#i'll collect these asks and post them to Ao3 for easy reading when I'm done with them lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thornwolfy235 · 22 days ago

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WIP 5 - Panic Attack

I'm going to post a bunch of WIPs in a row now. maybe with a little feedback I'll get the gumption to finish one of them.

A bit of info on them first. I wrote all of these in an effort to deal with an exceptionally bad break-up (might as well call it a divorce, we lived together for 6 years). A lot of these are "how it should've gone" type stuff. I was never able to decide if they should be a full chapter by chapter "novel" or just a bunch of oneshots within the same universe and make a collection of them in order or whatever. Maybe I'll drop them to Ao3 as well. They are all xfem!Readers with my blorbos Grillby and Gaster (though most have no anatomy mentioned, so you can safely read no matter what gender you are). I'd appreciate a glance through if nothing else.

Here is the actual start to Grillby and Reader's realationship. And of course it starts with trauma and angst. But turns fluffy. Because I needed it.

CW: panic attacks, thoughts of self-harm but no follow through

You were spiraling, your thoughts spinning out of control. Anxiety over your mother’s health, stress from work, grief that never seemed to lessen…It was too much. Everything was too much. It was building up inside you, making your throat close up. You struggled to breath. You had to let it out, but there was so much inside you, an infection that had crept into every part of you and had festered and rotted so deeply that there was no easy way to root it out anymore. You stared at the kitchen counter even as your eyes blurred with tears. There were knives there, clean and sharp. A razor would be better, but you didn’t keep them around for this exact reason. But knives could work, too. They could open you up so the pressure could release, they could cut out the rot. You trembled. That was a bad thought, tempting but dangerous, could go wrong too easily. Your gaze shifted to the refrigerator. There was wine in there, some nearly untouched bottles. You didn’t drink often, maybe a glass once per blue moon, and more for the occasional taste than for the effects of the alcohol. It sometimes ended up in your cooking when you were feeling ambitious. You knew too much could mix badly with your medication. You had gotten lucky the last time you drank, when your ex had left you teetering alone on the edge of a panic attack just like this one. You had downed nearly an entire bottle in one go and passed out. You had done it because you hadn’t wanted to hurt yourself that time either, and had decided alcohol-induced unconsciousness was safer. Now at the same precipice, maybe it would be safer that way again.

You reached out and touched the fridge’s handle before forcing yourself to pull your hand back. You looked at the counter, at the black handles and shiny blades lined up neatly in their holder. “Bad…bad thoughts,” you muttered. Still staring at them, you reached into your pocket and took out your phone. Your hands shook violently as you dragged your attention to the screen, opened the call app, and then stared at the list of contacts. Who did you think you were going to call? You needed someone here, someone to hold you, ground you, talk you down, but your parents were out of town for your mom’s surgery, and your bestie didn’t live near you. Any geographically closer friends were probably asleep at this hour, and besides, you weren’t sure if they knew how to handle someone on the verge of a panic attack. You didn’t think they’d want to, anyways. You couldn’t burden them with your stupid issues. You weren’t worth it. You were so useless, you couldn’t even handle your own dumb emotions. You were broken, you always had been. Why ask someone else to try to fix you when you knew it was impossible?

You touched Grillby’s cell number, watched as the screen change to the calling icon. Why were you doing this? He had told you to call if your ever felt unsafe, and you definitely did not feel safe right now, but this hadn’t been how he meant it. Calling about this…you were only going to annoy him. He didn’t want to hear about your problems. He wouldn’t want to be friends with you anymore if he knew just how screwed up you were. The call connected. You heard a faint, business-like “good evening” come from the speaker that was nowhere near your ear. “I-I’m so-orry,” you choked out.

You were about to hang up the call when you heard Grillby say your name. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Even though you could barely hear him, the worry was evident. Reluctantly, you brought the phone to your face, but when you tried to speak, a harsh sob came out instead. There was the sound of wood scraping against wood. “What happened?” he asked in a tone that, while not angry, demanded a real answer from you.

“I-I…I don’t thi-ink I should be alone r-right now,” you said, clenching your hand into a white-knuckled fist as you fought to keep from breaking down completely.

“Are you safe?” A door opened and closed in the background. “I d-don’t know…m-mostly? I-I think I’m a-about to have a-a panic at-t-tack,” you stammered. You wished you could speak clearer, but the nervous energy you were shivering with made it impossible.

“Where are you?” His voice sounded different, and you realized it was because he was outside.

“I-I’m sorry, I sh-shouldn’t have bothered you,” you said quickly only to be cut off.

“No, you did the right thing to call someone.”

“B-but the pub –”

“Is closed.” There was the sound of a car door opening and shutting. “Where are you?” he asked again.

“…H-home.”

“And where is that?” he prompted. You gave him your address. An engine started, and the quality of his voice changed once more. “I’ll be there in ten minutes, okay? I’m going to stay on the phone with you.”

“D-don’t…Y-you’ll get in tr-trouble…can’t d-drive while on the phone.”

“I’m on speaker. It’s okay,” he said gently, patiently. “You’ve had panic attacks before, I take it. Do they happen often?”

“U-us-sed to a lot…th-then got m-meds and therapy for it…s-stopped seeing th-therapist after learning to handle this-is better…” Your throat tightened suddenly, as though trying to prove you wrong.

“Keep talking. You’re doing good. Are you still taking that medication?” The strangling feeling subsided a little bit at the sound of Grillby’s voice.

“Y-yeah, ’s why I do-on’t drink,” you said. Answering his questions was keeping you focused, which was preventing you from fully shutting down. Did he have experience with this sort of thing?

“Good. You’re taking care of yourself. That’s very good. What is the medication for?” You didn’t want to answer, afraid he’d realize just how stupid and weak and damaged you were. “It’s alright. I won’t judge you or tell anyone else, I promise. What is it for?” he said as though he could read your mind.

You whimpered, still scared, but you heard yourself say, “Dep-pression a-and anxiet-ty. I-I was getting bet-t-ter, I had b-been better. Then it got re-eal bad again. I-I’ve been trying t-to find a new th-therapist, but it’s s-s-slow going.”

He made a soft, sympathetic sound. “I’m so sorry. That’s a hard combination to deal with, but I’m glad you have been seeking help with managing it. When did this start happening again?”

“A-after…after h-he…” You couldn’t bring yourself to talk about your ex. It made your stomach churn. You tasted bile at the back of your throat. “It’s okay, I understand. You don’t have to talk about him. Try to breathe slowly and relax. I’m almost there. Just hang on for a little bit longer. Can you go wait by the door to let me in?”

You tried to answer, but instead began coughing. You ran to the sink, anticipating throwing up, but ultimately just hacked up a small wad of bile that you spat down the drain. It was better than full-on hurling, but still left an awful taste in your mouth. The strain had made the tears start, leaving hot trails down your cheeks. God, why were you such a fuck-up? You couldn’t even keep your shit together for ten stupid minutes. Just another failure to add to the list. That’s all you were, just a string of –

Your name was practically shouted into your ear, startling you into almost dropping your phone. “Can you hear me?! Answer me, please!” Grillby’s voice was being undercut by the roar of…flames? You hadn’t heard that before now…

“I-I’m,” you coughed again, but thankfully nothing came of it, “M’here.”

He muttered something you couldn’t make out. “Okay, okay…You’re alright…Listen, I need you to focus for just a little longer, okay?”

“I-I’m sc-scared,” you whimpered.

“I know. But you’re going to be okay. I’m just a few minutes away. You’re being so brave right now.”

“M’not bra-ave.” A hiccupping sob punctuated your last word. “Stupid a-and scar-red.”

“You’re not stupid. You called for help when you knew you needed it. That’s smart. And you are brave.”

“I’m w-weak. I ca-an’t handle my own sh-shit by mys-s-self.” The tears came harder, faster.

“That doesn’t make you weak. You’re not weak for being overwhelmed. You’re strong for reaching out. You don’t have to go through this alone. Especially now.” You heard a car pulling up outside and the engine shutting off over the phone. “I’m here. I’m right across the street. Which door is yours?”

Right, duplex. You should have thought to tell him that. You couldn’t find your voice anymore, so you made a humming sound to let him know you heard him and stumbled to the front door, almost forgetting to undo the chain before opening it.

His flames were high and wild with a strange, sickly green tinge to them. The moment he saw you, he shoved his phone into his pocket and all but sprinted to you. You were suddenly in his arms, feet leaving the floor as his momentum carried both of you back into your kitchen. Your knees buckled when he set you down and you went to the floor, hunched over and hyperventilating, dropping your phone in favor of clutching your arms as the attack you had been fighting back finally began in earnest. He swore under his breath and you felt his heat fade, heard the door close – See? He’s leaving. He hates you now. – and then he was kneeling in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, warmth enveloping you.

“I’m here, I’m right here. You’re not alone anymore. Can you look at me?” he asked, voice firm but gentle as he tried to get you to sit up.

“C-cah…ca-an’t, can’t, can’tcantcant,” the word tumbled repeatedly from your lips, shaking intensifying. Your chest tightened painfully. It felt like someone was pushing against it, forcing the air out of your lungs, turning the useless word into even more useless squeaks. You dug your nails into your arms.

His hands covered yours, forcing his fingers under yours before you broke skin. “It’s okay, spark, it’s okay,” he said, interrupting your chant. The feeling of vulnerability spiked as he uncrossed your arms, making your throat close off. You sat up abruptly, mouth open as you uselessly gasped for air. His hands went to your cheeks, forcing you to stay upright and looking into his face. “Focus on me. I’m here, you’re here, we’re safe. Don’t gulp for air. Take a slow breath. You can do it. Don’t shake your head at me, you can.” You managed a tiny breath. “There, good. Do that again. Very good! Take a longer one. Here, copy me.” He took a slow breath, held it, then let it out just as slowly. “Just like that. You can do it. Come on,” he urged. Your breaths were stuttery and gasping, not nearly as long or as smooth as his, but he praised you nonetheless. A rough, hiccupping sob interrupted you, making you screw your eyes shut. There was a sizzling hiss as new tears were forced down your cheeks and onto his hands.

Panic renewed, you tried to jerk away but he held you firm. You grabbed his wrists and tried to pry him off, but he refused to let you go. You heard more sizzling. “N-no, please. L-let go…’M hu-urting you,” you whined, clawing at his fingers. He had been nice enough to help you and now you were hurting him. That’s all you ever did, hurt the people –

“Stop, spark. It’s alright. Calm down. You’re doing so well, just breathe,” he tried to soothe you.

“H-hu-urting you, hurting you! I’msorry’msorrysorrysorry!” The wild crying began again, but instead of letting you go, he pressed his forehead to yours, filling your vision with his flames. Being this close let you see beyond the reflections in his glasses and to his eyes, steady, pale golden-yellow orbs in a sea of flickering orange. The effect was hypnotic, all your attention zeroing in on it.

“You’re not hurting me, I promise. You are not hurting me,” he said firmly. “I’m safe, you’re safe, we’re safe. Say it. ‘We are safe.’”

The tears still fell, but you managed to croak, “W-we-e ar-re sa-s-safe.”

“Good. That’s very good. Take a breath, now say it again,” he coached. He made you repeat both his words and his breathing over and over, praising you each time. It didn’t matter when you relapsed into sobs, how ragged the breathing, how garbled the words; He always responded with the same praise and encouragement.

The terrified tension slowly left you, and your hands slipped from his wrists as the numb exhaustion set in. The elemental eased you into a hug, pressing your head to his chest. With your ear to where his SOUL must be, you heard a similar roar to the one on the phone. His flames…he had been so worried by you that his flames had gone wild…They had looked so wrong when he arrived. He had been so upset, and you had been too lost in yourself to even realize it. Some friend you were. “I-I’m sorry,” you croaked, throat raw from your crying.

“Shhh, no, no…Don’t apologize, spark,” he murmured, petting your head.

“But I upset you…It’s so late and I bothered you.” Your voice was tired, all your emotions spent.

His grip on you tightened. “You didn’t bother me, and I would’ve been far more upset if you had decided to suffer alone or had hurt yourself. I’m glad you reached out for help, and I’m honored you trusted me enough to call.” You weren’t entirely sure if you believed that last bit, but you were too tired to argue.

“Thank you…for coming.”

“Of course. Let’s get you off the floor, and you should have some water after crying so long.” He helped you up, catching you as you swayed on your feet. There was something…odd in the way he held you to his chest as your vertigo passed, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was. Though…you did like it, the way his arms wrapped tightly around you, making you feel safe, protected, wanted. You were reluctant to leave his arms to go find a mug and get some water from the tap. You didn’t really want to drink it, feeling too drained to manage even that small action, but you knew you needed to rehydrate after bawling your eyes out. “Feel better?” Grillby asked as you put your mug into the sink to deal with later.

“Yeah…wrung out, but that’s pretty normal given…yeah…” you said tiredly, leaning on the counter.

“Understandable. Not to change topic, but…what is squeaking?” he asked.

You forgot your exhaustion in an instant. “Oh geez, Larkin must be having a fit!” you said, spinning on your heel and scooting past Grillby with a quick “Pardon!” as you scurried into the den.

Sure enough, Larkin was perched with her front paws on her water bowl, her soft wheeks warbling with worry. “Hey, fuzzy, it’s okay. I’m okay,” you cooed, opening her door. Her whines swapped to purrs as you scratched behind her ears, happy to let you scoop her up for snuggles. The moment she was close enough, she began licking your cheek, nose, and chin, making you smile and fight back giggles as her whiskers tickled you. When she paused, you buried your nose in her shoulder fur and breathed her in, the smell of hay and living animal making you feel a little more like you. “You probably want cuddles after listening to all of that, huh, piggo?” you said, snagging her lap-time towel. You turned and blushed as you saw Grillby in the doorway, who had just witnessed everything. “Sorry. Listening to me have a meltdown upset my guinea pig. Sitting with her for a bit should calm her down,” you explained, ducking your head bashfully as you made for the couch.

“That’s perfectly fine,” he said, following you, watching you sit cross-legged and settle her in the little valley made by your legs. Larkin stared up at you with bright black eyes, lifting her chin for scritchies, which you obliged.

“You can sit, if you like,” you offered shyly to Grillby, wondering if he thought you were crazy for how you fussed over the furry potato. The elemental did so, politely leaving a little space between you. The moment he sat down, Larkin wheeled around to glare at him, fluffing her fur up as she began chattering her teeth. “Larkin!” you scolded, recognizing the start of a warning display.

“Oh, did I frighten her?” Grillby asked, his flames dimming a little. “I-I am fire, and animals don’t like…”

“No. Well, alright, you may have startled her, but this reaction is the guinea pig equivalent of looking for a throw-down. Larkin, chill!” You tried rubbing behind her ears, normally a favorite spot, but she tossed her head in annoyance, now adding rumbles to her display. “Lark, what is the issue?! Grillby’s done nothing – Oh my god, I just figured out why she’s ticked. Really, pig? Really?” You ruffled the fur behind her shoulders, dragging her attention from him to you. She glared at you over her shoulder with a shrill wheek, annoyed that you wrecked her obviously terrifying performance. “Larkin, Grillby’s not the reason I’m upset. He didn’t make me cry, fuzzo. He’s very nice and came over to help me. Grillby’s a friend. You don’t have to protect me.” The grumping from her stopped as you talked, her eyes going from narrowed to normal. Her head angled towards him, clearly giving him the side-eye, fur still a little poofy. “Yes, him. He’s good. I promise.”

“She is…protecting you…” Grillby said skeptically, eyeing the two-pound rodent.

“Yeah…While my ex was still getting his junk out of my apartment, he would hang around for a bit and try to make nice with me, which I really didn’t want him to do, because he’d usually start in on how happy he was that I was being civil about him leaving me. Y’know, I hadn’t thrown his stuff out on the curb or whatever. Which maybe I should have because it took him a month and a half to get everything out, but I digress.” You sighed, rubbing behind the guinea pig’s ears as she deflated. “I always cried after he left because seeing him hurt so much, and it seemed like he was actively trying to make it hurt worse. Larkin put things together after the second time it happened and realized he was the cause. She started putting on the same show she just gave you whenever he came over. The message was ‘People who upset Mom will not be tolerated.’ And because I was having a freak out with you here, she must’ve decided it was your fault.”

Grillby stared at you for a long time before hesitantly saying, “Please don’t take offense to this. I want to say you’re jumping to conclusions, but…” He looked down at the guinea pig who was now lounging on her side and gazing at him curiously as though she hadn’t been gearing up to tear his head off – or at least deliver some very nasty bites – moments earlier. “…She certainly seems happier now that you’ve explained it to her…”

You snorted good-naturedly at that. “I get that a lot. I don’t believe she understands every word I say, but she – any animal, really – can certainly tell from my tone and body language how I’m doing. I just had to get her attention off you and onto me so I could show her that I was okay with you being here.” Now that you weren’t distracted by everything, you had a chance to actually look at him. He was still in his work clothes, though minus the vest and apron, his bowtie undone but still caught in his shirt collar. “I…I’m sorry again for interrupting your night.”

He shook his head. “Please don’t apologize. Truly, you did nothing wrong. I was doing a little paperwork when you called, and I certainly don’t mind getting away from that.” You laughed as he intended. He sat back, his arm across the couch behind you. “I am happy I could help you.” Worn out but content, you found yourself leaning towards him. It wasn’t a conscious thing, but he was so warm, and you were so tired. His arm slid from the back of the couch to around your shoulders, guiding you to rest your back against his side. You automatically relaxed against him, feeling safe. He held out his other hand for Larkin to sniff. She did so eagerly, was let down to find it didn’t have food, and settled back down with a huff. He used a finger to rub her forehead, which made up for some of her disappointment. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked softly.

You sighed, closing your eyes. “No, but I probably should.”

((needs stuff))

“Will you be alright sleeping alone?” Grillby asked. Abruptly his flames tinted blue. “It’s not, ah…I’m not trying to get in bed with you, but it’s just…”

“I understand,” you said, sparing him from any more embarrassment. “After he left me…hell, even when we were still ‘together’ but he was…away…I used to sleep on the couch. Listening to Larkin doing her thing…you know, munching on her kibble or her hay, playing with her toys, chatting to herself…It helped a little. Sounds of normalcy, of life helped me relax and sleep. Also helped when I woke up from a bad dream or whatever, just to know everything was okay. You’ve…probably had those nights, too, yeah?”

He gave you a sad smile. “Yes. There have been many times I needed to know that the people I cared about were safe or that I wasn’t alone before I could rest. I thought it might help you now…to know that you aren’t alone, I mean.”

“I…I don’t know. I mean, it would help, but I can’t think of any arrangement that wouldn’t be awkward. Sleeping in my bed together might be weird, but I’d feel really bad sleeping on the couch and making you sleep on the floor.”

“And I certainly wouldn’t let you sleep on the floor,” he said. “I won’t force you to share your bed, but I promise I would not touch you if you did,” he added softly.

“Oh, that…that isn’t the problem. I mean, I-I wouldn’t bed down with a stranger, but I’ve, uh, I’ve never minded sleeping with friends in a cuddle-pile, you know? I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t know if you minded that, or if Monsters…i-if it would be…” You focused on your hands, picking nervously at your nails. “If you minded being that close to a human,” you finished reluctantly.

His hand covered yours. “I don’t mind. You are my friend. I feel as safe with you as you do with me.”

“Then I guess we can share,” you said with a shy smile. You turned to Larkin, who had been snuffling through her hay pile while you talked. At her name, she perked up and came over to the cage bars. “Good night, Larky. Sweet dreams,” you cooed, giving her a nose boop. She narrowed her eyes at you, irritated with you for distracting her with such foolishness, before waddling back to her hay. You smiled to yourself as you turned off the lights, briefly confused that it wasn’t as dark as it should be until remembering Grillby was literal fire. Or magical fire. You weren’t completely sure which way it went, not that it really mattered.

He followed you to the bedroom where you both stood looking at your unmade bed. “Sorry it’s a mess. I didn’t think I’d have anyone I’d need to straighten it up for,” you said, embarrassed.

“It’s not a problem,” Grillby answered, touching your back lightly. Somehow that touch calmed you more than his words did. “Which side do you prefer?”

“Closer to the door, if that’s okay. Oh, um, are you okay sleeping in your clothes? I have some oversized shirts and sweatpants if you wanted to change.”

“A different shirt would be nice, thank you.”

“Yeah, just a sec.” You grabbed a shirt from your pajama drawer, not looking to see which one it was. When you turned back, you found him regarding your large, somewhat squashed hamster plush. “I, uh, I like to cuddle things when I sleep,” you said, embarrassment mounting further.

“That’s quite alright, spark,” he said gently as he took the shirt. You quickly stepped out so he could change, still blushing. You were starting to feel nervous about this. What would he think of all your dumb quirks? Did he think you were childish for still sleeping with a plush? You had already decided to forgo listening to music the way you normally did, afraid of annoying him. Your close friends all happily accepted your idiosyncrasies as a part of who you were, but what if he didn’t? You didn’t think you were that close…even though you had called him for help…why had you done that, anyway? It had felt like the right thing to do in the moment, almost instinctive. But now that you thought about it, it seemed odd. And he kept calling you ‘spark.’ That was new…

“‘Steam Powered Giraffe?’” you heard him ask. You peeked around the door to find he was changed and now looking down at the logo on the shirt.

“They’re a band. You might actually like their music. It’s a little bit of everything, some jazz, some folk, some light rock,” you said, trying not to stare. You’d only ever seen him in his bar-tending attire, crisp and clean and admittedly handsome. Now a little more casually dressed, he still managed to look good. The shirt was large even on him, but instead of looking disheveled, he simply looked relaxed. He looked like…your heart gave a painful pang. He looked like he could belong in your life. You shoved the thought away. That wasn’t something to think about right now. Or ever.

“I’ll look into them, then,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Do you need a charger for your phone? I have spare cables for just about any make and wall adapters,” you offered, shaking off your longing.

“Yes, thank you.” He told you what plug his phone had and you grabbed the right cable and adapter from your nightstand’s drawer. “Always so prepared?” he teased.

“When it comes to electronics, yes. I have back-ups for my back-ups. Never know when a cable will decide to stop working.” You sat on your side of the bed, your back to him, and grabbed your hamster plush to cuddle. Why did this feel normal and awkward at the same time? You remembered another of your quirks to warn him about. “Oh, um, another thing about me. I don’t snore, but sometimes I…I hum in my sleep.”

“You hum?” He sounded genuinely curious.

“Yeah, I always have. Sometimes I can hear myself doing it, though I can’t always stop it. I think…I think it’s because I tend to have vivid dreams and I’m trying to talk in my sleep, but I never quite get there. It’s that or I’m having a nightmare and I’m trying to wake myself up. But I’m sorry in advance.”

“Please don’t worry so much. It’s alright.” You felt the bed shift and then his hand on your back again. “Let’s get some rest, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him. His expression was soft and kind, completely understanding of your nervousness. You calmed a little at it. He hadn’t judged you so far and it didn’t seem like that was going to change.

He turned to take off his glasses, and you took it as your cue to do the same. You laid down facing the wall, feeling the bed shift as he got comfortable as well. His body gave off enough heat that you didn’t feel the need to pull up your blankets, though you did tuck your feet under them, knowing if any part of you was going to get cold, it would be your toes. You tried to relax, but your mind felt like it was going a million miles a second. Did he need the blankets? Could fire elementals get cold? Would he be upset if you cuddled against him? You wouldn’t do it on purpose, but you knew you tended to gravitate towards warm things in your sleep. Did he sleep on his side like you, or his back? Was this awkward for him?

“I can feel you thinking,” he said quietly, making you go rigid.

“S-sorry!” you squeaked.

He chuckled softly, and you felt the bed shift and then a hand between your shoulder blades. “You’re fine, spark. Sleep,” he murmured, fingers rubbing slow, lazy circles. You had relaxed at his touch alone, and the continued ministrations combined with the warmth and soft crackle of his flames soon had you drifting off.

Almost immediately you were plunged into a nightmare. Of course it didn’t start as such; they never did.

((needs stuff))

Your eyes were open – you could see your ceiling – but the dream continued, now projected onto the cracked, off-white paint. You could hear your hums and whines, but you couldn’t wake up. Your body was frozen, and despite you making noise it felt like you couldn’t breathe. You tried to relax, knowing if you just could do that you’d be able to breath, but your chest only continued to tighten, making your terror worsen, making your chest tighten further, and the vicious cycle began.

“Shh-shh, you’re alright, you’re safe,” a sleepy voice startled you into taking a gasping breath. You jolted into a half-sitting position, leaning on your elbows as you panted. Warm arms encircled you, pulling you back down. You mewled in fright and struggled to free yourself, the nightmare too fresh in your mind. “Easy, easy… No one’s going to hurt you, everything’s okay,” the voice continued, the arms getting tighter around you. Reality finally set in. Grillby. It was just Grillby. You were awake and it was just Grillby. “That’s right, it’s just me. I have you,” he said gently. You hadn’t realized you’d said anything out loud. You turned and threw your arms around him, burying your face into his chest as your tears came. “Oh! Oh, spark…It’s okay. Everything’s okay,” he cooed. He eased the two of you back down, ending up on his back with you tucked firmly against his side, his arm under your neck and around your back. Your head rested on his shoulder, one arm curled to your chest while the other rested on his, hand clutching his shirt.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimpered, only for him to shush you.

“Shh, it’s alright. This is why I wanted to stay with you.” His other hand found its way to your head and began slowly petting it. You cuddled closer against him. “That’s it, get comfy. Warm enough? Good. Do you want to talk about it? Or are you okay to go back to sleep?”

“I-I’m scared the nightmare will come back,” you whispered.

“Don’t be. It can’t hurt you. And if it does come back, I’m here to chase it away again.” He shifted a little and you felt something touch your forehead briefly. Did he just…kiss you? He was talking again before you could fully process what had happened, the soft rumble of his voice in his chest against your ear lulling you back towards sleep. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Just relax and rest. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

((needs stuff))

Grillby sat up, pausing to look at you. Angel above, you were cute, curled around your much-loved plush with your hair half-covering your face. He couldn’t resist brushing it back to reveal your calm expression. You looked so at peace. He wished you looked like that when you were awake. Even at your happiest, there was always a tension in you, like you were expecting the world to collapse around you at any second. Though, that did make sense as he thought about it; That was essentially what had happened to you when your previous relationship had ended.

((needs stuff))

He needed to clear his thoughts. He liked you, that much he was certain of. When it had happened, he wasn’t entirely sure, but at some point his SOUL had decided that you belonged with them. It pulsed happily every time he saw you enter his pub, sending unconscious flicks of yellow through his flames. The sheer contentedness it felt from simply having you where he could keep a careful eye on you settled him, and it was hard to keep his flames from dimming with his SOUL’s disappointment when you left. His SOUL wanted you near all the time, not out of some strange possessive streak or the belief you needed protecting, but purely because it liked seeing you relaxed and happy. He liked that, too, though it had taken him longer to realize that it wasn’t just from pride at having an establishment where everyone felt safe to unwind. The more time he spent around you, the more he wanted to do…well, more. He wanted to hold your hand, pet your hair, murmur gentle things into your ear.

Last night had been nice. Not the parts where you had been terrified, Angel above, no. He never wanted to hear you cry like that, see the absolute panic in your eyes, feel your body shaking so hard, ever again. But after, having you relaxing against him on the couch, comforting you after your nightmare, cuddling you as you fell back asleep…He’d wanted to do those things for a long time. He loved you.

The trouble was he couldn’t tell if you felt the same. Oh, he knew you felt calmer in his presence, but that didn’t tell him or his SOUL much. You didn’t flirt, or at least not as far as he could tell. The few times you’d mentioned you wanted to reenter the dating scene but were still too nervous to seemed more like a confession than an insinuation. But there were times he’d catch you absently watching him with a soft, distant look in your eyes, like there was something you wanted but wouldn’t ask for. The only hint he had that you might be interested in something more was that when the place was empty and quiet enough for your ever-present defenses to lower, you would ask him about himself. Nothing prying or uncomfortable, but clearly things you had been mulling over for a while. The one that stood out to him the most was when you had asked if you could touch his hand. It was the first truly personal thing you’d ever asked of him, and the way you had phrased the request had stuck with him. You hadn’t asked if he would be too hot or would burn you. You had asked what it would feel like, and when he had offered you his hand, you hadn’t hesitated. When he had stoked himself hotter to show you that he wouldn’t burn you or anything he didn’t want to, you hadn’t recoiled in fright. You’d been fascinated to learn how much intent affected magic, and amazed by his control, though it was really nothing impressive to him.

(Something about that nudged at the shadow of a memory in his mind, but it flitted away before he could grasp it.)

((needs stuff))

Consciousness eased its way into your mind. Stretching a leg, you were surprised to feel the edge of the bed with your foot. Why were you so close to the edge? You rolled over and sighed into the pillows. The tinge of wood-smoke caught your attention. Why would you smell…Last night came back to you in bits and pieces, but primarily the image of a fire elemental sitting on the edge of your bed, smiling softly at you, and later that same elemental cuddling you after your nightmare/sleep paralysis episode. So where was he now? Had he just…left…at some point? Though he wasn’t under any obligation to stay with you until you woke up, the thought that he left without a word…hurt more than you thought it would.

“Grillby?” you called softly, feeling a little silly about doing so.

“Out here, spark.” The relief you felt when you heard him respond turned your tense muscles into jelly for a moment. You grabbed your glasses and stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen to find him sitting at your table, hands wrapped around a steaming mug. He looked at you with a smile. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he teased, affection in his golden eyes. Hold up, his eyes?

“Y-your…You aren’t wearing your glasses,” you said, confused.

He straightened and touched his face as though confused, and then a little flick of blue went through his flames as he laughed awkwardly. “Ah, I…I don’t use them to correct my sight. You know how my glasses reflect my flames? I wear them as I don’t…generally like people being able to see my eyes.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry!” you said, quickly looking at the floor.

Grillby just chuckled again. “It’s alright. I don’t mind you seeing them. You’re my friend.”

Nervously, almost not quite believing him, you looked back up into his face again. His flames brightened when you did, tingeing yellow with happiness. This felt like it was something more than just a friendship. It felt…bigger. You chewed on your lip before deciding you had to say something. “Grillby…not only did you come when I called, you stayed with me all night, even through my dumb nightmare…and you kept – keep – calling me ‘spark’…Something…changed last night, didn’t it?”

He stiffened, his flames dimming and curling closer to his form. It seemed like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. After a moment he sighed, flames fluffing out again, and sagged into his chair. “Yes. And I’m afraid it’s my fault.” He motioned to the other chair. “Sit, and I’ll explain.”

You did so, nervously playing with a loose thread on your sleeve. He took a breath, as though about to say something, but then sighed again and dropped his gaze to the table. “Did I do something wrong?” you asked, breaking the tense silence.

Immediately his head shot up. “Oh, no, no! Not at all, spark. I just…I haven’t been completely honest with you, and I feel bad for that, though I don’t know if I would change anything if I could do it over. You see…” He paused and leaned back in his chair, clearly thinking. “How do you feel around me?”

“Um…good? I’m comfortable? I mean, you’re my friend, so…” You drifted off, a little confused.

“But it’s not just that, is it?” he asked, looking at you intently. “You’ve always felt at ease with me, trusted me. Think of when we first met. I’m a fire Monster, and you weren’t afraid of me or my touch.” “I wasn’t afraid of anyone there that night,” you countered, though he did have a point. A human should be afraid of a walking fireball purely on principle, but you hadn’t even considered that he might burn you until much later, and even then you had dismissed the concern easily.

“You told me everything you had been through, even though we had just met,” he continued seriously, hinting at…something…

“Well, aren’t people supposed to tell bartenders their issues?” you tried to joke, but it felt hollow. You sighed. “No, I-I’m sorry. You’re…you’re right. I feel so…at peace with you, like nothing bad could possibly happen if you’re around. I don’t want to keep anything from you. It’s almost like I can’t, that it would be wrong to not let you see…all of me. You’d see through any act I tried to put on anyways, but that’s not a bad thing because it’s you. No matter what, I’m…I’m safe when I’m with you.”

“Yes,” he said softly. “You and I…What do you know about SOULs?”

“Not much. I, um, I did try going to the library to learn more, but a-a lot of it went right over my head. The only book I really understood was one for Monster kids…” you admitted, a little embarrassed.

He nodded, more to himself. “I can teach you later. It’s not necessary to know everything to understand this.” He sighed, looking down at his hands. “You and I are SOULkin. Humans would refer to it as ‘kindred spirits.’ Our SOULs…compliment? No…they resonate with each other. We naturally gravitate towards one another because our SOULs know the other will understand and support us. It’s instinctive, almost ingrained, in us to seek out the other, especially in times of stress.” He paused. You thought about how often you went to the pub, how just sitting at the bar while he worked was enough to settle whatever nerves had been bothering you, how quickly you had calmed in his presence during your first visit, how you had called him when at your worst.

“I did not tell you this, however, and maybe I should have,” he continued. “At first, it was simply because I didn’t think it was terribly important for you to know. People, Human and Monster, can have multiple SOULkin. It’s a relatively common bond, though that doesn’t make it any less special. But as time went on, I began to feel differently toward you. You are so naturally kind and patient and giving. You care so much and so easily for those around you. You feel so deeply, and you aren’t afraid of those feelings. You may try to hide your pain, fear, and grief from others, but you don’t hide yourself from them. You accept them and feel them as deeply as any joy. I admire you for that.”

“Grillby,” you started, embarrassed and a bit alarmed by the sudden praise, but he held up a hand.

“It took me some time to realize that I…I liked you. I had fallen in love with you. After that, I didn’t tell you about us being SOULkin because I was afraid you’d feel obligated to love me back. After what you’d been through, I didn’t want you to feel pressured into a new relationship, especially if you weren’t ready for one. Even when it seemed like you might have feelings for me, I didn’t say anything because I was worried about accidentally pushing you.” He took a shuddering breath, his composure slipping. “When you called me last night…When I saw you…There was so much hurt in you that I hadn’t known was there, that I hadn’t seen…I was so afraid…I-I thought you were going to fall down.”

“‘Fall down’?” you repeated.

He looked at you. You didn’t know if fire elementals could cry, but it looked like he was going to. “Die. When a Monster falls down, they die.” Your heart skipped a beat. Even if you hadn’t been thinking of ending it all, the ‘coping’ methods you had considered could just as easily have led to that by mistake. “I was so afraid I was going to lose you, such a wonderful friend and an amazing person…to never get to tell you how I felt…I wanted to take the hurt and fear from you, to give you strength and hope, to show you just how loved you are…and so my SOUL attempted to form a SOULbond with yours.”

“A-a…a what?” Anxiety was beginning to form a knot in your stomach.

“It’s…a deeper connection than the passive SOULkin bond. It’s a Bond that is actively formed between SOULs that care deeply for one another. My SOUL wanted to form it with yours because it wanted to help you, to help your SOUL, but to try it while you were so distressed…” He trailed off.

“Is that…a bad thing?” You felt a little overwhelmed by what he was saying.

“The Bond itself is not, but doing it so suddenly and without you knowing or understanding it is. Even though there was no malicious intent behind the action, a Bond isn’t something that should be formed spur-of-the-moment. But my SOUL wanted to…I wanted to…I was so…” He stared at his hands as he struggled to find the right words. “Maybe I should have just told you about being SOULkin from the start, or at least told you how I felt before now. Maybe I would have seen just how much you were holding inside, or maybe just being with you could somehow have kept everything from getting so bad…Maybe what happened last night wouldn’t have happened. But I am sorry for keeping everything from you, even if I was doing so with the best of intentions.”

“O-oh…wow…that’s…a-a lot to process…” you said, leaning back in your own chair.

“I understand. Please take your time. Would…would you like me to leave so you can think in peace?” He looked hurt by his own offer, but you didn’t doubt he would go if you told him to.

“No, please don’t,” you quickly said, leaning forward and reaching out to him, though you stopped part way, not entirely certain if he’d want you to touch him after all those revelations. Your hand rested on the table between you. It looked lonely to you, but you left it there, lost as to what you should be doing. “Did…my SOUL react to the Bond?”

“It very nearly accepted it. I don’t know if it was going to because it wanted to or if in the moment it felt it needed to, but I pulled back before you did something without meaning to.” That thought lingered for a moment before he added, “However, if did you want to, I would very much like to be your Bonded.”

“What does that mean, though? I don’t know i-if I understand…”

“It’s…” He looked at the ceiling as though the answer would be there. “I guess a human might liken it to dating or having a very deep friendship, but more…solid. It comes with a promise of certainty, that both will always be connected. It’s for the very closest of friends or those in love, and well…I love you.”

You struggled to absorb that. It seemed too unreal that someone like him – self-assured, calm, and put-together – could feel that way for someone like you – anxious, flighty, and a spazz. “So…I don’t even know how to phrase this…Are the feelings the SOULkin-resonance-thing creates real? Or are we…I guess just…compelled to care for each other because of them?”

“I believe them to be real,” he said gently, earnestly, leaning forward to finally put his hand on yours. “I do not feel like I was forced to come to you when you called me, or forced to stay with you after to ensure you had recovered. You needed someone to be there, and I wanted to be that person. You may have called me simply because your SOUL recognized I was someone safe to be with when you were vulnerable, but I hope you know that I am even without its influence.”

You turned that thought over in your mind. It was hard untangling your own emotions, but you couldn’t imagine Grillby just ignoring someone’s call for help. He may put on an aloof air sometimes behind the counter, but you knew just how attentive he was to all of his patrons. He would do anything to ensure their comfort, and not just because they were paying customers. He’d been kind to you right from the start, a strange human having a meltdown that he could have just kicked out, but instead did whatever he could to help you calm down and inviting you to share your problems, going so far as to let you stay after the place had closed so you could tell them in private, even giving you his phone number and offering you a safe place to stay. Your hurt and fear hadn’t been a burden, but something to be cared for.

Grillby cared, and he was asking you to be a bigger part of his life because he cared.

“What changes between us if I accept the Bond?” you asked.

“Nothing much, or not to a Monster, at least. It will probably be a little more to a human. We would be able to better perceive and understand the other’s emotions when near to each other, making it easier to support the other in times of need, which was why my SOUL attempted it in the first place. At a distance, we would be able to push thoughts or feelings back and forth. Nothing so grand as telepathy, but simple things like ‘happy,’ ‘sad,’ ‘love.’ It will naturally encourage our relationship to deepen along with our understanding of the other, and it will provide the security of knowing that someone will always be in your corner.”

You hesitated to ask, worried about offending him, but this felt like a huge deal and something you needed to know as much about as possible. “Can it be…ended?”

If he was hurt by the question, he didn’t show it. “Yes, though it is rare for that to happen.”

“Okay…I-I don’t know if this is off-topic, but what are ‘soulmates,’ then? O-or is that an entirely human construct?”

His flames tinted slightly blue. “That usually happens after SOULbonded become…deeply intimate.”

“Oh…Oh!” You clapped your hand over your mouth before you could say anything else humiliating.

He laughed, waving off your embarrassment. “It’s alright. Most Bonded end up as Mates, but it will not pressure us to become that if you don’t want it. Such feelings tend to bloom when you are connected to someone so deeply, but it can remain platonic if you wish. Being Mates doesn’t have to be physical either, though it frequently goes in that direction. It happens when Monsters…people trust each other enough to allow the other to see and touch their SOUL, which you can likely imagine is as intimate as sex, if not more so.”

You hesitated, too nervous to look at him. “I-is…is that something what you want? To be Mates?”

“Someday, and, admittedly, in the physical sense as well as the SOUL sense,” he said, soft but certain. “But that isn’t something that has to be decided right away. There’s no time limit, and I would not push you one way or the other. I simply want to be with you, to be a bigger part of each other’s life.” You believed him, that he would allow you to make that choice when the time came, and it didn’t seem like he wanted to rush to it either. Which was good, because while you were potentially interested in things turning physical, you would certainly need time to get used to being in a relationship again, much less adjust to the whole SOULbonded-thing. You took a breath. “So how do I accept the Bond?”

His hand tightened on yours slightly, his flames becoming brighter. “Please, don’t force yourself to. You don’t need to do this on my account.” He sounded both anxious and eager. How long had you both been pining for each other without saying anything?

“I know, but…I love you as well. I-I was scared to admit it to myself, especially after…everything. I was afraid I was grabbing onto the first person who genuinely seemed to care about me. I don’t become infatuated easily, so I was worried by how quickly I felt myself wanting to be closer to you, but maybe being SOULkin was what was helping that along. I-I don’t know…I just knew that being around you felt good…natural. You were someone I could banter with but also be real with. I didn’t feel like I had to try to impress you or hide how weird I could be, and letting you see when I was hurting didn’t feel like I was being weak or making myself vulnerable. You didn’t try to make me hide my sadness away, or fix it, or hand out platitudes the way a lot of people did. You sympathized without trying to make me feel better, which ironically made me feel way better than anyone else had. You listen to my ramblings not out of politeness, but because you value what I’m thinking.” You laughed, embarrassed, knowing you were currently rambling. “You were even okay when I just wanted to be around without interacting, which is something a lot of my friends don’t quite understand. I also think you’re very kind. You’re funny, and clever, and so patient. You’re so attentive to the world around you, you see things I never would. I admire you, too, and I want to spend more time with you, and not with a counter between us. I love you, I want to be with you, and I want to be your Bonded. So how do I do that?”

He searched your eyes for a moment before you felt something…shift. It felt like something was very lightly touching your chest, just over your heart, though neither of you had moved. “You only need to say ‘yes.’” There was so much hope in his voice. Abruptly you realized that he was just as vulnerable as you had been last night. He had let his guard down and was inviting you in, asking you to share his life because he wanted you to be a part of it. He wanted you, flaws and quirks and all, because he loved you.

“Then…yes.” The pressure on your chest increased, and you felt something in you seem to pull towards it. You glanced down, expecting to see something, but nothing was there. “Grillby?” you whispered, suddenly nervous.

“It’s alright, sweet spark. Don’t be afraid,” he said gently.

You felt more defenseless than you had been last night, and despite his words, you were afraid. What if he Bonded with you and then learned something about you he didn’t like? What if you were about to trap him with you, about to make all of your problems his? You still had so many things you needed to work out, so much emotional and mental baggage, and here you were about to dive right back into uncertainty, into a relationship that was clearly bigger than you understood. It was too much too soon. You clutched your chest over where the pressure was and curled in on yourself. “W-wait, I’m sorry! I can’t!” you gasped.

Immediately the pressure was gone and Grillby was kneeling beside you. “Relax, you’re alright. No one’s making you do this. It’s okay. I promise it’s okay,” he assured you. One hand rested on your knee and the other was on your back, warm and comforting without making you feel trapped.

“I-I thought I could…but I…I don’t think…I’m not ready. I’m sorry. God, I’m so, so sorry,” you whispered, mortified by your reaction. Grillby was so good to you, so sweet and caring…How could you reject him?

“Look at me, spark, please. You aren’t in trouble,” he soothed, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. You didn’t want him to see the tears that were welling up in your eyes, but you obeyed. “It’s okay if you aren’t ready –”

“No, it isn’t!” you said, interrupting him. “I said I would be your Bonded, and now I’m saying I won’t! I’m sorry for changing my mind, I’m not trying to be wishy-washy, I just –”

“Did you change your mind?” he asked, his turn to interrupt you. “You said you weren’t ready, not that you didn’t want to be my Bonded. That’s not changing your mind; that’s needing time. I understand that. We can still spend that time together, getting to know each other better, until you are ready.”

“Grillby,” you whimpered weakly. Your ex had always told you that you were being indecisive when you asked for time to think before making big choices, but Grillby…didn’t think that? You slid out of your chair to join him on the floor, wrapping your arms around him as you pressed your head into his shoulder. He held you close, resting his cheek against your temple. “I’m sorry. I-I…I was afraid you’d hate being with me. There’s so much I’m still dealing with in my head, so much I’m still sorting through and trying to get over. I didn’t want to burden you.”

“Shh, don’t apologize. There’s nothing you have to be sorry for,” he murmured, rocking you. “I don’t see you as a burden. I want to be there to help and support you.”

You nodded into his shoulder, sniffling. “I know…I just…I want to have more of myself sorted before doing anything so big and real…C-can…I still want…I-I don’t know if it’s okay to in Monster culture, but…Can we still try dating, e-even if I’m not ready to become your SOULbonded?”

“Oh, sweet spark, you misunderstand!” he laughed, sounding relieved. “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been clearer. Dating and Bonding aren’t mutually exclusive for Monsters. We can take our time and get to know each other better first. It’s probably better that way, too. I didn’t mean to imply that we had to Bond just to go out.” He eased you back so he could look into your face, absolutely beaming. “I would love to date you.” He lifted a hand, letting you see it before touching your cheek, tenderly wiping away your tears. “May I kiss you?” You gave him a watery smile and nodded. He leaned down, the hand still behind you pulling you closer, and pressed his lips to yours. Much like his hands, his lips had the same soft-but-solid-heat feeling but with a little more give. There was no force behind it, no demand for more than that gentle kiss. He let you be the one to decide how long to hold it for, and when you did break it, he rested his forehead to yours. “I am here for you, sweet spark. For everything.”

“Thank you,” you breathed, giving him another soft kiss. “I love you.”

The fire elemental cradled you to his chest, warmth engulfing you like a soft blanket. “I love you, too.”

#wip #my writing #undertale #unfinished #grillby x reader

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