ate and talked together. At some point, they’d lapsed into a comfortable silence. It had been some time, but Grillby didn’t show any indication of moving, and Sans wasn’t about to make him. The panic attack had been draining, and he was worried that his anxiety would come for him with a vengeance the moment he was alone again.

Grillby was leaning back against the sentry station, head resting on the wood and eyes closed. He looked moments from falling asleep, and Sans was tempted to let him. Sure, Grillby had been steadily recovering, but the walk to Sans’s post was a lot even for a healthy monster. The bartender had probably overdone it a little bit. Being made of fire, he didn’t get cold, but even so, Grillby’s back would probably hurt if he fell asleep sitting on the ground. Sans tapped his arm gently, mumbling, “Hey Grillbz, you still with me?”

“Hm? Yes, I’m awake. I’m alright.” Grillby opened his eyes, looking down at Sans and giving him a tired smile. Yep, definitely overdid it.

Sans smiled back a bit. “We should get you home,” he said fondly. “You look like you could use some rest. Come on, let’s take a shortcut.”

The two stood up, Sans holding Grillby’s hand as they started walking. One moment, they were in Snowdin forest. The next, they were-

The world stuttered.

Grillby was leaning back against the sentry station, head resting on the wood and eyes closed. Sans jerked in his arms, inhaling sharply as his pupils vanished. Frisk just loaded a save file. That usually meant they died in a fight. What happened? Were they fighting Toriel? Something else? Did this mean they were close to leaving the Ruins? No, no, he couldn’t let himself get worked up. He started shaking even as he tried to calm himself back down, burying his face in Grillby’s chest and curling up a bit more.

Grillby felt the motion and opened his eyes, looking down at Sans with a tired, concerned expression. “Sans? Breathe, I’ve got you.” He rubbed the skeleton’s back gently, mumbling soft reassurances until Sans stopped shaking. “Talk to me,” he mumbled. “What’s wrong? Have you been having trouble sleeping again? Maybe you should come home with me.”

Sans took deep breaths, wiping at his eye sockets to keep any tears from falling. “No, no, I want to stay out here. I’ll take you home. You’re exhausted.”

"You could stay home, too," Grillby said softly. "Please, for me? I'm worried about you. Your anxiety has been severe lately, and I'm scared you'll…" He trailed off, looking away for a moment. When he looked back, he took Sans's hand and intertwined their fingers. "Let me take care of you, Sans. For my sake."

Sans looked up at him, then sighed and squeezed Grillby's hand gently, giving in. "Alright, just this once. For the record, the only reason you can drag me away is because you're still kinda sick and you aren't going to rest if I don't."

Grillby chuckled. "Aww, you care about me."

You have no idea. Sans rolled his eyes and untangled himself from Grillby, standing and offering the bartender his hand. "Come on, you dork. Let's get home and take a nap."

Grillby took Sans’s hand, bracing himself for the brief feeling of weightlessness that came with Sans’s shortcuts. A flash of blue light filled his vision as the ground vanished beneath his feet… and didn’t come back.

As his vision cleared, Grillby found himself suspended in a dark void, still gripping Sans’s hand tightly. For some reason, the void itself didn’t bother him. It felt peaceful. That didn’t make him any less confused. He gripped Sans’s hand a little tighter, looking to the skeleton. “Sans? Where are we?” he asked softly. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like if he spoke too loud, the peace would break and he would fall.

Sans didn’t look concerned at all, one hand holding Grillby’s and the other in his pocket. “Don’t you recognize it?”

“Recognize it?” Grillby shook his head. Surely he would remember a place like this.

“C’mon, you see it all the time!” Sans closed his eyes, chuckling. When he opened them again, his pupils had faded out, his eyes filling with the same, empty darkness that surrounded them. “Or maybe,” the skeleton said, his tone even and calm, “You just never bothered to notice.”

Something tightened around Grillby’s soul. He suddenly became aware of an overwhelming terror that Sans was going to leave him alone. The darkness seemed to constrict as he did, making it hard to breathe. “Sans,” he managed between gasps, “I don’t… I don’t understand…”

The skeleton sighed, seemingly unaffected by the strange place around him. “You don’t understand,” he mumbled. “No one understands. No one can understand.” His grip on Grillby’s hand loosened and he closed his eyes. “It’s fine. I can handle it alone.”

Grillby felt his grip weakening and frantically held on tighter. “No, Sans, don’t say that. You aren’t alone, I’m here!”

“Where is here?” Sans asked him. “What’s happening to me? Can anyone tell me?” He shook his head, then let go. As he did, some unseen force seemed to start pulling him away, the bony fingers threatening to slip from Grillby’s grasp.

The bartender held on as tightly as he could, briefly worried he was going to break Sans’s hand before pushing those thoughts away. He would rather Sans be injured than gone completely. “Don’t leave me,” he begged, “Please. Talk to me, I can help!”

Sans ignored him, looking up at something behind Grillby. He smirked, then looked back down at the fire monster. “Sorry, Grillbz. It’s dark…” He closed his eyes again. “Getting darker… yet d a r k e r…”

Grillby felt a presence behind him. Before he could react, a hand reached over his shoulder and grabbed his wrist. It looked like the hand of a skeleton, but there was a wide, gaping hole in the middle. It made Grillby’s head hurt. Whatever force threatened to pull Sans away from him suddenly pulled harder, the hand around his wrist pulling back at the same time.

The quiet was peaceful. The quiet was fragile. One loud sound could break it, but when Grillby felt Sans’s hand leave his? He screamed.

The sound of rushing wind filled Grillby’s mind as he plummeted, reaching up towards the fading figure of his best friend. The darkness consumed him, threatening to tear him apart as it wrapped around his body, his mind, his soul. He felt dizzy, closing his eyes as for the first time in his life, he truly felt cold.

🕈︎☟︎✌︎❄︎🕯︎💧︎ ❄︎☟︎✋︎💧︎📬︎📬︎📬︎✍︎

✌︎☟︎📬︎ ✋︎ 💧︎☜︎☜︎📬︎

✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ 💣︎🕆︎💧︎❄︎ 👌︎☜︎ ❄︎☟︎☜︎ ⚐︎☠︎☜︎ 💣︎✡︎ 💧︎⚐︎☠︎ ✋︎💧︎ ✌︎☹︎🕈︎✌︎✡︎💧︎ 💧︎🏱︎☜︎✌︎😐︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ ⚐︎☞︎📬︎

👌︎☜︎ 😐︎✋︎☠︎👎︎ ❄︎⚐︎ ☟︎✋︎💣︎📪︎ 🕈︎⚐︎☠︎🕯︎❄︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎✍︎

✋︎❄︎🕯︎💧︎ ❄︎✋︎💣︎☜︎ ❄︎⚐︎ 🕈︎✌︎😐︎☜︎ 🕆︎🏱︎📬︎

Grillby gasped and sat upright. He was shaking and his vision was blurry and clouded by steam as tears evaporated from his eyes.

“Whoa-!” Sans held up his hands and leaned back where he was kneeling on the floor, eye sockets wide. “Hey, t-take it easy. It’s just me. It’s just me, you’re safe.”

Sans hadn’t been able to sleep after settling down in his room, resigned to just laying down and scrolling on his phone. He’d gotten through several pages of a recent article on paperclip bias when he heard a loud thud. He ran to the living room and found Grillby on the floor, trembling and muttering in his sleep. It didn’t take a genius to tell that he was having a nightmare and had fallen off the couch. The skeleton tried to wake Grillby up, but when he’d touched Grillby’s arm, the monster had screamed and fought against him. The only option left was to wait and try to talk to him. Sans made a mental note to thank whatever higher power was out there that the bartender had woken up on his own. “Deep breaths, Grillbz, come on,” he muttered gently, risking touching him again as he set a hand on the fire monster’s back. “It was just a nightmare. Just a dream, can’t hurt you.”

Grillby slowly oriented himself, taking deep breaths as he was instructed. In, and out. In, and out. The adrenaline drained from his body and he curled in on himself. He couldn’t stop shaking. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

“Sorry? The hell are you apologizing for?” Sans reached out and took Grillby’s hands. “You had a nightmare. It looked really bad, too. There’s no way you can help that.”

Grillby jerked his hands away. “That’s not what I’m talking about!” he shouted, biting back another sob. Sans was stunned into silence, pulling his hands away and dropping them into his lap. The two of them sat there for a moment, Grillby’s sobbing the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. The bartender took deep breaths, taking his time to collect his thoughts, and Sans let him. Whatever was going on in Grillby’s head, it was something he needed to address at his own pace. When he did finally speak, his voice wavered, full of fear and regret. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice, and I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m scared, Sans. Something is eating you and I don’t know how to help. I know you don’t like to be vulnerable and I want to let you come to me in your own time, if you even ever want to tell me, but I can’t do anything for you if I don’t know what’s going on!”

Sans sighed. “Grillby-”

“No, I’m not done,” Grillby interrupted. “Whatever triggered this relapse has been hard on you. You’ve been struggling to sleep, having panic attacks, and don’t think I haven’t noticed how nervous you get the moment Papyrus leaves your sight. You’ve mentioned before that you get separation anxiety when you’re apart for long periods of time but this is different. You’re always tired, you never eat if you aren’t told to, and half the time you can’t even will yourself out of bed unless your brother physically drags you out of your room! This is serious and I won’t- I can’t- I…” He looked away again, burying his face in his hands as he trailed off.

Sans didn’t know how to respond for a moment. He knew that Grillby worried about him sometimes, but he didn’t realize just how much he noticed. He moved closer and put a hand on Grillby’s knee. “You can’t what, Grillbz?” he asked softly.

Grillby lowered his hands, sniffling as he stared down at his lap. “I can’t… I can’t lose you, Sans. You matter to me more than you realize. I don’t know what I would do if… i-if you… if something happened to you. I can’t lose you, I-i can’t!”

The skeleton immediately wrapped Grillby in his arms, rubbing his back to calm him before the fire monster could get himself worked up again. “You’re not gonna lose me,” Sans mumbled, “It’s okay. I’m sorry I scared you. I promise I’m gonna be okay. You already do so much just by being my friend, Grillbz, you don’t need to do anything else.”

“Please, Sans, just… you have to talk to someone. If you can’t talk to me, that’s fine, but you have to talk to someone,” Grillby insisted. “You have people that love you, and we worry about y-”

The world stuttered.

Grillby gasped and sat upright. He was shaking and his vision was blurry and clouded by steam as tears evaporated from his eyes.

“Whoa-!” Sans held up his hands and leaned back where he was kneeling on the floor, eye sockets wide. “Hey, t-take it easy. It’s just me. It’s just me, you’re safe.” Wait a second. They’d just been through this. Sans closed his eyes, damning Frisk for undoing all the progress they’d just made before forcing those feelings down, focusing on the distressed monster in front of him. “Deep breaths, Grillbz, come on,” he muttered gently, risking touching him again as he set a hand on the fire monster’s back. “It was just a nightmare. Just a dream, can’t hurt you.”

Grillby slowly oriented himself, taking deep breaths as he was instructed. In, and out. In, and out. The adrenaline drained from his body and he curled in on himself. He couldn’t stop shaking. “I’m… I’m s-”

The world stuttered.

Grillby gasped and sat upright. He was shaking and his vision was blurry and clouded by steam as tears evaporated from his eyes.

“Whoa-!” Sans held up his hands and leaned back where he was kneeling on the floor, eye sockets wide. “Whoa, hey, brea-”

The world stuttered.

Grillby gasped and sat upright.

The world stuttered.

Grillby gasped and sat upright.

The world stuttered.

Grillby choked as he jerked awake.

The world stuttered.

Grillby woke up screaming.

“GRILLBY!” Sans threw his arms around the bartender, shaken as he held the trembling monster. What the hell was that? Frisk had loaded six times in a row. What the hell could kill them that fast? Or were they just messing with something? Sans could worry about that later. For now, he needed to help a friend that he’d unintentionally terrified.

The conversation went about the same as it did the first time, and thankfully, they managed to get through it without any more resets. They ended up back on the couch, Sans laying up against the armrest with Grillby’s head on his chest, their legs tangled together as they spread out on the cushions. He played with the flames that formed Grillby’s hair, sighing. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk to you about it yet, but… you’re right. I’m gonna start looking at therapists, okay? I’m sorry I scared you.”

Grillby nodded tiredly, relieved. He wasn’t sure if Sans was going to get defensive or listen, so he was very glad it was the latter. “It’s alright,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I wasn’t sure if it was my place to say anything.”

“You can always talk to me,” Sans was quick to affirm. “You can tell me anything, and I’ll listen. You’re my best friend. If there’s anybody I trust enough to be vulnerable with, it’s you. I mean, other than Papyrus,” he amended with a small shrug.

A light blush spread over Grillby’s cheeks and he chuckled. “You’re my best friend, too. You can always come to me for help.” He sighed and wrapped his arms around Sans’s waist, settling down a bit more and looking up at him. “For now, though, you’re trapped here. We’re both exhausted and I don’t feel inclined to move just yet.”

“Really? I can’t be a great pillow. I’m too boney,” Sans said, amused. “I’m not complaining though. You’re nice and warm.”

“Then shush and let me stay like this.” Grillby closed his eyes and put his head back on Sans’s chest. Just stay with me a little longer.

Papyrus would come home from his patrol to find the two of them tangled on the couch like that, fast asleep.

(He totally took pictures.)

Grillby was cleared to go back to work at the end of the week. It felt weird, to be getting back to normal life, but he wasn’t about to complain. He was passionate about his work, and while he knew the skeleton brothers meant well, if he had to spend one more day stuck in their living room while they fretted over him he was going to lose his mind.

The first day back was very busy, many of his regulars coming earlier than usual to check in with him and ask how he was doing. It was nice. Grillby forgot, sometimes, that people considered his restaurant a big part of Snowdin’s community. There were a few people that he was surprised to see visiting him, but nothing surprised him more than when he looked up and saw a vaguely familiar lizard monster in a white lab coat. He walked over and took his notepad from his vest pocket. “Dr. Alphys,” he greeted politely, “It’s good to see you. Can I get you a drink to start?”

Alphys almost asked for water, remembered that it was dangerous for the fire monster to touch, fumbled over her words, then just gave up. “N-no thanks, I’ll just, uh, get some fries if that’s okay.”

Grillby gave her a kind smile. “One order of fries, coming right up.”

As the bartender disappeared into the kitchen, Alphys took a moment to look around herself. She’d never really seen the appeal of going out to a bar before, but Grillby’s wasn’t at all what she expected. There was no stereotypical smell of booze that she’d come to associate with the few bars she’d heard about in New Home, and the atmosphere was warm and inviting. Sentries from the Royal Guard sat at a table playing cards and customers at the bar chatted and joked amongst themselves. She wondered to herself if it was appropriate to call this place a bar. Grillby’s seemed to better fit her idea of a restaurant.

Grillby came back out with a basket of fries, drawing Alphys’s attention back to him as he set them on the bar in front of her. “Can I get anything else for you?” he asked.

“No, this- this is fine. Thank you.” Alphys gave him an awkward smile, picking at her fries while she tried to figure out what to say.

The bartender chuckled. “I should be the one thanking you. If it weren’t for your advice, I wouldn’t have been able to recover from last week’s… incident as quickly as I did.”

“O-Oh, that was no- no problem!” Alphys quickly dismissed, unable to take a compliment. “I d-d-didn’t mind at all! B-besides, any friend of Sans is- is a friend of mine, heheh…”

“Still, I appreciate it.” Grillby picked up a glass to clean out, heating a fire-resistant cloth with his magic to sterilize it. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Snowdin is a long way to come for a basket of fries.”

Alphys dropped the fry she was holding with a squeak. Good gosh, was she that obvious? She pulled herself together with a small, awkward laugh. “W-well,” she stammered, “There is a-another reason… um…” Oh, this felt so weird! Was it even her place to talk about this? Oh, she was just going to come out and say it! “I w-w-wanted to talk to you, um, about your sch-schedule? I had a-a-a few, um, suggestions?”

“Oh? By all means, go ahead,” Grillby said with a slight nod to her.

Oh, thank goodness. Alphys took a deep breath, proceeding with a bit more confidence now that she was sure Grillby wasn’t going to react badly. Well, mostly sure. Sure enough to continue, at least. “The bar is g-getting pretty, um, popular lately,” she pointed out. “I know you p-pretty much run the place by- by yourself, so, um, I was just w-worried if things stay how they are, you might, uh, g-get overwhelmed again? But I th-thought of a solution f-for that!

Grillby set the glass down and gave Alphys his full attention. “You have a point there. Well, I’m open to suggestions.”

“I-i was thinking,” she continued, “Every business has hours wh-where they’re, um, th-things are a bit slow. Right? Maybe y-you could change your hours of operation s-so you, um, don’t have the bar open those hours? And you c-can take a break?”

The bartender thought about that for a moment, adjusting his glasses. “I understand what you’re saying, and you are correct. Tuesday and Thursday evenings can be very slow, and I rarely get a customer until noon on a Sunday. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to close early on Tuesdays and Thursdays, then open late on Sundays. It would give me some time to rest on busy weeks.” He smiled a bit, nodding to himself. “Thank you, Dr. Alphys. I think it’s a great idea.”

Alphys flustered, still unable to take a compliment well. “S-s-sure thing! Glad I could- could help!”

The bell over the front door jingled, diverting Grillby’s attention. “Ah, I’m afraid I’ve been neglecting my other customers. It was good to see you, Dr. Alphys. Let me know if I can get you anything else.” With that, he left the bar to take the new customer’s order, getting back to business as usual.

Alphys smiled to herself a bit. She’d been worried that the whole conversation was going to be an awkward mess, but thankfully, the bartender had been receptive and easy to talk to. She was starting to get an idea why people liked Grillby’s bar so much. How could you dislike a place with such good service and such a kind bartender?

Well, it was also possible that the amazing fries had something to do with it. With the attention off of her, Alphys found herself eagerly digging into her food, putting just a bit of ketchup on the side. Man, that fire monster could cook.

If you liked this, consider reblogging and/or telling me what your favorite part was! If you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, as well, let me know! As always, thank you for reading!

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

If you are still taking requests, *clears throat*

Sans just wakes up with two cracks in his eyes (just like Gaster's) and he is completely blind + a bit of Sansby(because I can't help myself-)

Did someone say a n g s t? I love the idea of Grillby crying steam!

I know you said a bit of Sansby. You’re getting a lot of Sansby. As in they're married and living together.

Note: Translating the wingdings is not essential to the story! They’re mostly for dramatic effect and some vague exposition as to how/why Sans got hurt. Like, really vague. So you’re not really missing anything if you don’t translate them!

Cracks

Word count: 1296 Warnings: Sudden injury, being blinded, panic Summary: Sans suddenly loses control of his magic, permanently injuring himself. Grillby is there to assure him he isn’t alone.

✂︎💧︎✌︎☠︎💧︎📬︎📬︎📬︎ ✌︎☼︎☜︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ 💧︎🕆︎☼︎☜︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ 🕈︎✌︎☠︎❄︎ ❄︎⚐︎ 👎︎⚐︎ ❄︎☟︎✋︎💧︎✍︎✂︎

💧︎♋︎■︎⬧︎ ■︎□︎♎︎♎︎♏︎♎︎📪︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♓︎■︎♑︎ ♋︎ ♎︎♏︎♏︎◻︎ ♌︎❒︎♏︎♋︎⧫︎♒︎📬︎ ✂︎✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎🕯︎⧫︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎ ♒︎♓︎❍︎📪︎ 👎︎♓︎■︎♑︎⬧︎📬︎ ☠︎□︎⧫︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎📬���✂︎

✂︎✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ 💣︎✌︎✡︎ ☠︎⚐︎❄︎ 💧︎🕆︎☼︎✞︎✋︎✞︎☜︎📪︎✂︎ 🕈︎📬︎ 👎︎📬︎ ☝︎♋︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎□︎♓︎■︎⧫︎♏︎♎︎ □︎◆︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♓︎●︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♒︎♏︎♋︎♎︎📬︎ ✂︎✌︎☠︎👎︎ ✋︎☞︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ 👎︎⚐︎📬︎📬︎📬︎ ✋︎❄︎ 🕈︎⚐︎☠︎🕯︎❄︎ 👌︎☜︎ 🕈︎✋︎❄︎☟︎⚐︎🕆︎❄︎ 💧︎👍︎✌︎☼︎💧︎📬︎✂︎

✂︎✋︎ ⬥︎□︎■︎🕯︎⧫︎ ❒︎♏︎❍︎♏︎❍︎♌︎♏︎❒︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎ ♏︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ⬥︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎✂︎ 💧︎♋︎■︎⬧︎ ⬧︎♋︎♓︎♎︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎♒︎❒︎◆︎♑︎📬︎ ✂︎💧︎□︎📪︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♑︎□︎■︎■︎♋︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎◻︎ ❍︎♏︎ □︎❒︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎✍︎✂︎

☝︎♋︎⬧︎⧫︎♏︎❒︎ ⬧︎♓︎♑︎♒︎♏︎♎︎📬︎ ✂︎✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ ✌︎☹︎☼︎☜︎✌︎👎︎✡︎ 😐︎☠︎⚐︎🕈︎ 💣︎✡︎ ✌︎☠︎💧︎🕈︎☜︎☼︎📬︎✂︎

🕈︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📪︎ ♒︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎●︎♎︎ □︎◆︎⧫︎ ♒︎♓︎⬧︎ ♒︎♋︎■︎♎︎📬︎ 💧︎♋︎■︎⬧︎ ⧫︎□︎□︎🙵 ♓︎⧫︎📬︎

Sans woke up to searing pain in his soul, screaming as his magic released itself uncontrollably. The bright blue light enveloped Sans’s body, the burning sensation searing every bone before the sensation suddenly concentrated in his skull. The magic coiled tighter, burned brighter, until…

Both of Sans’s eyes flared brightly. The coil snapped, the burst of energy vibrating in his skull. He heard bone shattering and screamed again, hands coming up to his head as blood started to seep from the cracks. The last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was the bedroom door slamming open and Grillby’s panicked voice begging him to stay awake.

0.00001 HP. Sans had survived with 0.00001 HP left. Grillby had never seen a more terrifying number in his life, pulling his husband into his lap as gently as possible. The fire monster nearly gagged as he did. There was blood everywhere, and Sans was covered in burns from where his magic had overwhelmed his body. The worst part was the cracks. There were two long, vertical cracks in Sans’s skull, one for each eye. This was far beyond Grillby’s healing abilities. His hands shook as he pulled out his phone, dialing the number for Dr. Alphys. “Pick up, pick up damnit! Oh my god… Oh my god, Sans…!”

The line connected. “Dr. A-alphys speaking. What can I-”

“H-help,” Grillby stammered out, nearly sobbing in desperation. “Sans, he- we need help- I can’t- he’s dying, I need help!”

“Hey, whoa, slow down! Sans is- is hurt? Okay. I’m- I can come to help, just breathe and tell me where you are.” Dr. Alphys put Sans and Grillby’s address into the GPS on her phone as Grillby rattled it off, nodding. “I’ll be there in ten minutes, tops. J-just hang on!”

It was the longest ten minutes of Grillby’s life.

✂︎💧︎✌︎☠︎💧︎📬︎📬︎📬︎ ☼︎☜︎💣︎☜︎💣︎👌︎☜︎☼︎ 🕈︎☟︎⚐︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎🕯︎☼︎☜︎ 👎︎⚐︎✋︎☠︎☝︎ ❄︎☟︎✋︎💧︎ ☞︎⚐︎☼︎📬︎ ✡︎⚐︎🕆︎ ☟︎✌︎✞︎☜︎ ❄︎⚐︎ 🕈︎✌︎😐︎☜︎ 🕆︎🏱︎📬︎✂︎

A soft beeping caused Sans to stir, groaning softly. “Grillbz, your alarm…” Huh, that was funny. Did Grillby change his alarm sound? Because it certainly sounded a little off. The blankets felt weird too… and his head…

Sans lifted a hand to his skull, fingers coming in contact with several thick bandages. Vague memories of the morning came together and it clicked. He was in the hospital. His magic had suddenly gone rogue and almost killed him. Why? Sans felt like there was a reason, but he couldn’t remember. The headache he had and the painkillers that were trying to get rid of it certainly weren’t helping.

A door opened somewhere to his right, a few footsteps drawing near before something- a plastic coffee cup, maybe?- hit the floor.

“Sans!” Grillby gasped, fighting back tears of relief as he approached the bed. “You’re awake! I thought I was going to… you wouldn’t… I almost…” He lost the battle against his tears, taking Sans’s hand and sitting on the bed while he cried.

Sans reached out towards him, managing to guess where Grillby’s shoulder was before pulling him down into a hug. He rubbed the Grillby’s back as he let him sob, shushing him gently. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m alright. You didn’t lose me.” He sighed, touching the bandages again. He felt around the edges of them, tracing them up towards the top of his skull, then down to…

The skeleton froze. “G-Grillby…?”

Grillby sat up, immediately concerned. “What? What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

Sans took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He already knew the answer to his question, but he still had to ask. He had to hear it from someone else. His voice was shaking when he spoke. “Are… are there any bandages… over my eyes?”

“No?” Grillby tilted his head. “By the time we got you to the lab, the cracks closest to your eyes had already started to heal. Do they hurt?” He noted for the first time that the lights that made up Sans’s pupils were still gone. Oh. Oh no. “Sans, you have your eyes open.”

Sans couldn’t breathe. He was starting to feel faint. He was going to be sick. “Heh, that’s funny,” he managed…

“Because I can’t see you.”

Alphys did everything she could, but nothing worked. No amount of medicine or healing magic could bring Sans’s vision back. While other cracks in Sans’s skull healed, the ones crossing over his eye sockets were permanent scars, keeping the magic in Sans’s soul from fully restoring his body.

“I-i don’t know what- what happened,” Alphys stammered as she flipped through Sans’s charts. Sans was still in the hospital bed, Grillby sitting by his side and holding his hand as he listened to the doctor speak. “Permanent fractures like that can only be caused by an immense amount of magic,” she continued, “B-but your soul is- it’s stabilized all on its own!” She sighed and lowered her clipboard, wiping at her eyes as she forced herself to deliver the news that Sans and Grillby already knew was coming. “I’m sorry Sans. Th-there’s nothing more I- I can do. You’re… you’re blind.”

Grillby felt Sans’s grip on his hand tighten. He gently squeezed back, watching his husband with immense concern. “...darling? Are you going to be okay?”

Sans didn’t respond for a long moment, just letting the news sink in. He was blind. He would never see another sunrise. He would never see a rainbow. He would never see Grillby smile again. “I-” Sans tried to respond, but his voice cracked and his words turned into a sob, the skeleton beginning to tremble. “No,” he gasped through his tears. “Fuck, no.”

Grillby didn’t need to hear anything else. He got up and sat on the side of the bed again. “I’m going to put my arms around you now, alright?” he asked softly. When he got a nod, he gently pulled Sans into his embrace, telegraphing his movements as he pulled him close. “Sans, just breathe. It’s going to be alright.”

“Alright?!” Sans gripped Grillby’s jacket, his entire body shaking as he sobbed. “How the fuck is it going to be alright?! I’ve lost my vision, Grillby! I can’t read, I can’t get around on my own- I’m a sentry, for fuck’s sake! My entire job relies on me being able to see!” Tears dripped into the crack beneath Sans’s left eye and he cringed. “You can’t spend all day taking care of me and still take care of the bar. I can’t help make dinner or run errands or even wash my own damn clothes anymore. What am I supposed to do? What are we going to do?”

“Listen to me,” Grillby said softly, wiping Sans’s tears away in small puffs of steam. “I don’t know what we’re going to do yet, but we’ll figure it out. No matter what happens, we’re going to make this work, and we’ll manage it together. You’re not alone, Sans. You’re going to get through this.” He gently kissed the top of Sans’s skull. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Sans nodded, sniffling. “Hey, Grillby? I love you.”

Grillby held him closer, trails of steam coming off the corners of his eyes as he cried with him. “I love you too, Sans. I’ll take care of you.”

“I promise.”

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! If you did, consider reblogging/leaving a comment for me! If you have your own prompt idea or if you just want to ask me something, my asks are open!

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

A Warm Feeling

Chapter One: Let Me Walk You Home

Summary: Here's the start to a Sans x Grillby fic you didn't know you needed.

Warnings so far: Nightmares

Chapter Two

Read this on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad!

Sans was… anxious. It had been three days since the last complete reset, and the kid still hadn’t left the Ruins. This happened sometimes, of course. Sometimes Frisk liked to take their time. They liked to spend a few days relaxing and living with Toriel before rushing out into the cold sometimes. Those runs were usually Pacifist runs, and they were good ones. Frisk would hang out in Snowdin for awhile, visit Undyne more than once, and watch anime with Alphys before finally moving on to face Asgore. Once Frisk even stayed around in Hotland long enough for Mettaton to be repaired and recharged, wanting to do another (less deadly) game show with him. Yeah, those were the runs Sans preferred over all.

However, the last run… hadn’t been like that.

On Frisk’s last run, they came out of the Ruins shuffling along, covered in dust. Sans was surprised for the first time in a long time. They’d spent a whole week in the Ruins, and that usually meant that they wanted to do a Pacifist run and spend time with everyone. Surely Frisk didn’t think they could get away with spending time with the others and still pick Genocide? Frisk laughed at the whoopie cushion, but… it didn’t feel right.

Frisk played along in Snowdin. They didn’t kill anyone, did all of Papyrus’s puzzles, and took their time in town. Still, Sans couldn’t let his guard down. Just when he thought that maybe this was another messed-up neutral run… Frisk fought Papyrus. Papyrus died… and so many others did as well.

Frisk took their time, playing with them, luring them into a false sense of security before striking. There was no time to try to evacuate everyone. Sans was lucky he’d gone to watch the fight, because he managed to get ahead of Frisk and stop by all the local hot spots, screaming at everyone to get out. People left everything, rushing to get to sneak out behind Frisk and start evacuating towards Waterfall. Of course, Sans knew it was pointless.

Frisk came to Grillby’s first, blocking the exit. Even fighting multiple people at a time, they showed no mercy, and the room began to fill with dust. Sans watched, feeling helpless as Frisk advanced towards the bar, smiling as they locked eyes with Grillby. Sans could have sworn the kid mumbled, “I’ve always wanted the chance to fight you.”

Sans couldn’t move. He screamed at Grillby to run, but the bartender didn’t acknowledge him, preparing his magic. Frisk dodged the fire easily, and Sans watched as they raised their stupid toy knife and--

“SANS.”

Sans woke up with a gasp, tears streaming down his face. He had to look around and orient himself for a moment. He was at Grillby’s, sitting at the bar. There was no dust, and most of the lights were off, casting the room in a dim, comfortable glow. The brightest source of light in the room was the fiery bartender in front of him, completely unharmed and wearing a look of heavy concern. Grillby had his hands on Sans’s shoulders, the comforting warmth seeping through the skeleton’s hoodie. He sighed in relief when Sans finally focused on him, tilting his head. “Just breathe, Sans. Are you alright? That was… quite a nightmare.”

Sans wiped at his tears, huffing out a hollow chuckle. “Yeah, I’m alright. Nightmares happen, you know?”

Grillby let go of Sans, and Sans immediately missed the warmth. The bartender adjusted his glasses and fixed Sans with a look that seemed to pierce right through the skeleton’s facade. “You woke up screaming, Sans,” Grillby pointed out, firm but not unkind. “It’s alright if you don’t want to talk about it, but don’t try to tell me that was just an ordinary nightmare.”

“Alright,” the skeleton conceded, “You got me. It was… a little intense, but I don’t really feel like talking about it. I already barely remember it anyway.” He woke up screaming more often than not these days, especially since Frisk had started to try new things again. Even the little comfort Sans could take in Frisk taking their time in the Ruins was now stripped away. Although, come to think of it, this had been the first time he’d woken up screaming at Grillby’s before. Taking another look around, he finally realized that he and Grillby were completely alone. Was the bar closed?

Catching Grillby’s expression, the bartender answered Sans’s silent question. “Yes, I’m closed for the evening. You’ve just been… well, more exhausted than usual. Your brother hadn’t come barging in looking for you yet, so I decided to just let you rest for a little while.”

Sans rubbed the back of his neck. Had he really been that obvious lately? “Thanks for that, Grillbz. I’ll go ahead and get out of your hair so you don’t have to burn the midnight oil for too long.”

Grillby rolled his eyes at the skeleton. “Let’s see,” he mused, “I think that’s twenty-eight now? No, twenty-nine.”

Sans laughed at that. “Lemme guess, keeping count of how many times I’ve made that joke? If I get to a hundred, do I win a prize?” His smile became a bit more genuine at Grillby’s eye-roll. “Come on, you know you love me.”

“And it’s infuriating,” Grillby responded. “And… it’s also exactly the reason I’m walking you home tonight.”

“Huh?” Sans sat up a bit straighter. “Grillbz, you don’t have to do that… It’s late, and my house is like, just down the road.”

“So it’s no trouble to walk a little ways and make sure you get home safely.” Grillby grabbed his coat from under the bar, shrugging it on. “I’m not taking no for an answer,” he continued. His tone softened as he looked at Sans again. “You look… well, for as long as you slept today, you still look so tired. If you won’t let me walk you home for your sake, do it for mine. You’ve trailed off in the middle of eating sometimes. I would feel horrible if I came to open up tomorrow morning and found you asleep out in the snow.”

Well, there wasn’t really any arguing with that. “Alright,” Sans conceded, “You win, but just so you know, if Paps gets on to me about making you stay late, I’m holding you accountable.”

“I’ll take it off your tab,” the bartender joked. He came around the bar and pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and holding it open for Sans. He turned off the last of the lights, locked up, and then started walking in the direction of Sans’s house.

The silence was… comfortable, as the two walked side-by-side. Sans had to admit, it was nice to have Grillby’s light illuminating the snow, compared to stumbling through it in the dark. He glanced up at the bartender again, thinking.

Grillby caught him staring and smiled a bit. “What is it? Is there something on my glasses?”

Sans blushed and looked away, chuckling. “No, sorry. I was just… thinking. You’re too kind to me, you know that? I guess I could say that you’ve got a warm personality.”

Grillby rolled his eyes. “You know that isn’t always true. You should see me when I get… ‘fired’ up.”

Sans tried and failed to choke back a laugh. “Oh my god, did you just make a fire pun? You didn’t. I’m still asleep.”

“I take it back. I should have let you pass out in the snow,” Grillby grumbled. Even as he fussed, however, there was amusement hiding in his voice. “Anyway… You’re welcome, I suppose. That’s just what friends do.”

“...yeah,” Sans mumbled, caught a little off guard. “Still, thanks.” He considered Grillby a friend, for sure, but it had always been sort of an unspoken thing. To hear Grillby admit, out loud, that they were more than just friendly acquaintances felt like stepping over some kind of line, but… in a good way. Like they pushed past some kind of barrier. Yeah, they were friends. Good friends, even.

When they arrived at Sans’s house, sure enough, Papyrus swung open the door. “SANS!” he cried, “I was about to come out and look for you myself! Of course, the one evening I come home late from training, and you aren’t even home! And look, you made Grillby stay up with you!”

Sans chuckled and looked up at Grillby. “Again- this lecture’s on you.”

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Chapter Two is out now!

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

A Warm Feeling, Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Mutual Care

Part One | Part Three | Part Five Word count: 4268 Warnings for this chapter: Illness, panic attacks

Read this on Archive of Our Own and Wattpad!

“Yeah, I got him to eat a little bit when I brought him home. He just looks so… I dunno, dim? His temperature is only 317… Yeah, Al, I know that’s low, that’s why I called!”

Sans paced nervously as he glanced at the living room couch, talking to Alphys over the phone. Once again, he found Grillby laying there, but this time was much less endearing. The flames that formed his body didn’t seem to burn as brightly as usual, and he looked downright sickly. This wasn’t something that had come on suddenly, either. Sans felt like an idiot. Thinking back to the past few days, he should have noticed that Grillby was moving slower. The bartender had been having trouble keeping up with orders lately, and there were moments where he’d even spilled drinks because his hands were shaking. Sans chalked it all up to him being busier than usual, but he should have known better. The last thing Grillby needed- no the last thing Grillby deserved was for Sans to be dismissive of obvious cries for help.

Guilt gnawed at the skeleton’s bones. Why did he let Grillby go home alone the night before? Why didn’t he say anything when his food was underdone? Why didn’t he just pay more attention? If their places were reversed, Grillby would have caught on to Sans’s ailment and made him rest days ago. Grillby was observant like that. He was a good, attentive friend. Was it really that much to ask for Sans to return the favor?

Thankfully, it didn’t seem like the situation was dire. After giving Alphys a rundown of everything that had happened, she seemed optimistic. “W-well,” the scientist stuttered over the phone, “It sounds like t-t-to me that, um, that he’s just been o-overworked. When- well, um, when y-y-you work too much, it c-catches up to you eventually, right? A few days, um, a few days of r-rest should- um, it should help him perk right back up! I think, heheh, heh…”

Sans sighed in relief. “Thanks, Al. I’m just glad he’s not dying or something.”

“He’ll b-be fine,” Alphys reassured. “Just k-k-keep an eye on him, and, u-um, and call me if he gets- if anything else happens.”

“Will do. Thanks.” Sans hung up the phone, looking back at the sleeping bartender. It was nerve-wracking to see him so still. What would have happened if Sans didn’t check on him? The door was unlocked! Anyone could have come in, and that ‘anyone’ could have been a monster with way more malicious intentions than Sans! The thought made the skeleton shudder, ice settling into his bones. What if Grillby hadn’t gotten home safely the night before? What if he’d frozen to death? He should have at least walked him home. Isn’t that what Grillby did, when he was worried about Sans? He said something, he acted, he made sure that Sans was okay and safe and taken care of. Sans had noticed the bartender struggling, and what did he do? Looked the other way. Why would he do that? Grillby could have been seriously hurt! Not that he wasn’t already! What if he had a concussion from the fall? Or sprained something?

“...Sans…”

The skeleton gasped, head jerking up. Grillby was awake, weakly reaching out and putting his hand on Sans’s arm. Sans sniffled, only then realizing that he’d been crying as he spiraled. He wiped at his eye sockets with his sleeve, sitting on the edge of the couch next to the fire monster. “Y-you’re awake,” he mumbled shakily. “You really had me scared there for a second, heh.”

“Well, there’s nothing to fear,” Grillby said with a small smile, voice a little raspy from days of nonstop talking to customers. He sat up slowly, leaning back up against the pillows before opening his arms to Sans. “Come here.”

Sans hesitated for just a moment… and then he was in Grillby’s arms, hugging tightly as he started to cry again. “I thought you were dying! Or Fallen Down, or something!” Sans said through his tears. He felt silly and selfish. Grillby was the one who was sick, and yet here he was, comforting Sans again. The skeleton suddenly sat up, upset with himself. “No, cut that out. I should be taking care of you right now, not- ugh!” He pulled his hoodie up over his head, embarrassed and ashamed. “Now is not the time to be worried about me, Grillbz.”

Grillby frowned at him, adjusting his glasses. “Sans-”

“No,” Sans huffed, cutting him off. “You need to be resting. You can’t prioritize me over your own health.”

“Sans, please-”

“And you really should have taken a break days ago,” Sans interrupted once again. “I know I’m not one to talk, but you’ve gotta pay attention to yourself! I know you like your job and your customers and all but it does no one any good if you work yourself to-”

“SANS.” Grillby raised his voice a bit, reaching forward and lifting the skeleton’s chin to make him look at him. Sans immediately felt guilty for the lecture, seeing the expression on the bartender’s face. Grillby was hunched in on himself, shoulders hitched up slightly with tension. Sans could feel where the fire monster’s hand trembled slightly against his skull. What broke the skeleton, though? Tears were forming in Grillby’s eyes, shining under his glasses for a split second before disappearing in a puff of steam. Sand had never, ever seen Grillby cry, and the quickly growing trails of steam coming off the bartender’s eyes made him feel like his soul was cracking.

Grillby lowered his hand, bringing it to his chest as his gaze dropped to his lap. His voice was barely more than a whisper, vulnerable and wavering. “I know,” he said softly, “I know. I just- please… Can I have a hug?”

God, Sans was an idiot. “Of course, Grillbz, come here.” He really couldn’t do anything right, could he? He moved forward again, taking the fire monster into his arms and rubbing his back. “Shh, hey, I’m sorry, don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I’m not mad at you, it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.” Grillby always knew what Sans needed. He knew the skeleton so well, from his schedule to his habits to his anxiety. How much did Sans know about Grillby, though? He never asked him many questions about his personal life. He didn’t ask about his family. Hell, he rarely even asked if Grillby was okay. He was starting to realize… this relationship was one-sided, wasn’t it? Well…

Sans would do everything in his power to remedy that.

Comforting his best friend on the couch, Sans made a silent promise to himself and Grillby. He was going to be a better friend, and he was going to take care of his bartender. This time, he would be the one making sure that Grillby didn’t come apart.

Grillby had stopped crying some time ago, but he stayed in Sans’s arms anyway, head resting against Sans’s shoulder as he took long, deep breaths. His head was pounding and his limbs felt like they were made of lead, a sore ache seeming to fill his body down to his soul. The past several days of unrelenting work and exercise were catching up to him, and he found himself feeling sicker than he’d ever felt before. He wasn’t sure why he pushed himself so hard. He’d been fairly good at taking periodic breaks when he needed them before, he just…

Well. He wanted to see Sans.

Business was business, but certain kinds of business could feel unwelcome and overwhelming in the moment. Customers were rude, offhanded comments stung, and the behaviors of some of his customers could get irritating. If there was one thing he could always look forward to, though, it was seeing his favorite skeleton. As soon as that familiar blue jacket came through the door, something in him would ease, and he would be able to push himself through the rest of the night with the promise of getting to talk to the one person he could consider a close friend. Recently, that desire to see Sans had been bordering on desperation. He’d considered asking Sans if he would like to meet outside of work, on Grillby’s days off, but was that overstepping? Would that be awkward?

Wrapped in Sans’s embrace, those fears felt silly. Of course Sans wouldn’t mind it. Grillby wasn’t sure what had pushed them past that line of a bartender/customer relationship, but he felt like they were suddenly much closer. Maybe it was the night Grillby had walked Sans home. Maybe it was the afternoon he’d coaxed Sans into resting, wrapping him in his coat and tucking him into bed before staying the night to make sure he didn’t feel alone.

Maybe it was the way he felt himself fluster at the soft compliments and praise Sans gave him to help him keep going. Maybe it was the familiar amusement and fondness that filled his chest when he and Sans went back and forth with their usual banter. Maybe it was because he still hadn’t mentioned his missing jacket.

Grillby felt Sans’s hand move up to the back of his head, the skeleton running his fingers through the flames that acted as Grillby’s hair. For some reason, it made the bartender want to cry again. Instead, he took a deep, shaky breath, and curled closer to Sans, seeking out that familiar comfort. For the first time in days, he was sure that he was going to be okay.

Sans wasn’t sure how long he spent comforting Grillby, but by the time the fire monster had relaxed all the way, it was nearly time for lunch. He could tell that the bartender had exhausted himself with his tears, but he needed to eat something before he went back to sleep. He had a lot of calories to catch up on, after all.

The skeleton slowly pulled away, cupping Grillby’s cheek. “Hey, I know you’re tired, but you need to eat something first. I’ll make up some ramen real quick, ‘kay?”

Grillby nodded tiredly, leaning into Sans’s touch for a moment. His hand came up to rest over Sans’s as he closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he sighed. “I… I needed that.”

“I could tell,” Sans chuckled gently. “Just try to stay awake while I whip up some grub. I’ll be right back.” He let go of the fire monster and stood, stretching before wandering to the kitchen. His soul was pounding in his ribcage. The warm, gentle way that Grillby looked at him was seared into his mind. The skeleton couldn’t quite identify what it made him feel, but he liked it way too much. He was pretty sure that if Grillby looked at him that way all the time, he would melt.

Shaking off whatever that feeling had been, Sans put a pot of water on the stove, rummaging around in the cabinets until he found a packet of instant noodles. He was glad he still had a few packs left. While there was plenty of semi-edible spaghetti in the fridge, the microwave was still sitting out in Snowdin Forest. Since, you know, Frisk hadn’t come through there yet.

The thought of Frisk made Sans drop the pack of noodles on the floor. Shit. He hadn’t been at his post once all day. What if the human had come out of the Ruins? And Sans wasn’t keeping an eye on them? How had he forgotten about them? He wasn’t sure what they were planning, but at this point, he was sure it couldn’t be good. He had to be there to make sure he was the first person they saw. He had to be keeping an eye out.

“Sans?” Grillby called out, sitting up a bit straighter. He’d heard the skeleton freeze up and drop the package, immediately worried. “Is everything alright?”

Right. Grillby needed someone to watch over him today. Sans could call Papyrus, but the taller skeleton brother could be a bit… much. Sans loved his brother, but when it came to caring for others, Papyrus’s constant energy could be overwhelming. He considered his options carefully. He could go out to his post and hope that Frisk hadn’t already come through, leaving Grillby alone, or he could stay home and just pray that today would be just like the past two weeks.

For the first time in a long time, Sans found that he had a higher priority than watching that damn door in the woods.

“Yeah, everything’s good. Just dropped something,” Sans called to Grillby as he picked up the instant noodles and opened the package, waiting for the water to boil. Even if Frisk did show up, it was unlikely that Sans would be able to do anything about it, right? Right. He could do something about Grillby’s condition, so that was what he would do.

Once Grillby had eaten something, he had enough energy left in him for Sans to get a better grasp on the bartender’s condition. Grillby admitted to having a headache, and he told Sans that he was so sore that he barely felt like he could move. He also hadn’t had much of an appetite over the last few days, but he was starting to get hungry again, so that was probably just the stress. Sans checked his temperature again and was relieved to find that it was steadily rising to normal now that the fire monster had some ‘fuel’ in him (Grillby groaned at that one). Once the little check-up was over, Sans gave Grillby some painkillers and brought a blanket for him. “You sure you don’t want me to move you somewhere more comfortable? I practically carried you to my house, I’m pretty sure I could help you up the stairs and get you into a bed…”

Grillby shook his head, regretting the action as it immediately started to throb again. “No, I’m- I’m fine here,” he managed. “The idea of moving at all is less than savory at the moment.”

“Fair,” Sans mumbled, handing him the blanket. “Well, just get some rest, okay? You need it. I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Grillby didn’t have to be told twice. He laid back down with a sigh, covering himself with the blanket and pulling it to his chest. “Thank you,” he said softly, closing his eyes and letting himself relax.

Sans chuckled, some of his anxiety finally easing off. “Don’t mention it, Grillbz. Sleep tight.”

Over the next few days, Sans stayed home with Grillby, keeping an eye on his recovery. The fire monster was bouncing back pretty fast, though he did spend most of his time sleeping. They fell into a sort of routine. Sans would wake him- if Papyrus hadn’t already woken him up on accident- and ask him how he was feeling. Grillby would give him the rundown, then the two would have breakfast before Grillby went back to sleep. Sans would wake him up again for lunch, and at that point, the fire monster usually had a little bit more energy in him. He’d stay up for a few hours just talking with Sans before he ran out of steam and had to take another nap. Papyrus would come home in the evening and inevitably wake Grillby by accident, so Grillby would stay up for the rest of the evening, eating dinner with the skeletons and talking to Papyrus about his day.

Sans was a little surprised at how well Grillby and Paps got along. Grillby was pretty patient with him, even if he had to ask the skeleton to lower his volume a few times. He let Papyrus ramble about puzzle ideas and cooking, even throwing in a few tips of his own on how Papyrus could improve his spaghetti. People were polite enough to Paps, but Sans had seen plenty of times how other monsters could be dismissive of his brother. A few would even be downright rude, telling Papyrus that they didn’t care and asking him to just be quiet. With as composed and quiet as Grillby could be, Sans worried that he wouldn’t get along well with Paps, so it was a nice surprise to see them hitting it off so well.

The routine was nice. Grillby’s health steadily improved over the next weeks or so, to the point that Sans was comfortable leaving him home alone and going back to sentry duty. He was still nervous about the idea of Grillby going back to work, but he also had to admit, the bartender was getting restless. Sans managed to get him to agree to three more days before he opened the bar back up again.

Sans went over all of this in his head as he walked towards his station, feet crunching in the snow. It had been a long time since he felt this relaxed. He was… happy. Yeah. He was really, genuinely happy.

Of course, that wasn’t meant to last.

As the door in the woods came into sight, Sans stopped dead in his tracks. There were no footprints in the snow, no indication anyone had left the Ruins. The door was closed, undoubtedly locked tightly from the inside. Everything was as it should have been at a glance, but Sans had learned to pay careful attention to detail.

The snow at the base of the door had been moved. There was a small pile of it where the door had been pushed open slightly, as if someone had just peeked out before changing their mind and closing it again. It was a small reminder. Frisk hadn’t left the Ruins yet, but they were still there. Sans still didn’t know what they were doing, waiting all this time.

Why? Why did they have to remind Sans they were there, and why then? What the hell were they doing in the Ruins?

The skeleton teleported to the door, anxiety filling him as he did. He didn’t bother knocking, because he knew there would be no answer. Toriel never answered when Frisk was with her. She was too busy… or too dead. The thought made Sans go cold. What if Frisk hurt Toriel again? What if they were just coming up with new, crueler ways to torment them? And if they were, what could Sans do about it?

Sans sat in front of the door, trying to take deep breaths only to find his ribcage wouldn’t expand as far as he needed it to, making him gasp weakly for air. He was helpless. He was useless. Frisk had learned every trick Sans had. It didn’t matter if he confronted them in the judgment hall or the moment they left the Ruins. He would fail to protect anyone Frisk decided needed to die. Sans couldn’t breathe. Frisk could be fucking torturing Toriel and the innocent monsters of the Ruins and what could Sans do? Absolutely nothing. He couldn’t breathe. Frisk could be waiting right on the other side of that door, listening to Sans choke and laughing at him. Were they messing with him on purpose? Did it matter? No matter what they did, they never faced any real consequences. Sans did everything he could and every time, Frisk just Reset and started over.

Sans’s vision was starting to get blurry, his pupils fading out. He pulled his knees to his chest and covered his skull with his hands, shivering. Any moment, everything Sans had done in the last month could be erased. Every moment he shared with Papyrus, the friendship he found himself sharing with Grillby, all of it could be gone in a moment and the skeleton could do nothing.

The skeleton vaguely registered that he was spiraling, but he couldn’t pull himself out of it. He couldn’t protect the monsters he loved. He swore he heard Frisk laughing at him. He couldn’t protect their memories, their lives, their progress. “Sans.” He was useless. He couldn’t breathe. “Sans, look at me.” Look at who? He couldn’t see. He couldn’t calm down, panic pulling at his soul. Was he dying? “Can you hear me? Sans, you have to breathe.” He couldn’t. He was going to die. Everyone was going to die. There was nothing he could do. “Sans, stop, you’re going to hurt yourself.” Was he? It didn’t matter.

Whoever was talking to the skeleton seemed to understand what was going on, taking matters into their own hands. “Sans, I’m going to hold your wrists, alright?” Okay. Sans vaguely registered a familiar warmth envelope his wrists and pull his hands away from where he’d been digging them into his soul. “I’m going to put my arms around you, just for a moment.” Do whatever you want. The skeleton was wrapped in a gentle embrace, pulled forward so that he was sitting in someone’s lap. “I’m going to hold your hands now. Focus on your hands. Focus on my breathing and try to match it.” Sans could feel the steady rise and fall of someone’s chest against his back. He focused on the pattern as someone took both his hands and started to rub gentle lines up and down the bones. It was the same pattern as the person’s breathing, and surprisingly, it helped him focus a bit. Sans felt his ribcage start to relax as he fell into that pattern. He realized his eye sockets were closed and slowly forced them open.

Sans was facing away from the door and away from the road, staring into Snowdin Forest. He was still shaking from adrenaline, but it didn’t feel like his soul was about to be torn apart anymore. Someone had him in his lap, and after a moment he realized that someone was humming. He looked down at where they had started rubbing circles into his palms. The hands that held his so gently were made of familiar orange and yellow flames, the light reflecting off the snow in an oddly comforting way.

The skeleton looked up at Grillby, exhausted as he came down from his panic attack. Grillby smiled gently at him, letting go of one of Sans’s hands to brush away the skeleton’s tears. “There you are,” the bartender mumbled softly. “It’s alright. You’re safe. I’m here.”

And when Grillby said that with so much certainty, how could Sans not believe him?

Sans wasn’t sure how long he spent curled up in Grillby’s lap, but it was longer than he liked to admit. The bartender had carried him away from that godforsaken door and sat with him behind the skeleton’s sentry station, effectively shielding him from the world for a little while. God, what would Sans have done if Grillby hadn’t come to his rescue? Sans’s memories of the last who-knows-how-long were blurry, but he vaguely remembered Grillby warning him that he was going to hurt himself. The skeleton only had 1 HP. What if he really had hurt himself, and badly?

As grateful as the skeleton was, there was a more pressing question in the front of his mind. “Grillbz? What are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be resting…”

Grillby sighed, having expected that. “I know, I know,” he conceded, “But I got restless, and… you forgot to take lunch with you this morning.”

Sans sat up a bit, eye sockets wide. “You didn’t.”

“Well,” the bartender chuckled, “As… interesting as Papyrus’s spaghetti is, I had a feeling you might have missed this.” He shifted a bit and reached up to the counter of Sans’s sentry station, grabbing a brown paper bag that Sans had somehow missed. When Grillby set it in his lap, Sans could feel that the bar was still warm.

Sans eagerly looked in the bag, a particular craving he’d been ignoring the past few days hitting him at full force. A burger, a basket of fries, and a bottle of ketchup. He pulled the burger out and dug in, groaning through a mouthful of food. He swallowed and sighed contently, leaning back against Grillby’s chest. “God, I missed your cooking.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it,” Grillby said through another light chuckle.

“Enjoy it? I’ve been practically in withdrawal the last few days, Grillbz.” Sans took another large bite out of his burger, washing it down with a sip of ketchup. After a moment of consideration, he took a fry out of the bag and held it up towards Grillby. “Couldn’t help but notice you didn’t bring anything for yourself,” the skeleton explained.

Grillby smiled a bit. “I appreciate it, but I can eat later.”

Sans just held it up higher, insistent. “Dude. Just take the fry.”

Grillby arched an eyebrow, then gave Sans a small, mischievous smile. “Alright, fine.” He leaned forward and took it from Sans with his mouth, smirking at him.

Sans nearly choked, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god, Grillbz, you can’t just do that.”

Grilby laughed at him. “What? I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” the bartender teased, wrapping his arms around Sans’s waist.

“You know what? Fine.” Two could play at that game. Sans picked up another fry, holding it to Grillby’s lips. “Eat something, you dork.”

The skeleton would never get enough of the beautiful way Grillby glowed when he blushed.

End Chapter Four

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[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

A Warm Feeling

Chapter Two: Exhaustion

Summary: Sans is tired to the point of feeling ill. Once again, Grillby helps.

Warnings for this chapter: Nightmares, sleep deprivation, anxiety, almost 4000 words I had to loosely edit to fit a satisfying Tumblr format that surely got a little jumbled in the copy-paste process

Chapter One

Read this on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad!

“SANS! TIME TO GET UP, LAZYBONES! I’M MAKING BREAKFAST SPAGHETTI AND IF IT’S COLD BY THE TIME YOU GET DOWN HERE I’M NOT REHEATING IT FOR YOU!”

Sans’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Papyrus’s voice. He groaned, rolling over onto his side. It was the day after Grillby had walked him home, and he had just started to fall asleep. Leftover anxiety from his nightmare had kept him up all night, his mind tormenting him with ‘what ifs’ and memories of unpleasant past runs. Nightmares and anxiety weren’t uncommon for Sans, but it had been awhile since it was that bad. He wanted to just close his eyes and ignore his brother, but then again, warm breakfast spaghetti was much better than cold spaghetti.

Sans sat up and stretched in a vain attempt to relieve the aching in his bones, grabbing his hoodie and throwing it on before he made his way downstairs. “Alright, alright,” he mumbled, “I’m up. Geez Paps, no need to get so rattled up.”

Papyrus groaned from the kitchen. “That was a stretch even for you!”

“Hey, I just woke up. It’s the best I got.” Sans chuckled and made his way into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of plates.

If Papyrus had pupils, his expression said that he’d be rolling his eyes. He focussed back on stirring his spaghetti sauce, letting his exasperation go for a moment. “So,” he said, “After work, I’m going to Undyne’s house to train, but I won’t be coming home. Dr. Alphys is letting Undyne borrow something called ‘anime’. Apparently it’s some kind of documentary about humans? Undyne wants me to spend the night to watch it with her and to teach me about human fighting! It may not be MTT TV, but it sounds educational!”

Something in Sans’s soul shivered at the idea of Papyrus being out of his sight the entire day. He really didn’t want to be alone in the house, and having his brother nearby helped him feel a bit more secure when his anxiety was running high. He wanted to ask Papyrus to stay home, but… how could he? Papyrus sounded really excited, and Sans felt stupid for being so clingy. “Sounds great, Paps,” Sans managed to mumble, grabbing forks and putting them on the table. Did they go on the right or the left of the plate? Eh, he couldn’t remember. He’d just put them at the top of the plate instead. Good enough.

Papyrus seemed to sense Sans's hesitation, voice taking on a tone of worry. "If… if that's not 'great', brother, I can ask Undyne if we could reschedule. I know you haven't been sleeping well, and that you get lonely when I'm not here…"

"Nah, Paps, it's fine," Sans attempted to reassure him. When Papyrus continued to look unconvinced, the shorter skeleton pulled on the best nonchalant smile he could manage. When Papyrus still looked unconvinced, he chuckled nervously. "Something in your expression tells me you're not going to take 'I'm fine' for an answer." He let the smile fade with a sigh, posture sagging. God, trying to appear fine as usual for even a minute had been exhausting. "Fine," he admitted, "I'm not doing great, but it's not a big deal, Paps. Definitely not a big enough deal for you to start cancelling plans."

"AHA!" Papyrus cried, brandishing a wooden spoon at Sans. "So you ADMIT that there is, in fact, a deal!"

"Sure," Sans chuckled, "I got plenty of deals. I'm selling wood carvings at three G a piece." Papyrus would've arched an eyebrow if he'd had one.

"Sans, you don't make wood carvings."

"That's why they're so cheap."

The taller skeleton groaned, nearly forgetting to take his sauce off the stove. "It doesn't work like- ugh, nevermind! I can see you don't want to talk about it. However," he continued, straightening up a bit to make a 'grand declaration', "If you need me for any reason, you need only call upon me, and I will return home!"

Sans smiled at his brother, his nerves briefly put at ease by Papyrus's antics. Yeah, Paps would only be a call away, right? Besides, Sans could handle a little nightmare or two on his own. He'd been fine. Everything would be fine.

Still, as the skeletons chatted over breakfast, Sans couldn't help the feeling of uneasy anticipation that followed him up. He could make it through one anxious evening on his own… right?

Sans wandered up to his post in the forest, grabbing a bottle of ketchup he’d left behind before going back around to the front and sitting down. He let his head fall back against the wood with a soft thunk. His bones ached in protest as he settled into the snow, causing him to groan. Usually he would just take a shortcut to his post from Snowdin, but he’d learned his lesson about a dozen resets ago. Shortcuts while tired? Never ended well. So, he’d had to walk all the way out to his post in the woods. He was pretty sure the walk had spent the last of the energy he had left. He would usually go all the way to the door in the woods, but even the thought of that little extra distance made him want to throw up. Or cry. Maybe both. It was just one of those days.

He took a swig from the ketchup bottle and kept his eyes on the snow-covered road, ignoring how the light reflecting off of it gave him a headache. He resolved to just keep an eye out for Frisk from his new favorite seat. It had been four days, so they could come out of the Ruins at any moment. Seriously, what was taking them so long? Sans almost wanted to just blast through the door and go find out himself. Eh, maybe on the next run. Wouldn’t that be a shock for Frisk? To see Sans in the Ruins? If he took a shortcut, maybe he could even get to them before Toriel.

Sans closed his eye sockets as he let his thoughts wander, sighing. He was actually starting to feel really comfortable. The snow was cold, yeah, but it took him way longer to get uncomfortably cold than other monsters, because of the whole ‘no skin’ thing. It must have snowed early that morning, because the top layer of powder was light and fluffy, supporting Sans’s back a bit more as he sank into it.

A tap on Sans’s shoulder caught his attention and he slowly opened his eyes. When he did, his whole body tensed.

Frisk.

The human child’s hands were covered in dust, and they were smirking as they tapped Sans awake with the tip of their toy knife. They raised it, and the skeleton didn’t even have a chance to react before-

Sans jolted awake with a shout, eye flaring blue as he gripped his chest, trying to steady his breathing as he oriented himself. He must have dozed off at some point without realizing. Shit. What if Frisk really had snuck up on him? What if Frisk snuck past him? He quickly straightened up and looked down the road. Thankfully, the snow leading down towards the door to the Ruins was untouched, bearing no human footprints, or any footprints at all. The fact that Sans wasn’t buried in snow proved that there hadn’t been any recent snowfall to cover up footprints, either. Frisk was still in the Ruins. For now, everyone in Snowdin was okay.

It occurred to Sans just how cold he’d gotten, a shiver running through him. Jeez, how long was he sitting in the snow? He really needed to start wearing a watch or something. His internal clock wasn’t super reliable when he was so tired his hands were shaking. Ignoring the protests of his joints, the skeleton got to his feet. He had to lean against his sentry post for a moment as a wave of dizziness came over him. Now that Sans had gotten a brief moment of rest, his body seemed determined to make him go back to sleep. At all costs. That couldn’t be good.

Sans turned and looked back the way he came. It was going to be a long walk home, and the longer he stayed up, the worse he felt. He could sleep at his station like he used to, sure, but after laying in the snow for who knows how long the cold was starting to get to him. He could wait until Papyrus came to check on him and ask his brother for help, but then Papyrus was sure to go home with him and fret. Frisk could show up at any moment… but what could Sans even do in this state? He probably couldn’t even stick to his usual routine, swaying tiredly on his feet as he contemplated his next move. Looking back down the road at the glistening snow, Sans made his choice. He was going home. Now. He’d get some rest before going to his Waterfall post. Then Papyrus wouldn’t suspect a thing, and Sans could recover a bit before Paps went to Undyne’s. After all, there was no way Sans was going to sleep with Papyrus gone.

Cutting through the woods to avoid most of the other sentry posts and puzzles, Sans made his way back towards Snowdin, stumbling a bit as he did. After a close call where he nearly lost his balance on the narrow wood bridge leading towards town, he was starting to think that he was developing a crush on his mattress. He did his best to look at least semi-alert as he walked through town, waving to others who acknowledged him as they went about their day.

As he passed Grillby’s, Sans slowed to a stop, looking up at the sign and briefly thinking about the night before. Come to think of it, he’d gotten a good few hours of sleep while he was sitting at Grillby’s bar. It wasn’t enough, considering those few hours probably accounted for most of the sleep Sans had gotten in the past four days, but he couldn’t imagine how much worse he would be feeling right then without it. Not only that, but Grillby had let Sans stay late, allowing the skeleton to have that much-needed rest without being disturbed. Grillby probably didn’t know how much that meant to him. Sans made a mental note to thank the bartender again later, not sure if he had given him a proper ‘thank you’ yet.

The door opening pulled Sans from his thoughts. Speak- or think- of the devil. Grillby had stepped outside, walking over to Sans with a slight frown. “Sans? Are you alright? You’ve been standing outside for a good ten minutes.”

Really? That long? Sans had been sure he only paused for a moment. “Yeah, I’m alright,” the skeleton mumbled, “Just lost in thought I guess.”

“Well,” Grillby said with a lingering hint of worry, “Why don’t you go ahead and come inside? I was about to break for lunch, myself, and I wouldn’t mind a bit of company.”

It took Sans a moment to catch up with what the bartender said, but when he did, he chuckled. “This isn’t a trick to make me rack up a larger tab, is it?”

Grillby couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth twitched upward slightly at the comment. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll take care of that yourself later. This one is on the house.”

Grillby led the way into the bar. It was pretty slow, the only patrons being the usuals that hung around taking up seats pretty much from open to close. Sans moved to go sit at his usual barstool, but was pleasantly surprised when Grillby put a hand on his shoulder and guided him past the bar and into the kitchen. The kitchen was surprisingly small and very clean. “Nice setup you got here, Grilbz,” Sans commented lightly. “I honestly kinda expected a fancier lineup, with how busy you get some nights. Color me impressed.”

If Sans didn’t know any better, he’d say Grillby was blushing. The bartender adjusted his glasses a bit, clearing his throat. “W-well, I light to keep a tight ship, and it’s just me back here. Anyway, there’s a couple of chairs and a small table in the back right corner, over there. I’ll cook us up some lunch, you make yourself comfortable,” Grillby said invitingly.

Sans didn’t have to be told twice. He made himself comfortable in a folding chair as he watched Grillby cook, sighing as his sore legs got some relief. The kitchen was comfortably warm, and Sans found himself in danger of falling asleep again, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Grillby glanced up at the skeleton, then looked back down at the stove, where he was toasting the bun for Sans’s burger. He carefully broke the silence, softly asking, “Did you get any sleep last night? You look exhausted.”

Sans shrugged, finding himself being surprisingly candid with Grillby. “A little. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” Grillby finished putting together the burger and grabbed a bottle of ketchup, walking over to Sans and putting both in front of him. “Perhaps you should stay here while I call your brother…”

“No!” Sans sat up straighter, then took a deep breath to calm himself down. “No, it’s okay. I don’t want to worry him. He’s got plans tonight, and you know how he is. He’ll cancel to fret over me the second he thinks something is wrong.” He looked down at the plate and mumbled a, “Thanks, by the way,” before picking up the burger and biting into it. The warmth from the food seemed to spread through him, making him relax back into his chair again. Was it bad that all it took was a burger to put him at ease for a moment? He swallowed and sighed contently, then noticed that Grillby was watching him. “Really, Grillbz, I’m fine. I can take care of myself.”

Grillby debated with himself for a moment, then decided to let it go. “Alright, if you say so.” The timer on the fryer went off and he got up, taking out the fries and tossing them in salt before dumping them into a basket. To Sans’s surprise, Grillby got another basket out and lined it with paper, preparing a small salad for himself.

“Uh, Grillby?” Sans prompted with amusement, “Doesn’t a basket of fries cancel out like, all the health benefits of eating a salad?”

Grillby rolled his eyes. “For your information, I just happen to like salads. I prefer to have a light lunch, anyway.” He went over to the table and sat across from Sans. “Health has nothing to do with it. Besides, you’re one to talk. How many of my burgers do you eat a week? Excuse me, I meant a day?”

Sans set the already half-eaten burger down, putting his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay! Don’t go turning into Papyrus on me. My bro already gives me an earful about my eating habits, and I don’t even have ears.”

Grillby chuckled, starting to pick at his fries. “Well, just tell me that it’s because you like my cooking, and I’ll let it slide.”

Sans lowered his hands with a smirk. “Okay. It’s because I like your cooking. You make a mean burger, Grillbz, and I mean it.”

Okay, that time Grillby definitely blushed. “I-i- oh, um, thank you,” the bartender stammered, caught off guard. He didn’t think Sans would actually say it!

The skeleton laughed, wiping his hands on his shorts as he leaned back in his chair. He hadn’t felt this relaxed all day. It was… nice. “Thanks for this, Grillby. Sure beats eating lunch alone at home.” He picked up the ketchup bottle and took a long drink, setting the bottle down when he was done and leaning back in his chair. He was warm, he was fed… and he felt safe. Tucked in the corner of the quiet kitchen, Sans felt completely hidden from the world. He let his eyes drift closed, taking a deep breath…

And barely a moment later, he had finally fallen asleep.

Later that day, Sans stirred slightly, barely aware as someone draped something soft over him and lifted him out of the chair he’d fallen asleep in. He wanted to protest being carried, but instead he found himself curling into the chest of whoever was holding him, mumbling something incoherent that vaguely resembled the word ‘warm’. Whoever it was chuckled, a deep vibration in their chest that comforted the skeleton somehow. Sans sighed as he resigned himself to his new position, settling into the person’s arms…

The next thing he could remember was cold. He shivered slightly and the person carrying him paused to adjust the soft material Sans was wrapped in to cover him better. The snow crunched under their feet as they walked, and Sans could have sworn, for just a moment, that they were humming.

A sudden shift in angle caused Sans to squint his eyes open, confused. He was… in his bedroom, laying on his mattress. The only light in the room was the warm glow coming from the figure that was tucking a blanket over him. “Grillbz…?”

Grillby smiled down gently at Sans. “It’s alright,” he reassured, “Just go back to sleep.”

That was all the encouragement Sans needed.

When Sans woke up, light was filtering in through his window. A glance at his phone- when had he plugged that in?- informed him that it was a little past nine in the morning. By his standards, he was up early. By Papyrus’s standards, he’d slept in. He was definitely late for work.

Sans sat up and stretched, back and shoulders popping as everything shifted back into place. Something fell off his shoulders and he glanced down. That… wasn’t his blanket. Blinking in confusion, Sans picked up the warm black jacket he’d been wrapped in, confused. Come to think of it, how did he even get home? He had to admit, most of the day before had been a blur. He’d been exhausted out of his mind, after all. The last thing he could remember was eating lunch with Grillby.

Now that he was paying full attention to his situation, Sans realized that he felt surprisingly well rested. He hadn’t been disturbed by nightmares or resurfacing memories all night. When was the last time that had happened? His morning was just getting stranger and stranger, though not exactly in a bad way. Of course, now that he was sitting up, his bladder made its complaints known and he was forced to get out of bed. He could solve the jacket mystery later. For now, he supposed he should get his day started.

One trip to the bathroom and a shower later, and Sans was feeling more alert than he had in… he didn’t even know how long. The skeleton threw on some gym shorts and a t-shirt, heading back towards his room. That’s when Sans finally noticed him.

Glancing down into the living room, Sans did a double take. Grillby was laying on his side on the couch, glasses askew. There was a book sitting open on the floor, indicating that the bartender had fallen asleep reading. Grillby had not only taken Sans home, but had stayed with him, trying to stay awake in case his friend had another nightmare.

As Sans realized what had happened, he felt himself grow warm with embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to worry his friend, much less make him feel the need to stay the night! Despite that, Sans was actually kind of touched. No, he was definitely touched. Slipping back into his room, he grabbed the blue blanket off his mattress, quietly taking it downstairs and draping it over the sleeping fire monster. He made his way into the kitchen, thinking. He wasn’t a great cook, but hey, he could get some coffee started and at least try to operate the toaster.

Sans was just pulling the fifth and sixth pieces of burnt toast (seriously, how could anyone make a toaster this complicated) when he heard a yawn coming from the living room, followed by sleepy grumbling. He poured a cup of (thankfully not burned) coffee and headed that way, smiling a bit when he saw Grillby sitting up on the couch. “Hey. The librarians are going to get onto you if you keep leaving books laying on the floor. The pages get bent that way.”

Grillby sighed and rolled his eyes. “Good morning to you too,” he mumbled gruffly. “Did you sleep well?”

Okay, Sans should not have shivered when Grillby said that, but he certainly didn’t expect Grillby’s voice to be gravelly in that way when he woke up. It made the skeleton think of a campfire, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “U-um, pretty good,” Sans managed. He held the cup of coffee out, which Grillby accepted gratefully.

The two sat in silence for a moment, neither of them sure what to say. Finally, Grillby spoke up. “Are you feeling any better? You looked like you felt awful yesterday.”

Sans chuckled. “Honestly? I didn’t even know how bad I felt until I woke up feeling better this morning. Thanks for bringing me home. Again.” He glanced at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck. “Did you stay up late with me?” he asked shyly. “You really didn’t have to. But, um, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome,” Grillby said simply. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I know that you can’t sleep without Papyrus home when you’re feeling anxious. Besides… I… well, I wanted to stay. I was worried.” He blushed and sipped on his coffee, not meeting Sans’s eyes.

“Worried?” Sans looked up at Grillby. This guy was just full of surprises lately, huh? “Aww, Grillbz,” Sans chuckled, unable to help teasing. “That was really sweet of you. I guess you can say you had a burning desire to help me?”

Grillby groaned. “Not before I’ve finished my coffee, Sans.”

You could have read this a day early! Stay updated on the latest chapters by viewing on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad. Also, if you've gotten this far, consider reblogging or just leaving a comment so other people can see this (and so I can stay motivated to keep writing). Thank you, and I hope you've enjoyed the story so far!

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

So it's past 1am and my anxiety has been eating me so here's some angst. I won't bother titling it, but I may come back and reblog it with the next scene tomorrow. I did not reread or edit this, just brain barfed into a Google doc. You have been warned.

Trigger warnings: passing out, injury, illness

CRASH! THUD!

Sans sat upright in bed, startled awake. What the hell was that? Did something fall over? "Grillbz, did you hear…" The skeleton trailed off, looking at the bed next to him.

It was empty.

Okay, maybe it was time for Sans to get really, really worried about what that loud sound had been. Maybe Grillby was up and he knocked something over, but maybe someone was robbing the house and Grillby was caught off guard and–

Sans's eye flared blue as he jumped out of bed, opening the door to his room and calling out through the house. "Grillby? Hey, is everything okay? Where are you, firefly?" The skeleton began to check around. It wasn't a big place, so it wasn't like that fire monster would be able to hide.

He wasn't in the bathroom, and nothing was knocked over or broken in the guest room either. That should have been reassuring, but each time he opened a door, something about the empty rooms bothered him. They were dark. Wherever Grillby was, the room was cast in a soft yellow and orange glow. Sans had gotten used to it. It was comfortable, comforting even. Not knowing where Grillby was, calling out to him and getting no answer…

Sans was never scared of the dark before, but looking into the dark living room, he found himself very afraid.

Finally, as the entrance to the kitchen came into view, Sans spotted that familiar orange glow, sighing in relief. "Hey, Grillbz, what are you doing up? I heard a… oh shit."

Well, Sans found out what had broken. The coffee pot was shattered on the floor, each piece of glass glittering in the soft light and casting patterns on the walls and ceiling. The shadows seemed to slowly dance, changing colors as the fire that fuled them flickered. Laying in the center of the kitchen, beneath all those enchanting, luminescent displays was Grillby, sprawled out on his side. Eyes closed. Not moving.

Sans panicked, carelessly stepping on shining pinpricks of glass as he pulled Grillby into his arms. "No, no no no, fuck," Sans whispered to himself, cupping Grillby's cheek with one hand. "Grillby, wake up. Come on. Don't do this. Wake up."

The skeleton summoned Grillby's soul, desperate for an answer. He was down a few HP from the glass, but that was it, so there was no major injury. Feeling his forehead, his temperature seemed normal, if maybe just a tad high. So what caused it? Where was the injury, the illness, anything? Sans couldn't fix the problem if he couldn't find it, and that scared him more than anything.

A soft groan pulled Sans from his thoughts. "Grillby, thank god!"

The fire monster was barely able to open his eyes, barely lucid. "Wh…? Where…?"

"You're in the kitchen," Sans said softly. "You fell. Firefly, what happened?"

"...dizzy…" Grillby managed, closing his eyes again. "Head hurts… it… it hurts…" He started to cry, trembling in Sans's arms. "Fuck, it hurts!"

Sans pulled Grillby closer, holding him with one arm while pulling out his phone with the other. "Okay, I'm calling for help, it's okay. I've got you, you need to remember to breathe. Breathe, firefly, it's gonna be okay."

And so, Sans begged that Alphys was awake.

[mortimer-writes-sometimes]

Ok so 1) i really love your writing and i cant believe youve gone from sansby, a ship i really enjoy, to dbh which is sorta like,,, my base fandom that i fall back to whenever im not fixating on other fandoms to read fics from. does that make any sense ?? basically i love dbh so hell yea !!

and 2) i love the lgbtq+ coming of age story idea !! im going to be completely honest when i first read the post i skipped over the intro and thought it was a "which character would you be" sorta deal so im here to inform you that friend 2 is my absolute goal in life as an aspiring queer punk comp sci major. so yes you absolutely should write it bc i need to project (no pressure ofc ! /gen)

anyways im gonna shush now so ! i hope u have a lovely day

Aww, thank you!! Okay, you're really sweet, so I'll give you a sneak peek:

~

It was cold. It was so, so cold.

Connor could feel the thirium freezing in his veins. He distantly registered a gun in his hand. He didn’t have to be fully aware of his body to know that the metal burned against his skin like ice.

It was so cold.

His gyroscope froze and cracked. He collapsed into the snow with a strangled cry, the wind sweeping away any tears that didn’t freeze on his lashes.

He was distantly aware of a safety clicking off. No. No. They’d fought so hard. He fought so hard. It couldn’t end now. Connor felt the plating around his joints cracking like glass as he crawled forward, eyes fixed on the blue glow in front of him as ice tried to creep over his vision. Not like this. Please. Please, not like this.

Connor’s thirium lines froze and burst. His thirium pump cracked and warnings flashed in his vision. He lifted his hand and slammed it down on that glowing beacon of blue. Androids don’t feel pain, but when the Garden shattered, he screamed.

—

The first thing Connor was aware of when he opened his eyes was cheering. Androids were celebrating in the streets, hugging one another and crying tears of joy. He caught sight of Markus wiping tears from his own eyes as he stood tall and proud in front of his people. They were no longer slaves. They were finally free.

All of them except for Connor.

He wasn’t sure when he started trembling, but his hand shook as he looked down at the gun still in his hand. Everything felt muffled, as if he were trapped under a thick layer of snow. A quick scan of the weapon indicated that it wasn’t nearly cold enough to do damage to Connor’s skin, and yet the freezing metal seemed to bite into his palm, seeping into him and freezing the thirium in his veins as if he were still in the Garden. The Zen Garden. Once a place of sanctuary for Connor, the thought of the icy prison in his mind made his stress levels spike. He had reached the emergency exit just in time, but how did he know it was gone forever? What if Amanda was only momentarily disabled? She could be biding her time, waiting for Connor to let his guard down before trying again.

He wasn’t sure he could endure the blizzard a second time.

[all-the-lovely-newsies]

Race: So here’s the tea

Jack: For the last time it’s called a headline.

Race: Do you want the tea or not?

[all-the-lovely-newsies]

So APPARENTLY ‘Captain Jack’ is slang for heroin and now the line “Thanks to good old Captain Jack” has a whole new meaning to me.

[all-the-lovely-newsies]

Newsies Question #1

Which newsie would accidentally bite an onion, but then continue to eat all of it in an effort to convince the others he did it on purpose?